Sorry for a bit of a wait, but here it is. Read to your heart's contentment.
I own nothing to do with the Overlord games, I only made Briar and the brays and if Code Masters or Triumph Studios want to use them, they can.
Legacy of the Overlord
Chapter Six: Promises to the Empire
As the dragon's breath washed over her and her icy prison Briar decided she was going to have to talk to Gnarl about that; a ten tonne reptile with the brain of a walnut casually walking about did not seem very efficient to the running of the Netherworld Tower. The melting ice returned to its liquid form and it ran in rivulets down the thinning ice surrounding her. Briar felt sensation returning to her limbs and the stinging of the arrow still embedded in the flesh of her thigh. With the ice no longer keeping her upright Briar fell to the ground; the center of the throne room in the dip which showed the reach of the great Netherworld Gate. The minions circled around with the brays, checking to see if their shepherd was okay. Ramrod in his red blanket was standing next to Gnarl and Mortis was a little way off from them, his scythe catching reflections of the flames. "Huumm, you've grown a bit since you left."
"You're still the same." she said with a smile. It was good to be back. "Will Quaver be okay?" Briar asked seeing the black minion nursing his head while nearby minions laughed at and taunted him. "I quite enjoy his dirty jokes."
"Oh, I'm sure he'll be fine. He's been through worse treatment then some taunting." Knowing that was all the reassurance she would get concerning poor Quaver, Briar attempted to stand. Ramrod was the first to come to her aid followed by Gnarl, Mortis and rest of the gathered minions and brays.
"Come to your Private Quarters, Master; there I can heal that wound." Mortis droned. Briar struggled to her feet, finding she was now unable to put any weight at all onto her injured leg, the adrenaline of running from the Empire had worn off and there was no wendigo called Ox... or was it Oxen? Either way, there was no wendigo to carry her this time. Several brays came to help steady her was she balanced on her good leg and Gnarl ordered some of the minions to do the same.
"What about the horde that helped me escape? How many fatalities?" Briar asked as the minions helped her up the stairs behind the throne, the most direct path to the Private Quarters.
"Some minions were sent floating out to sea on the ice and others fell into the frigid bay, your brays had three fatalities, but fared better then the minions when it came to swimming ashore. Mortis is tending to those with wounds and those suffering from the cold in the Minion Burrows."
"Good. Until your population starts to grow we must try to limit minion losses."
"Mortis will never let me hear the end of this." Gnarl thought, prodding a younger minion to move faster as Briar continued to limp up the steps. "But she is already thinking about horde numbers and doesn't hold the few meeklings that die distract her from what's important... Dark Lady Briar? Yes, that has an evil ring to it." Gnarl grinned, showing all his teeth to the dim light of the Private Quarters.
"What about the wendigo, Ox?" Briar asked once they entered the Private Quarters proper; it was still as rundown and decrepit as when she had left. All her dogs, Grimjaw, Dark Lace, Bubbles, Fang, Jagger and Rip Tooth, were on her collapsed bed waiting for her. Catching sight of her, six tails began earnestly wagging.
"Well Dark Mistress, you see... while we were able to locate you fairly quickly in that frozen bay because of your magical energy, your hairy friend is not magical and is still lost. Most likely he's been washed ashore somewhere close by though." Gnarl sat on his small pile of rubble while Briar sat on the edge of her crumbling bed so Mortis could look at the arrow.
"Send some minions to try and find him, a wendigo will come in handy around here."
"My thoughts exactly Master, I have already sent several search groups out." Gnarl explained, watching Briar wince when Mortis touched the arrow shaft.
"The removal will have to wait until later." Mortis said in his bored voice, like he did this everyday; Briar had to remember that given the Brown minion's disregard for this little something called 'safety' he probably did do something like this everyday (on the lucky ones that survived the accidents or the fights anyway). The healer placed his scythe against one of the crumbling statues and reached into his dark robes, pulling out yet another bottle of some strange concoctions. Briar wondered if he had a whole potion set stuffed in his black robe somewhere. "Gnarl, if you would take the minions back to the throne room so the Mistress may have a little privacy."
