Chapter 3

One of the cage's wheels was making a regular squeak every turn it made. One of the Ogre warriors, walking next to the cage, was hypnotised by the sound and put his left foot on the ground exactly at the sound of the wheel. He was walking in perfect synchronisation without even realising it. The only thing that the Ogre noticed was the lack of chatting, gibbering, taunting and insults coming from the cage's occupants. And for that, he was blessing the Dark Lady. The prisoners had been a real nightmare. Normally, when prisoners realise that there is nothing they can do, they usually save their strength, dreaming of escape, observing for any opportunities; but not the Kender kids. Oh no, thought the Ogre guard. Those fiends were all too happy to torment the guards for no apparent reason or purpose. "And people calls us evil!" thought the guard in reference to the mental torture the kids put on the Ogres during the long days on the road.

Groshlak had to stop his guards more than once or else the kids would all be dead by now: "Niclash said alive! Nobody touch the prisoners!"

The Ogre leader came with an idea that proved to be successful. He decided to cut down the water and the food. No food, no energy. No energy, no endless chattering and bugging.

Groshlak was walking in front of the small convoy, eager to get to the city so he could get rid of the Kenders but also, not eager to enter the human city. The road, after making a sharp turn and coming out of the woods, finally revealed the city port of Flotsam.

Built many centuries ago, the human city used to be the capital of the region of Goodlund. It was also the main port for the entire northern coast serving both Goodlund and Balifor. People, from as far as the Khur desert to the west, came to Flotsam to make commerce or to embark on the many ships that usually berth in its safe harbour. The city itself was smaller than the capital of Solamnia or Ergoth but was big enough to have all the modern commodities. The town square was alive with costumers and sellers making business. The city guard had a constant and vigilant look around. The city itself was surrounded by a high rock wall, making the city a fortified one. In case of trouble, it was possible to close the doors and defenders could mend the walls to protect the city from any would-be intruders.

That day, the city looked more like a military base since the dragon armies invaded it and established their base of operation for the region of Goodlund. When the White Dragon army showed up on the city's doorsteps, the mayor had the good sense to capitulate without a fight, knowing that it would be a waste of lives to resist the might of the Dark Queen's forces. There is so much stone walls could do against dragons anyway.

Most of the people decided to stay in the city and they soon realised that the invasion wasn't as bad for them as they thought it would be. Discipline was maintained by the dragon armies' officers and some even dared to say that the business brought by the soldiers on leaves was good. That day, the city was overcrowded. Most of the troops camped outside the city walls and the city's inns were all booked up, filled to capacity by the officers and their guards.

From his vintage point, atop the small hill, Groshlak could see several dragons taking off or landing in the numerous camps around the overcrowded city. Three ships could be seen approaching the city port. The forces of the Dark Queen are moving toward Neraka for the meeting, thought Groshlak.

The brutish fiend was not happy to go to Flotsam. The city was full of the stench of humans. In every human he meets, he sees the cowardly Knight who had fatally injured his hand in combat, diminishing him to the rank and function of slave master, or babysitter, as he often told himself, stealing him from his great destiny among the Black Dragon army.

Looking at his left arm, where his hand should be, only made his anger bigger. Turning at the cage, he gave it a hard shake with his only hand, to wake up the Kender kids inside.

"Wake up rats! Look at your doom!" said Groshlak in the common language. The Ogre could easily speak to Ogre and Goblins but it was more difficult for him to talk in common. His vocabulary was more limited.

A nearby Goblin guard dared to reply: "Please, silence master. Don't wake them or they will start bugging us again!"

Enraged, Groshlak pushed the Goblin on the ground with all his strength and drew his sword. Walking next to a retreating Goblin, he said: "I'll do like I want with Kender! I'll do like I want with your greenish skin also! Clear?"

Without waiting for a reply, he hit the Goblin with the flat side of his blade right in the midsection of the guard. The Goblin had the good idea to stop moving, winded, and waited patiently that his master moved on. Barely controlling his anger, Groshlak turned around and started walking back toward Flotsam, leaving the guard to catch his breath and reach for the relative safety of the column's rear.

Approaching the many tents boarding the city, it was an easy task for the party leader to find the Black Army encampment. After half an hour, the group and their captives finally approached the sentry guarding the entrance of the army's camp. Even if fighting on the same side in this war, there was little trust between the different dragon armies. The sentry ailed the Ogre group before letting them enter the encampment.

"Who goes there?" asked the human guarding the entrance. He was dressed in full uniform and apparently enjoying his official status. He was the type of guard who took his duty too seriously.

