Chapter 6:
The third floor of the Castle was the main floor for all
the higher class henchmen in Queen XenShr’s courts. As Rath
peered over his left shoulder, down the hall, he could see more
doors with elaborate decoration hanging by each door.
Glancing to his right he saw the piled up body of the Orcish
grunt that had lead him right to General Ya-jhoul. The left
corner of Rath’s mouth turned up in a half smile as he reflected
on the thought.
“Foolish horde!” Rath thought, “your ignorance is your undoing!”
Rath pivoted on his left heel ever so silently, then
began walked down the hall. This hall opened up into a large
room too. A wooden sign hung in the hallway at the opening to
the room. Although it was a number of paces away, the writing
was unmistakable. It read, “WAR COUNCIL ROOM.” Most, if not
all, of the dastardly deeds done by the Queen and her minions
were conceived in that chamber. It seemed to hate LoMet Rath,
and it was almost as if it knew he was there to bring
destruction to the Queen and her devilish Castle.
Rath could feel the anger radiating out of the center of that
room.
As Rath was walking down the hallway, he passed a couple
doors on his left and right. At every doorway, he would press
his ear to the door to hear if anything was going on inside. So
far, all but the Generals room were empty. Rath began to think
it strange, but then realized, even though the night was ebbing,
it was still early in the hours of the Day of Sacrifice.
The Day of Sacrifice came once every ten years. It was
the time when Queen XenShr was most vulnerable, and it was the
day she would take a virgin male and virgin female elf and
sacrifice them to her damned Gods. In return they would
perpetuate her immortality for another ten years. Even though
today was that day, XenShr would be immortal until midnight
tonight. By then she would have already preformed the sacrifice
and would be granted another ten years. That is why Rath had to
kill her now, before the sacrifice. That is why he had to use
the poison enchanted dagger, and that is why he must strike her
in the heart, then sever the Queen’s throat and remove her head.
One by one the doors passed,
all empty. However, as Rath approached the last door on the
left of the hallway, he could hear someone inside. Rath’s heart
began to pound a little harder as he neared the door.
This door was more elaborate than the Generals door. Flags,
metals, and ribbons, all testified to the horrible deeds he had
done. However, this door had something no other door had, it
had an inscription etched into stone above it. The inscription
read, “Tetrarch ZenKal.” Rath’s eyes opened wide as he gasped.
ZenKal was the Tauren Tetrarch, ruler over a quarter of the
Queen’s land, second in command only to her. He stood twice as
tall as most elves, and three times as brawny. ZenKal had two
large horns that came out of either side of his thick skull.
More than once, someone has tried to strike his skull with a
sword, only to break the sword. ZenKal stuck fear and terror
into even the most seasoned warriors.
As Rath read the sign and considered on all it meant, he
stopped for a second, dead in his place. His mouth hung down a
bit, but he was not breathing. Rath then twisted his head from
side to
side trying to push the fear out of his mind.
“Come now, LoMet Rath, you must press forward,” he said
to himself.
No sooner had he had that thought, then he heard with his
ears a voice all round him. It was not a loud voice or a harsh
voice, it was soothing, and calming. It was a masculine voice,
but the voice of a father to his brand new infant. “Do not
fear, for I will be with you…” Although Rath had never heard
this voice before, he recognized it immediately. It was the
voice of his great great grandfather, LoMet Gath. As Rath
listen to the voice softly repeating the reassuring phrase, he
sank to his knees and tears began to fill his eyes. On his
knees, he bowed his head and thanked his great great
grandfather. Then LoMet Rath stood up straight, wiped the tears
from his eyes and stepped right in front of the door.
He placed his hand firmly on the latchet and it made a
click-click as he squeezed the handle. Then he slowly pushed
the door open and let go. It made a wide arc into the room. As
the door swung open the enormity of the Tauren came into view.
ZenKal had dark brown and black fur all over his body. His two
huge horns were ornamented with small chains and shrunken heads
of small animals. He was somewhat hunched over, but then all
Tauren were that way. He had a huge gold ring in his broad
nose. ZenKal’s chest was as big around as the trunk of an oak
tree, and his arms were like massive limbs. He had on steel
plate arm bracelets to cover his forearms, and he wore thick
war-leather pants with bone weaved into the material. On his
left hip he wore a large battle-axe; that was as beautiful as it
was deadly. Ornamented with the most precious metals and
jewels, but strong as any weapon ever made; it was the weapon of
a Tetrarch. He was as formidable in appearance as the Castle
itself on a moonless night.
ZenKal was standing at the edge
of his table half turned in the direction of Rath. He was
leaning heavily on the table, but upon seeing Rath stood up as
straight as a Tauren could. The battle-axe
dangled at his side as he straightened up.
“You wear the garment of the Fletcher, however you are no
goblin,” ZenKal snorted in disgust. He yanked his battle-axe
off his hip with his right hand-hoof. “You can only be here for
one reason…to stop the execution tomorrow. You die where you
stand fool!” ZenKal said in utter anger.