"Ooooohhhhhh!" came a collective sound of disappointment from the minions as Gnarl began to herd them back down the stairs; Gloob, Torn, Pummel, Rasp and Gash included. Briar was already undressing and had placed her red cloak beside her on her stone bed; Grim took his chance to lie on it as his master continued disrobing.
Mortis had been sharpening a small knife he was going to use to cut Briar out of her Nordbergian trousers, the arrow would make it impossible for her to take them off as she normally would. He stopped when he saw Briar was wearing a finely made unicorn cloak underneath the red one she had just taken off. The same unicorn cloak that she had been making; it was now complete, finely trimmed and expertly made... it must have taken Briar some time to complete it.
There was now only one more ingredient needed to transform the cloak into one of the most powerful magical items the world had ever known.
"That is a most fine cloak, Mistress. How did acquire it?" the Blue leader asked dully, his voice holding no revelations that he had seen the skins and the blood stained needle and knife back when the minions had rescued her. He began to cut at her trousers, pretending the conversation was not as interesting to him as it really was.
"I made it." Briar said simply, putting the pure white cloak down on the other side of her so she could take off her belt, sparing Mortis from simply cutting through the tough leather. "But I haven't finished it yet."
"You haven't finished?" Mortis asked pulling the cut material of Briar's trousers away from her legs leaving the young shepherdess in only her thick woolen shirt. Mortis cast an eye over the white cloak as he threw the shredded trousers to the floor. It was a fairly large cloak (Briar could have used it as a blanket, most of its bulk had been hidden by her coat when she fled the Empire forces), Briar always preferred larger cloaks because it was easier to form a hood out of them. She had sewn each unicorn pelt together seamlessly, the transition between one pelt to the next was unnoticeable unless you really looked hard past the pure white fur and looked for the tiny stitches of goat sinew keeping the cloak together, Briar had made a series of clasps from leftover unicorn horn to help keep the cloak on her shoulders. It was beautiful, the fur shimmered as if it was still attached to the living unicorn in the torch light illuminating the Private Quarters main central chamber (used as the main bedroom and, Gnarl had told her, as a place to horde the Netherworld's plundered gold). It was the sort of clothing article a Noble would have paid a lot of gold for; it certainly was not the sort of thing you expected to belong to shepherd girl.
But it could be so much more, if only Briar realized.
"But it is all sewn and tidied, clasps as well. What else could you do to it?" Mortis was checking the slight bruising that was appearing around the arrow head and then pulled the stopper from the bottle of potion.
"I know... but I just can't stop thinking that I've forgotten something."
"Like soaking it in your arcane powers, Dark Mistress?" Mortis replied in his head, but his mouth said, in its usual dull, bored drone. "Do not worry, Dark Mistress. I'm sure you will figure it out in due time." The conversation with the cloak had ended and Mortis began applying the thick substance from the bottle onto the bruising flesh the arrow was imbedded in. Briar could feel the potion numbing the sting and letting the young flesh and pale skin relax, having tensed from the intrusion. After putting a substantial amount of the potion onto her leg the Blue leader handed her the rest of the glass bottle, about one fifth of the potion remained. "Drink the rest Mistress, it will help you sleep. I will remove the arrow later tonight." The potion smelled strangely of peas but Briar was glad to note that it tasted rather bland, but it had a surprisingly tangy aftertaste. She swallowed what remained of the potion and gave the bottle back to its owner.
"See what you can do for Quaver, will you?"
"Of course Mistress, your words are my orders." Mortis replied taking his scythe as he made his way to the stairs leading back down to the throne room.
Briar settled down onto the furs and covers of her bed and prepared to sleep as she finally began feeling the effects of her adrenaline wear away with Mortis' potion, she kept her wounded leg out from the covers to avoid causing anymore damage.
------ LoO ------
It was differcult to distinguish day and night in the Netherworld, forty or so kilometers into the world's crust meant the only 'sky' you had was the top of a huge cavern. But Gnarl and the other minions were excellent time keepers and they acted as the Netherworld's clock, running chores and daily maintenance on Netherworld equipment on strict time frames and the set times were now more like instincts and habits to the minions.