"Groshlak," replied nonchalantly the Ogre without even looking at the little human in front of him.

"And what do you have there Groshlak?" pressed on the guard who saw the Ogre as a defiance to his authority.

"Me, on mission for dragon High Lord Lucien of Takar."

"Yeah, yeah, aren't we all?" replied mockingly the guard.

Groshlak turned his gaze at the human. He had to lower his sight a lot to be able to see the guard's eyes. His patience was getting stretched to the limit. But it was no use fighting this guard. It would only delay his departure from this place. All he wanted was to get rid of the Kenders and move on to another assignment, one that would give him some combat. Not some stupid babysitting stuff.

"Dragon High Lord here?"

"Nah, he left a couple of days ago for Neraka for the big gathering. But you probably already knew that since you two are the best buddies around," joked the guardian.

With barely controlled anger, the massive Ogre continued: "You tell me where is Dark Priest Niclash before I broke your skull in pieces?" adding action to words, Groshlak slowly removed his sword from its sheath and pretended to inspect its edges. The sword, if such an iron bar could merit the name, was almost as heavy as the human sentry. The last time the sword was sharpened was probably before the cataclysm, some three hundred years ago. As the Ogre saying goes: "Cut or grind, no difference."

If that was not enough, four more Ogres from the group came to their leader to see what was delaying the convoy. They were eager to go on leave and enjoy the city's numerous "attractions".

Getting the hint, the sentry's survival instinct finally kicked in and he wisely decided to stop picking on the brutes. There is so much protection an official function can give. "He left not too long ago for the city. He said he would be spending the night at the inn: The Lost Ship Inn."

"Good"

Putting his blade back on its back, Groshlak signalled the group forward.

Finding a small spot in the Black Army encampment was no small feat. The place was overcrowded with troops, horse pens, dragons pens (those two had to be separated by some distance or else the horses would go crazy). Circulating with the big clumsy wheeled cage was another problem. After much shoving, pushing, yelling, and a small brawl (initiated by the Kenders who decided to wake up for the occasion and didn't miss any opportunity to insult everybody within hearing range), the group finally found a place to park the cage wagon and the leader gave orders to his subordinates: "Wait here. Don't touch the Kenders. I will be back soon."

Making one last check at his group and the captives, Groshlak crossed the Black Army encampment again in the direction of the city gates. The walk was a short one. The Ogre saw very soon that yet another guard was guarding it. Deciding to save time, he withdrew his sword before talking to the guard. To his amazement and relief, the guard just made a small node and let the Ogre pass without any question.

Entering the city walls, Groshlak kept his sword drawn at the ready but fortunately for him, his huge size alone guaranteed him an eventless walk to the inn he was seeking. During his walk, he recognised some of his old comrades at arms from the time he was in active duty, from the time he had his two hands, from the time he was not a cripple, as some would say in his back. Groshlak completely ignored them. Talking with them would only reopen his moral wound and serve no purpose. Only the dragon High Lord could re-establish him in his old company and the Ogre was supposed to deliver the prisoners to him. It would be his chance to meet him and talk to him. A rare opportunity as the High Lord was very busy (and a bit paranoid) so he admitted few people close to him, if not absolutely necessary. But if he truly had already left for Neraka, Groshlak would have to take a difficult decision: leaving the Kenders here and be done with them or carrying that vermin all the way to Neraka in order to be able to talk to the High Lord.

But first things first, thought Groshlak. Let's find the Dark Priest. He will know what to do.

The Inn of the Lost Ship was actually a normal big house turned overnight into an inn by the necessities of the war. The Ogre could hear and smell the humans inside the inn. It was easy to imagine the large, drunk crowd inside the place so Groshlak waited a couple of heartbeats to make a reserve of fresh air and patience, before entering the place.

The Ogre entered directly into the common room. It was very small, much smaller than the noise outside could make it possible to believe. Overfilled with patrons, the Ogre had to shove his way to the bar. The inn keeper, behind his small bar, asked the Ogre if he wanted a drink. Ignoring him, Groshlak looked at the people in the common room. The Dark Priest was easy to find in the crowd as people respectfully (or fearfully) gave him as much space as possible. It was bad luck to touch a Dark Priest, so imagine what it would be to bump into one!

Seeing his partner, the priest pointed at the door as a sign to meet him outside of the inn. The bent over Ogre was all too happy to comply and exited the place as fast as he could, to the perils of any unfortunate beings that just happened to be between the towering brute and free air.

