Fiction: Death on Dark Wings pt3

"Admiral Korgesh, I thank you for this honour, as you well know it has been
almost 10 standard months since my unit bore a name and insignia to be seen,
and by Dukgash it is an honour to finally reveal it.  I am Captain Lekahn,
son of Captain Velarr, son of Captain Arekkh.  Rise Sergeant Char, and
Sergeant Korre, and rise members of the 22nd Winged Death squad." Came the
reply.  One of the warpriests who before bowed with little haste seemed
about to speak, but remembered himself and his location, although he gave a
concerned look to the archmagi of the group.



            "Tell us, Captain Lekahn, you are early, I take it things are
going as expected, or better?"



            "My Admiral things are going so well that surely Dukgash himself
has his tusk inside our hearts, and his hatred within out eyes.  The
training is completed, and the exercises against the hobgoblin and bugbears
were a complete success, not a single casualty on our part.  All that needs
be done now is to take appropriate measurements and introduce the warpriests
to the wyverns so tha-"



            Suddenly the captain was cut off, as the insolent warpriest of
before stepped forward in an outrage.  "Admiral Korgesh, are we to
understand this 'captain', and I use the term loosely, and his unit are
riders of wyverns?  Those foul beasts infest out homeworld's moon, and have
a voracious appetite for anything not of their own kind, and often care
little enough for that rule.  They are psychotic by all means of the word,
they cannot possibly be trained, even from birth warpriests have been trying
for almost several hundred years with the aid of magic no less and are
unable.  By Dukgash there is no way in all the spheres that this soft
leathered fool could do it!".



            Korgesh, as usual very calm and very logic, merely turned to the
warpriest.  "Captain, what was the mortality rate of the seven scorpions we
used for your test runs?"



            "96% sir, it seems the breeding program has strengthened the
effectiveness of the wyverns poison as planned, more so than the 85%
mortality rate predicted.  For those here who are not aware, normal wyvern
poison has but a 65% mortality rate amongst the same subjects we used for
experimentation.  We even made sure the bugbears and hobgoblins were of the
same breeding, to ensure no random luck, and the insectare priests aiding us
assu-"



            Again the captain was cut off, the warpriest, whom Korgesh
remembered was named Blahk, stormed forward stopping but half a foot from
the captain, and bellowed at him.  "Insectare?  How dare you insult the holy
of Dukgash by involving lesser faiths, let alone such a scheming bunch of
bugs as the insectare?"  The warpriest spun on his heel and stalked
similarly to Korgesh, remembering at the last minute to stop at a respectful
distance, but rallied his courage and spoke in almost the same tone and
volume.  "You knew of this?  You allowed members of a race not to be trusted
in the slightest know of a plan that you seem to have hidden from even
Dukgash's own warpriests?  What impudence is this 'Admiral', that would have
you lord over our rights as warpriests!"



            "Your rights as warpriests", Korgesh replied, "have very little
to do with any of this.  The insectare clerics of Klikral know a great deal
more about poison than you, or any of your fellow warpriests, and also they
know better than you could comprehend the ideal of chain of command, and of
secrecy.  Had you known, for instance, I swear by Dukgash you would have run
blabbing to the archmage, let alone a dozen other warpriests within minutes.
Do not call my actions impudent, priest, lest I show you how truly impudent
and disrespectful I can be to the faithful of Dukgash, and cause myself the
pain of a dozen lashings."



            The wrathful warpriest backed off slightly, glaring at the
captain and refusing to meet the gaze of Korgesh.  The sergeants of the unit
were having a hard time of not grinning broadly, both knowing that the
warpriest had likely sealed his fate, but Lekahn glared back at the
warpriest, his eyes glowing the phosphorescent green of hatred so common to
scro, especially when their honour and achievements were in question, let
alone outright ridiculed.  He straightened his uniform slightly, the dark
brown leather not unlike that of his units' mounts quite on purpose, and
stood again in silent anger.



            "Captains Chajak, Fahar, Onor, step forward" ordered Korgesh,
"You three and your units will be escorting the 22nd on its mission.  All
marines apart from the 22nd will be outfitted with second class magical
equipment, including double normal healing potions, and an extra special
bonus.  So rarely have the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd units been to be sent on a
mission together, that not only do I want to make it a certainty that you
shall return - I wish to express my own esteem for the four units standing
in this room, and each warrior will be bestowed with a greater heroism
potion, the same as my own grand guard's carry around their necks.  Practice
the maneuver of drinking them profusely on the way to your objective,
grabbing a vial on a chain at your neck and smashing it in your fist, and
then drinking the contents without spilling a drop nor ingesting too much
glass is a skilled art."



            "Said objective is also a very special target, one that will be
spoken of in tales of our victory over the elves for hundreds of years to
come.  What we are about to take, honoured of Dukgash, is a target of almost
unlimited strategic import to us.  Where you are about to go will make you
the envy of ever marine in all of time, as you strike not the first blow to
the elves hearts, but drive an iron steak deep into that heart, shake it
around while looking deep into the elves' eyes, raise it to your muzzle and
savour both the smells and flavour within, all without the elves' knowing
until their corpses lie on the ground, lifeless pale husks."



            "You are to take the elven armada The Fate from the witchlight
marauders we stowed aboard it while we made it appear to be destroyed.  With
this armada we will have control of a mythal of the elves own creations, one
which will grant us the ability to cloak almost a hundred warships
constantly."



            "Would but I was stronger I myself would lead you to battle in
the name of Dukgash.  I shall be content from watching from my Battlewagon,
through a scrying device.  Of course, if there are any elven survivors, my
right as Admiral gives me first choice."



            The room was dead silent, the warpriests in the room shocked
with disbelief, the warriors elated with the bloodlust their leader's words
placed in their hearts.  The only sound to be heard by any in the room,
excluding the goblin who had long since lost the use of his hearing to the
available range, the timed noted of the signal flute giving the status of
the ship.



Tilaurin
tilaurin@?????????????????.com
http://www.planetbaldursgate.com/atreus/index.html
"Dying Swans/Twisted Wings,
Bring This Savage Back Home"
- Brave New World, Iron Maiden