They had found Briar frozen in the ice a day after she had made her escape, when she had fallen into the freezing bay with the wendigo, it had taken half a day to excavate her from the frigid ice and then the minions had to wait a couple more days for Syranox, the black dragon, to make his weekly migration back to the Netherworld tower so they could agitate the ten ton reptile into giving Briar's icy prison a fiery blast. Exactly how the black dragon had found his way to the deep, hot depths of the Netherworld Tower was anyone's guess, probably through the 'secret' and 'well hidden' surface entrance.
Briar had been thawed and taken to her Private Quarters late that morning; it was now nine o'clock at night so the Mistress had been sleeping for twelve hours, a combination of Mortis' potion and her own magical body trying to aid the healing process of her thigh. It was now time for Mortis and Gnarl to return to their Master and see how she was doing.
"Why couldn't the others be this easy?" Gnarl asked suddenly as he and Mortis climbed up the black obsidian stairs leading to the Private Quarters.
"What are you mumbling about, Old Brown?" Mortis asked, following behind the Minion Master as he went to get the arrow out of their new Master.
"Briar as our new Overlord."
"Overlady."
"Whatever, you know what I'm talking about." Gnarl growled, he still had to give Mortis those last five slugs from the tower's already pitiful food storage for losing their bet.
"You mean the signs the Netherworld gave that Briar was its chosen Master? The signs you utterly ignored and put down to the Netherworld's instability?" The Blue leader's voice was just as dull and bored as it always was but Gnarl knew that Mortis was just staking claim that he was right and Gnarl was wrong. The old brown could just imagine Mortis dancing around the graveyard altar when it became a certain fact Briar was the Netherworld's chosen ruler.
"Yes, yes, alright! You were right and I still need to give you those slugs!" An exasperated Gnarl said. Behind him, Mortis smiled quietly into the darkness of his hood. "What I'm trying to say is that, if the Netherworld, or even the old Tower Heart, had given anymore indication of their chosen Masters it would have made our work far more easier." At last they reached the top of the black stairs and as Gnarl's glowing stone chased some of the darkness from them, the two minions picked their way through the rubble thanks to the light.
"The Netherworld has a mind all of Its own, It remembers Its powerful maker and her magic. The same magic flows through Briar's veins. It has long been known that females conduct all magics easier than males." Mortis explained, hoping to give the Old Brown some reasonable theory.
They reached the center most chamber, where the beds would be placed and a personal treasury of the Overlord and any chosen Mistresses... Gnarl had wondered about how Briar's 'special' friends would pan out, but had decided to face that hurdle when they reached it. The two leading minions stood beside Briar's stone bed where she still slept, the dog pack looking intently at them as they approached closer to their master. Her face, free from the pain and various other emotion was graced with a peaceful expression. Her large eyes closed and her soft lips parted slightly with her gentle breathing. Although minions generally saw beauty as a blight they, could appreciate the form of feminine beauty and Briar was beautiful, even at her young age, on the doorstep of adulthood. Gnarl could see tell-tale signs of the woman Briar was to grow to become, as her face and features lost some of the softness of childhood and became sharper; more defined. The old brown used a clawed finger to carefully brush a stray strand of jet black hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear. Briar would never know.
Mortis was paying more attention to Briar's injured leg which was still uncovered from the blanket and her cloaks, which she had used as blankets, and the Blue leader gently touched the tender flesh around the intrusive arrowhead. Mortis grinned with satisfaction as he found the skin and muscle had loosened, having tightened around the arrowhead to prevent further injury, the bodies way of trying to remove foreign bodies from itself. In the case of the arrow however, the tightening caused more damage, the barbed arrowhead just burrowing deeper into the flesh. Mortis lent his scythe against the decrepit stone and returned his attention to the arrow shaft. "If you could cover her, Minion Master, we can begin the extraction." Gnarl carefully pulled Briar's red cloak over her face.
"Okay Mortis, carry on." Gnarl watched as the healer began to slowly pull on the arrow shaft; and bit by bit, Mortis eased the projectile from Briar's thigh. A small amount of blood escaped from the angry wound as the metal head was brought closer to the skin. Unfortunately, while the potion acted as a minor numbing agent and sedative, it wasn't enough to keep Briar asleep for the whole of Mortis' operation. She was beginning to stir, her face grimacing as the pain began to wake her up. Sensing their master's discomfort, the dogs whined and got to their paws, jumping down from the stone bed.