Once outside, Niclash acknowledged his partner: "So how was the trip east?"

People walking on the street made a small nod to the priest of Takhisis, more out of fear then out of respect. The Dark Priest enjoyed a formidable protection everywhere he went in the dragon armies. The Dark Queen was renowned to be very protective of her followers and was granting them very powerful abilities and powers. It was always better to have a priest of Takhisis on your side then against you.

The Dark Priest was small of stature. A few years over twenty, he was draped in a long black robe. A hood pulled over his face covered his delicate facial features. The only ornament he possessed was a medallion pending on his neck , representing a dragon with five heads, the symbols of the goddess he represented. A novice in his order, his ambitions knew no boundaries. He would do anything to see him climb the hierarchical ladder of his order. He saw living being only a way to gain power and title. He would torture and kill his own mother to gain prestige in the priesthood if somebody else hadn't already done it. He was not cruel, he only saw opportunities everywhere. And to gain the favour of the most cruel and evil Goddess that existed in the abyss, one had to do dirty jobs.

"Boring! Got some little devils," replied clumsily in common the giant Ogre.

Since Niclash was a novice in the Dark Priest order, and Groshlak was a slave master in the dragon army, there was no direct military link between the two partners. Neither was the boss of the other. Only mutual interests linked the two partners. They met about two weeks ago on the battlefield, during the battle into which he lost his left hand. The priest had been able to save the Ogre's life by making his opponent blind with the use of his dark powers for a few precious and fatal seconds, fatal for the Solamnic Knight. Two days after the battle, Niclash found the wounded Ogre in the army camp and learned about his demotion. Thinking that it might be useful to have such a good fighter at his side, Niclash decided to let Groshlak into his plan; a plan about kidnapping Kender kids...

"Good, good. We should bring them to Neraka for the meeting then," replied a satisfied Niclash.

"No! Was supposed to drop them in Flotsam! I'm done now!" The Ogre let out an angry shout at the sky. Passersby looked alarmingly at the giant and quickly moved away. Niclash didn't even blink, so confident he was, in the Dark Priest protection.

Thinking for a couple of heartbeats, Niclash continued calmly, like a patient father, explaining a simple fact to his young kid: "Listen Groshlak, in a couple of days, the Dark Queen will enter the mortal world at Neraka during the meeting."

"The Dark Queen here? In mortal form?" interrupted the Ogre. Groshlak was very surprised by that news. He instinctively looked at his left stump.

"Quiet," hushed the priest, "we must be secret about that. Not everybody knows about that fact. The information is valuable for us. It would be very good for both of us to be able to be there when that happens. Those little bastards could be our entry ticket to the dark temple. Not that many people will be able to enter the temple for the ceremony." Looking also at the Ogre's missing left hand, the dark cleric continued: "when that happens, it will be a good time for me to ask a favour to our Queen. Yes, she could restore your lost hand, my friend."

It was too good to be true. Groshlak survived all those years for a reason. He was careful. He looked intently at his human counterpart and asked: "Why you help me?"

"It would be beneficial to both of us. I will be in the favour of our Queen. It would increase my power! And with your hand restored, you could help me kill my master, the High Priest Tolistan. With him out of the picture, I could take his place and restore you to a position of your choice in the army or beside me as an honour guard. Whatever you want will be possible but for that, I need your help a little longer my friend."

Groshlak never had a friend and he was pretty sure he didn't have one now. But the proposition was a good one and besides, he had nothing left to lose. It would be the first time he would murder somebody on his own side. The Dark Queen encourages those little schemes to insure that only the strongest survive and fill up her ranks.

"Don't know… It seems too easy," The Ogre was fishing to see if there was something else behind all that. One was never too careful when dealing "promotions" in the dragon armies.

"It will take only a couple of days from here to Neraka. What do you have to lose?" pointed out Niclash.

The Ogre was thinking hard about the proposition, suffering the humiliation again of taking care of those little thieves. Entering the capital of the dragon armies leading a bunch of drop off carrying Kender kids was not exactly what he had in mind. But if he could recover his hand, his military career could be restored at last! And so would his revenge of the Solamnic Knight be possible.

"Ok. I'm in," he said reluctantly.

"Good my friend, good."

"But maybe they die in the desert? Hard to cross," pointed out Groshlak.

"We will buy some supplies to make sure that most of them make it." The priest instinctively patted his purse.

Nodding, the Ogre said: "Let's go. Sooner we done, better ."