Rath was standing in the doorway as ZenKal withdrew his
battle-axe. Rath focused his mind singularly as he said the
ancient words, “Fes Qual Terohl!” Again Rath repeated the
phrase this time louder, “Fes Qual Terohl!” His right hand
began to have a blue aura around it, and it hummed almost a
buzzing sound. ZenKal, recognizing the Elven spell of
Lightening, roared a hideous scream. In one swift move, Rath
picked his right hand straight up under his shoulder, then
pushed it forward hard and fast. A massive bright blue
thunderbolt leaped from his glowing hand. It seemed to escape
from every finger and from his palm. It shot out at ZenKal, and
struck him on his sternum. ZenKal shook violently as he was
pelted with the raw ethereal power of the elf, but he held fast
to his battle-axe. Most of the fur on ZenKal’s chest got burned
off, and a small amount of smoke swirled up from the burn. So
forceful was the burst, ZenKal took a few steps back in a
fruitless effort to retreat from the on-slot of energy.
However, almost as soon as the bolt came, it was gone. ZenKal,
though burned and suffering an initial hit, quickly regained his
composure. He brought his axe in a swinging motion behind him
and up over his head as he leaped up into the air at Rath. As he
was flying through the air, he opened his Tauren jaws and let
out a mighty roar. As he was about to crush this sorry excuse
for an opponent, Rath tucked his left shoulder, crouched
forward, and rolled on his shoulder under the near-by table. The
massive battle-axe went smashing into the floor as the mighty
Tauren Tetrarch landed. He immediately flung himself around to
the right with the edge of his axe leading the way. ZenKal quit
spinning his body as he came square to Rath, but the weight of
his death blade continued around. ZenKal, using his
awe-powerful arms, began to swing the axe around and up over his
head.
As his chest was wide exposed, Rath stretched forth his right
hand and exclaimed, “Flam Cas!” His hand glowed a bright red
then a flare extended from the directed fingers and struck
ZenKal again in same place as the lightening. The magical flame
seemed to enter into his formidable body. More hair was burned
off as ZenKal let out another painful shriek. Never letting go
of the axe but losing control of it, it smashed into the table,
sending the wooden furniture splintering into a million pieces.
Rath rolled out of the way of the flailing axe and propped
himself half kneeling against the stonewall at the back of the
room.
Bringing his head down from the shriek, ZenKal located Rath at
the back of the room. He grabbed his axe with both hands,
raised it high above his head and hurled it end of end at Rath.
Rath ducked just as the massive weapon smashed and stuck into
the wall, however, the blade grazed his left shoulder. Warm
elven blood began to seep from the wound. Rath threw his right
hand up to his shoulder, in a futile attempt to dull the sharp
pain. A sinister laugh was belched forth from ZenKal, “You and
your
pathetic mission die here! For the HORDE!” Rath jumped up into
a horse stance with his feet wide apart and his knees bent, body
erect. In this stance he was able to balance out the forces
around him. Rath then raised his hands into a “Y” formation
above his head and looked straight up into nothing. He began to
mumble something forceful, but inaudible. ZenKal had had enough
of this foolishness. He put his head down and prepared to
charge at the rebel elf. Chaotic energies began to swirl around
Rath. The battle-axe began to shake in its place, and what was
left of the table began to bump around on the floor. Flashes of
light burst around him as the mumbling grew. ZenKal began to
feel an invisible something pushing at him. Here, in this room
deep inside the castle, a wind picked up. The papers that were
on the table, now on the floor began to swirl up and around.
The veins in Rath’s arms, and neck were showing in full force
now. The mumbling now was very audible and very indiscernible.
ZenKal tried to let out a roar, but he couldn’t even hear
himself. Thunderous noise seemed to emanate from every wall.
Raths fists got tighter, and he flexed his entire body. Light
and Chaos were in absolute war around Raths elven body. The
battle-axe at Rath’s waist was shaking with extreme vigor as if
it was trying to break free from the stone in which it was so
imbedded. ZenKal hardened his brow and took off charging at
Rath. With all the fury of years of torture he ran at this
elf. Just as ZenKal was three paces away from LoMet Rath,
the battle-axe broke free from its imprisonment, and went
hurling end over end at the Tauren who had wielded it.
**Ssshunk**
The sound of steel severing tissue and bone was louder
than Rath thought. It broke his concentration and all the
energy that had so powerfully surrounded him was instantly
gone. He let out a quick breath of air, dropped his arms
and looked straight ahead. ZenKal was still standing in
front of him looking down at his chest. Buried deep in the
Tauren chest was the battle-axe. Red blood was draining off the
handle. ZenKal slowly looked up at his victor, gargled under
the breath of his own blood, then his eyes rolled into the back
of his head, and he collapsed. The axe made a clank as it hit
the stone floor under the weight of the Tetrarch. Again Rath
let out another gasp and then began to breath heavily and
quickly, his chest rising and falling. He knew he didn’t have
much time, for the noise must have alarmed the others. He ran
out of the room leaving the door wide open and headed down to
the large room at the end of the hall in a half trot… |