Mortis struggled to keep hold of the arrow as Briar began to try and move her leg away from him. "It is time, Gnarl." The Minion Master took hold of Grimjaw's collar and ran back down the stairs, the rest of the dogs following their alpha. Mortis waited for as long as he dared and then gave a hard tug...
------------
Gnarl didn't stop running until he reached the throne room, out of breath and fighting to get some of the Netherworld's hot air back into his lungs he released Grim's collar as he lent against the broken throne to help aid his recovery. The dogs seemed to have realized the Minion Master had brought them away from their shepherdess for their own good, since they decided to sit and lay around the throne instead of going back up the stairs.
"Master Gnarl?" Quaver said as he approached, the black minion's missing eye had been tended by Mortis and the eyelid was now shut over the empty space in his head. "I take it that Master Mortis' operation went well?"
"Well, we'll see right about..." As if on cue, the proof that the Mistress would be fine made itself apparent.
"Argh! Owww! Mortis!" Briar's anger carried her voice across the Netherworld. Arcs of red magical energy striking and bouncing from the floating boulders and rocks circling around the upside-down tower and a blast of hot air came rushing down from the stairway leading to the Private Quarters and blew around the throne room.
Seconds later, a scorched Mortis made his way over to the Old Brown and the Jester waiting near the throne, his robe and scythe smoking heavily and with the offending arrow in his free hand; the feathers at its end glowing and lit like a candle. Mortis cast the arrow into the lava pool behind the decrepit throne before coming to stand beside Gnarl.
"Well, it went better than expected." Gnarl said to Quaver, he then turned his attention back to the still smoking blue leader, whose blackened face was being licked clean thanks to Dark Lace. "Is the Master going to be okay?"
"She'll be fine, give her a chance to heal and she won't even be limping." Mortis replied in his usual drone. "It is most amazing, however." He added "Still half asleep, half blinded by her cloak, and yet she still has a remarkable aim with a fireball... that's the closet one so far." With that, the Blue began to walk back outside to return to his place at the Graveyard in the Minion Barracks.
------ LoO ------
To say Giblet loved his job, would be an understatement. He had been the Chief Forger and Construction Master of the Netherworld Tower for many years now, but forging was definitely his most favorite. Banging away at soft, heated metal with a solid object and forcing it to take the shape you wanted it to take was what every minion was good at, but Giblet could turn it into an art. It was like beating something into submission... creature, human, another minion, it didn't matter (everything was similar in that regard to a minion)... and although he was no longer allowed to follow an Overlord and their horde to kill and pillage, he was starting to understand why Minion Master Gnarl and Blue Leader Mortis liked to remain in the Netherworld.
It was much easier to do your job and serve the Overlord if you weren't dead.
"More! More!" Giblet barked as his assistant Forgers, five normal browns and two rare Hobbe browns, taller and stronger than their run-of-the-mill siblings. It was another perk of the job that Giblet liked, shouting out orders that others obeyed without question as he and one of the Hobbes hammered at some hot sheet metal he was turning into Briar's breastplate. The brown minions were chucking coal, wood, even rat and minion corpses and anything else that would burn to keep Giblet's furnace hot enough so the Forger could work. "Keep going! Giblet need more heat!" They had to keep throwing stuff in, normally the red minions themselves would power the forge and its furnaces, but with them missing, the browns had to make their own fire.
Gnarl had told the Forger to keep the armour simple, since Briar was still a juvenile she was still growing and the armour sets made for her now wouldn't fit when she was fully grown, so by keeping this armour simple it could be melted down and remade as she grew. Minions were masters at recycling.
Giblet had nearly completed Briar's armour, only the breast plate remained to be put onto the dummy the minions were using to see how it would fit their Master. Compared to the past Overlord's, Briar's armour would make use of leather armour and cloth scavenged from Empire camps on the surface and Empire soldier corpses, the metal armour taken from the Empire would either find its way onto the attire of a minion or be melted down in the Forge.
The full length arm guards would begin at Briar's wrists, which would also be covered by light gauntlets to protect her hands, the arm guards stopped at simple shoulder pauldrons. Her legs would be protected with steel shin guards while tough leather would protect her thighs (a must considering she didn't want to go through Mortis' treatment again). Her breast plate would not only protect her chest but would also have chainmail to give her abdomen some much needed protection.
