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Change in Plans


“Bathe and clean the beast.”

“Yes, master Bal’taz.”

“I am not a beast,” Varick stated in a deep throated voice.

The Rirorni slaver Bal’taz turned back on his heels towards Varick and the five Rirorni guards in the dank prison cell. “Ah, it has a tongue.” He began to circle around the nude and shackled prisoner looking up and down the mountain of a man. “Not a beast, eh? You look like one to me.” Lifting up the irons, he said, “You’re chained like a beast.” Wiping a finger across his muscular chest said, “You’re dirty like a beast.” Sniffing. “You smell like a beast. To the nine hells, you’re even hung like a beast.”

The Rirorni guards chuckled nastily.

Eyeing them, Bal’taz smirked then turned his attention to his newest property. “You’re retort, beast?”

Varick’s eyes narrowed at the Rirorni slaver and then issues a deep growl in his throat.

“And you sound like a beast.”

Varick snapped his arms and legs taut causing the chains to rattle and strain against his skin. The Rirorni guards took a step back.

Bal’taz eyed the restraints to ensure they were holding. “However, I paid way too much gold for just a meager beast. I see something of value; a gladiator.”

“I have slaughtered every Rirorni put in my way,” Varick snarled.

“Indeed, you’re the top animal in the fighting pits. However, I’m going to instill the cunning and skill of an apex predator into you. With the blessing of the Great Khan Karameikos, I’m going to pay to have you train with the ancient weapon masters to become the best gladiator in the Rirorni Empire.” Bal’taz said.

Varick relaxed his muscles.

“Good boy,” Bal’taz said patting Varick’s shoulder. “Now, you’re an Alastarian? How do you feel about killing your own kind?”

Varick lowered his head at the question. “I am not their kind. Not after they abandoned me to you Rirorni. I would like nothing more than seeing every Alastarians crushed and wiped off the face of Ghea.” Turning his head to face Bal’taz, he narrowed his eyes and continued, “That also goes for your Empire.”

Waiving off the comment, Bal’taz said, “Yes, yes. I’ve heard it all before. Every Rirorni will be put to the sword and I will be the last kept alive to see my Empire in ruin.”

“Last?” Grunting, Varick retorted, “You are nothing special.”

* * *

Bal’taz’s path led to a long hallway flanked on each side by guards wearing heavy, fur-lined armor and holding long spears twice their heights. At the end, two guards stood by a great wooden door with an ornate carving of mounted Rirorni hunting a man with wolves.

“Great Khan Karameikos will receive no more petitions today,” a young guard said.

Bal’taz stepped close to the guard, ensuring he had a good look at his deformed face. “Do you know who I am, boy?”

“You’re a slaver,” the guard snorted.

The other guard, much older, looked to his younger cohort. “This is the renown Warlord Bal’taz; gravely wounded at the siege of Trocar. He was riding and slaying enemies of the Empire at the time you were just a sniveling brat soiling your nappies.” Pushing the youth away, he looked behind Bal’taz and up to the recently washed, clothed, but chained and gagged prisoner with the five escorts. “The hour is late master Bal’taz.”

“Yes, but-”

“But never too late for a warlord such as yourself,” the veteran guard interrupted. “Open the door.”

Nodding respectfully, Bal’taz and his entourage entered. The pleasant smells of flowers, exotic perfumes, and cooked food made his mouth water.

A span of thick, wooden beams, like the rib cage of some massive beast, traveled the length of the room. Standing in front of each timber stood a stationary palace guard. Between each pair of beams was placed a huge brazier with burning wood warming and lighting the area.

His group was motioned to one the side of the room behind a group of Rirorni elaborately garbed in silk clothing with bright colors. A grand, wooden throne at the far end of the room held a heavily clothed Rirorni, seated and leaning back was the Great Khan Karameikos. He was talking with a veiled woman and a Shagornan elf.

Bal’taz couldn’t hear what was being said nor did he care. He likely had an hour or more of boredom ahead of him with no chairs to sit. Only the Great Khan and royal entourage sat. However, his attention was drawn back to them when there were audible gasps of amazement uttered when two wooden chest filled with sacks of gold were brought out. It was a fortune. Bal’taz moved closer to get a better look. His deformed face caused looks of disgust and helped part the crowd. He then began to hear snippets of their conversation.

…“Do you not wish to receive the blessing of the Great Khan of Khans?”

The woman slowly removed her veil and headdress, revealing her face and short dark hair. Khan Karameikos held up his hand and began to mumble a prayer. Glancing around, Bal’taz eyes grew wide recognizing the woman. “By the nine hells, it’s My-re.

At the utterance of her name, Varick muscles snapped taught; his chains rattling audibly.

Bal’taz began to push through the crowd, but was immediately stopped by the chamber guards.

“Wait! I need to speak to her.”

“Back in line and control your beast,” the guards snapped gripping their weapons.

Bal’taz motioned to his five member crew to restrain the gagged Varick and follow him out the chamber. His meaning was clear enough. Hurry!

“What about the petition to have Varick train with the ancient weapon masters?” asked a member of his group.

“Change in plans.”


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