Briar had insisted she did not want a helmet, her hood had been good enough for years now, but Gnarl had asked that she wore something to protect her face. He told her about Overlord's who had lost eyes, gained broken noses and swallowed a few loose teeth from getting hit in the face by thrown projectiles, stones and arrows, even at one time a cannonball; not to mention the blows from melee weapons and sword incidents. Briar had reconsidered after the particular tale of the cannonball and had agreed to wear something. Gnarl and Giblet did agree that the iconic tri-pointed helmet of the past Overlords wouldn't suit her and had instead gone with the idea of an ancient Overlord who was almost forgotten.
An Overlord once called Jack of Blades. He was before Gnarl's time so what his conquests were or what happened to him were nothing now but rumour and speculation. But, like Briar, Jack of Blades had been a fan of cloaks and hoods. Instead of a helmet, he had worn a mask so it was decided that Briar would have a mask as well.
It had been the first thing Giblet had made of her armour, it had started as a simple iron sheet which the Forger had shaped to the rough measurements of Briar's face.
Now, the armour was nearly complete and the minions excitement could almost be tasted. Briar had been chosen by the Netherworld and from the stories that Gloob, Rasp and the others who had found her had told, she had a lot of promise. Yes, there was no doubt in any minion that the new, young Overlady was finally with them. The excitement was palpable, how much pillage would they claim? How many heads would they smash? How much booze would they drink? It was enough to make any minion giddy. Giblet's assistants carried on, they would be rewarded over time when the Lady began her claim of the surface world.
Briar's mask was plain, it just had eye holes and one little decal on the right cheek. A thorny rose with its stem wrapped by a velvet ribbon, a small memorial to her mother and aunt, although Giblet had no idea the little detail held such meaning for his Master. "More! More heat! Nearly done!"
"See, Mistress, I told you Giblet would not be long." The voice of Minion Master Gnarl explained to the fully healed Briar as they walked down the steps from the floating rock platform that brought them here from the main tower. "Giblet is a robust fellow, been around almost as long as I have." They came to stand in front of the dummy holding Briar's armour. "We were hoping to have some time to see how well you can fight in armour, it will be a little different from just a few bandits. But with your furry friend in the situation he's in, time is of the essence."
"We should go at night, we will be harder to see and hopefully we'll just slip into the camp... until the minions have killed most of the guards and we have Ox."
"Yes, we must at least try to save the wendigo, we could use the muscle around here."
"Breast plate is done for Overlady." Giblet said approaching them, behind him a Hobbe brown carried the completed breastplate with chainmail and handed it to Gnarl.
"Good work, Giblet." the old minion said, turning and offering it to Briar. She took hold of the plate armour and ran her hand over the beaten metal. "The minions will help you put it on, you just need to tell them how it feels." Gnarl explained. Some minions had already taken the dummy away and Briar followed behind them.
The armour, while it had been placed on the dummy, looked plain and the minions had been worried that it wouldn't look menacing on Briar's small body. The worry turned out out to be unneeded. Although Briar was small, with her red hood shadowing the metal mask and her cloak and shawl covering some of the protective armour on her upper arms she looked menacing enough. The mask hiding her face made her seem like an emotionless killer with her armour and her sword, the stolen Empire sword she had taken the night she escaped, just added to the effect of fear. Her eyes glowing bright with cold blue light. Considering how temporary this armour was, it was perfect on her; with the left gauntlet holding a glowing gem similar to the one Gnarl had suspended over his head. It was a means for the minions to know where she was and the gem could draw life energy into it, Gnarl had told her he would explain about life force when the opportunity showed itself.
"Why my, Lady!" Gnarl remarked "Giblet and the other Forgers have outdone themselves."
"Now is not the time for that Gnarl, we'll see how well this armour stands up to battle soon." Briar reminded him, beginning to walk back towards the floating rock platform, Gnarl following quickly, leaving the Forge to return to the Tower with his Mistress.
"Remember young Lady, the Netherworld will allow me to talk to you telepathically wherever you are on the surface world." Gnarl reminded her.
"How do we return to the surface?"
"Since we have no idea where there are any Netherworld gates you and the minions will have to use the secret entrance to reach the surface, it will take a bit longer, but it will be night when you reach the camp where the Empire have the wendigo." Gnarl said, Briar nodded to show her understanding. As the floating rock neared the Tower she saw a large gathering of minions awaiting her to lead them to the surface. Gloob, Gash, Rasp, Torn and Pummel, mounted on the dogs and the horde would also be accompanied by a few of the bray shamen; she felt her lips tug into a smile, they looked like fighters, it was enough for the moment.
This would be the first attack she would lead against the Empire, this would be the first of many she would lead to get her revenge upon their entire civilization.
First would be Nordberg. She would deal with Mellow Hills in due time.
------ LoO ------
It felt like it was colder outside, but Briar put that down to being in the Netherworld for a while and getting too use to the volcanic heat of the Tower. Like Gnarl had expected she and the twenty strong minion horde with eight bray shamen were now lying low in the tree line of a small forest fifty meters from the camp holding Ox. She could see the large cage the soldiers had somehow got the huge wendigo into, and he was looking rather sorry for himself, but if one of the Empire soldiers got too close to his cage he would try to get his large hands through the bars to grab hold of the soldiers. Briar felt her lips tug again, at least Ox hadn't given up totally.
Her five minions and her six dogs were hid close to her while the other minions had scattered themselves along the edge of the forest awaiting her order to advance on the camp. Along the way they had found wolves and now most of the minions were on wolf mounts, the eight brays were also nearby, Ramrod was with his Shepherd of course.
They were waiting for the right time, if the Empire acted the same as they had in Mellow Hills than most of the camps soldiers would be sleeping soon, leaving the camp to be guarded by a few of their number. They would have horns to wake the others if something happened, but Briar had an idea. The tingling in her eyes showed her eagerness, but she needed to wait, now was not the time.
"Can you hear me Mistress?" Gnarl's voice said over their bond.
"Yes Gnarl, I can hear, no need to shout."
"Sorry, Mistress. This is the camp, and I must say I like your plan." the old minion said happily "By the time they realise they're being attacked, most of them will be dead! Ha Ha!"
It was late when finally saw a majority of the soldiers retreat to tents and temporarily erected buildings, tiny groups of guards were stationed at certain entrances and exists into the camp and single guards patrolled around the camp. Thinking that their Master would be ordering the advance soon many of the minions began to draw their weapons but were disappointed when their young Lady gave the signal for wait; the soldiers had only just entered their tents and would still be awake. Briar wanted them fast asleep, many would not wake to see the next dawn, she wanted to leave the Empire a clear message. A camp full of dead soldiers still in their beds would leave a very good one.
Two hours later, the only light in the pitch darkness of night was the small fires around the Empire camp and the occasional eyeshine from the minions, their mounts and their Master from the forest. Some of the stationed guards had fallen asleep, thinking tonight was going to be just like the last, and some of the patrolling guards had taken to sitting at the fires to warm themselves with the sleeping stationed guards. Briar's glowing eyes intensified behind her mask and at last, she was ready.
"Gloob, Pummel, Torn." The three minions approached their Lady and waited for her instruction. "Each of you will take some minions and a bray for each of your groups and you will enter the tents and kill the guards. Be quiet, make sure they don't ever wake up." Even in the darkness, the amber glow from their own eyes glinted off their teeth as they grinned in excitement.
"Of course Mistress." Pummel said
"We live to bash." With that the three minions, Gloob on Grimjaw, Pummel on Dark Lace and Torn on Jagger, left their master to gather some of the horde to perform their Mistress' will. Gash and Rasp remained with her along with Ramrod, the dog and wolf mounts snarling and their fur standing on end, the minions shaking from excitement, this was what they had been waiting for since the fall of the old Overlord, their young Lady's father. They watched as Briar gave Pummel and the other two a chance to get the minions and brays they needed before she raised her hand and then threw it forward.
The horde broke cover, Briar leading the way as she watched for any sign that the guards had spotted them. Their eyes were glowing, it wasn't like they were completely hidden by the night's darkness.
The horde reached the outer tents of the camp and as Briar and the main horde continued on to reach the wendigo cage, Gloob, Torn and Pummel led their small groups of three or four minions and single brays into the nearby tents. Silence emerged with them after a few moments of silent actions within, along with bloody weapons.
The minions worked efficiently, killing guards quickly and without a sound, Briar only wanted to get to the wendigo first. Two guards were left to guard the massive cage that contained Ox. She was where she needed to be... now this Empire camp was going to be the warmest place in Nordberg.
"Go on, young Mistress! Show them your power!"
The young Overlord felt heat running in the veins of her right arm under the armour, hot mana collect in her hand without burning her or melting her simple plate gauntlets; the fireball roared and spat in her palm before she aimed it at the largest tent where most of the soldiers and the general in charge of this camp were probably sleeping, and it caught fire easily, a huge hole exploded in the side facing Briar.
Naturally, the soldiers woke, the few that had not been assassinated in their sleep and those who had taken up weapons were quickly swarmed and the brays began their deep chants to empower the brown warriors. The two guards in front of the wendigo's cage turned to look at Briar and charged her but she had seen these tactics before from the bandits in Evernight Forest. One guard had his stomach and intestines spill from his abdomen with a well placed slice from Briar's sword, the other had his head cut cleanly from his shoulders, the body took one more charging step before it slumped to the ground and the head was left to roll away, a minion gave it a swift, joyful kick and then charged with his fellows to engage more soldiers.
"Yes! Yes! Here them scream Master, what music!"
Ox had woken and was beating his chest and roaring through the bars trying to be louder than the gleeful cries of the minions and the screaming of the Empire soldiers. Briar let fly more fireballs as she fought off more soldiers and soon enough many tents and shelters were nothing but huge bonfires, lighting up the dark sky for miles and sending up huge pillars of smoke. Most of the simple structures, tents and shelters, gave no motion... only those when the three separate assassination groups crept out from the entrances.
The soldiers' screams were dying out and Briar cast a glance to the smoke blotted sky, the Empire forces in Nordberg Town should be able to see this, hopefully that overplump pig, Borius, his entire civilization, would pay for what they had done to her. This was only the first camp fire she would start in her campaign against them.
As the minions continued to seek out and kill off the rest of the soldiers Briar turned to the wendigo cage to see Ox looking down at her through the thick white fur covering his eyes.
"Glow-eyed female open cage again?" the large monster sounded like it was pleading. Using the heat that came before the creation of a fireball in her hand she tore off the lock letting the giant white creature out, standing to his full thirteen feet of height. "Thank you."
"Your name is Ox, isn't it?" Briar asked. "I am Briar, the Master of these creatures, we are seeking allies to help us bring down the Glorious Empire. We saved you in the hopes that you would willingly join our cause..."
"You came back for Ox!" the wendigo's tusked mouth was open and his tiny, pink eyes were wide under his fur. "No one ever came back for Ox before."
"White fur, bright pink nose and skin, red eyes. It seems that he is an albino, Master. In wendigo society it is believed albinos are cannibals, it's absolutely untrue but it is firm believe these savages have." she heard Gnarl say over the link from the Netherworld.
"I kill many metalmen to protect my tribe, Briar, but when Ox was wounded they did not come back for me. Tribe did not help me." Ox explained as the fires raged around them, already the minions were scavenging materials from the fires. "They think me a monster amongst them, Ox did nothing to them! Ox saved those fools!"
"Where have I heard that before?" Briar thought solemnly to herself. "They will not be able to use you again if you come with me. I will not use you, but your immense strength is needed." Ox straightened up, like he was standing to attention, then he bowed, his curling horns almost hitting the snow at Briar's feet.
"Ox will go with Cheiftess Briar." The huge wendigo said "Briar has earned Ox's muscles, she saved me where Ox's own tribe would just leave Ox." He stood up again as Briar's sharp whistle rent through the air, drawing the attention of the minions and calling them up, it was time to return to the Netherworld with their new ally.
When Empire forces came to investigate the camp the next day, Briar, her horde and Ox were gone, the footprints of their wolf mounts disappeared with the blizzard that struck just as the investigating party and their protective battalion of soldiers began to track the prints across the frozen river. None of the fifty soldiers stationed at the camp were found alive.
Most were found still tucked in their sleeping cots, their throats silced.
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