Preparations are proceeding smoothly. Every single person in the military is always training, as they should be. The Red Hammer has dedicated herself to training the recruits per my orders. Despite looking satisfied at the renewed military of Necrothreat, I can see in her eyes that she is dissatisfied with me personally. I suspect she feels betrayed for the half a dozen of years of fabricated lies I have fed her.
I had little choice in that matter. The matter was, I even had to change my personality to suit my environment. Around my new host too many people would ask too many questions if I suddenly changed, speaking like a different person. In Necrothreat on the other hand too many people would ask too many questions towards a person that claims to be somebody who has been absent for a few years and looking completely different. Absence filled with travel around the world, which finally led me to the sounds of my visions – this beautiful creation called a chainsaw.
Of course there were other things, but most of them were schematics and dusty books. One of the most promising ones appeared to be what is called a “railgun.”I’ll have to have my scholars look more into it.
It’d have saved me some time if the Orchestra was accessible and… unmanned. I’ll have to make due with what I have, however. Those rotten traitors can have their silly instrument. I hope they choke on it.
What worries me the most is how quiet Armok and Ur have been, however. There have been few, if any, attacks the past few years. You could even say that the war has slowed to a crawl, a stalemate. Maybe this was for the best. It let us prepare. It was just that I couldn’t shake the awful feeling that they’re doing the same.
Shaking my head, I cleared my mind. Those were worries for another day. Right now it was time for the daily report. The door to my office opened as Lorbam Mishakmonom entered. He was the Count of Nutsletter, holder of the royal missives, royal advisor, designated regent and at times, duke of the northern passes. I just called him Scoot.
“G’morning, Scoot. Up as early as ever I see. You finally take my advice and go see that nice scholar lady you’ve been ogling for a week now? You know she can’t resist your county wiles.” Lorbam merely shot me a flat look as he pushed his glasses up.
He may look like a harmless fellow but he was anything except that. One would not be exaggerating to call him the greatest obstacle in my bid for the throne. Securing his support had been rather… costly. His reputation could only be matched by his greediness and lust for power. What people didn’t realize is that the power he wanted was not only the ability to act freely and with a total disregard for the consequences, but in the shadows, out of the eyes of the public. It’s the one thing that stopped him from killing his way up the former line of succession.
As for who this lady might be, she was merely a travelling scholar passing by our magnificent fortress. Naturally all the travelers, including scholars and entertainers had to be housed somewhere, and it just so happens that they’re stowed at the VIP noble quarters, where the upper social crust sometime gets funny ideas with them.
Despite all that the Count of Nutsletter did have a good reputation with the people, and for what it’s worth it, he did his job, that is, to serve me, with determination. He would’ve been the perfect servant if not for his rather unsavory solitary hobbies that take part in his hidden dungeons.
It’s my bone detecting senses that even allowed me to find out about it. He hid it very well. A little blackmail and a few promises here and there and he was fully in my hand. In return he merely got granted a few more freedoms and security that miners would not come anywhere near his dungeons.
He sat down in front of my desk and stacked the documents he was holding on top of it. With no time to waste he picked up a piece of paper and began giving me the daily report. “A masterpiece armor stand has been created yesterday. I’ve had it upholstered in the newly built barrack room. Delegating all criminal activities to the priest Lemonpie seems to have slightly backfired as he, excuse my pun, zealously appears to beat with reckless abandon those he deems evil while, as witnesses say, he chants passages of Omer. When questioned and forced to submit a report of his activities he merely omits all mentions of Omer, in order to comply with the ban on religion. Of course we expected people to not easily abandon their faith and have been lenient with them. I suggest we give Lemonpie a stern warning for future transgressions but otherwise leave him be. What do you think, your majesty?”
Looking to my right and left, I lean forward as I lick my lips and look at him conspiratorially. “What do you think about chess, Scoot?” He blinks at me. “Chess, my lord?” I lean back into my chair and answer him. “Yes, chess! It’s such a nice game to play once in a while, but don’t you think it gets boring after a while? Well, I was thinking. Maybe we can have real life chess! We’ll make a checkerboard room and put real people instead of figures in it! But, and here’s the great part.” I lick my lips with a smile.
“When a figure dies, the people in their place fight a duel to the death! Hahahah! Don’t you think that would make for a magnificent show? Of course it’d be poor practice to sacrifice our own. I was thinking maybe we can capture some of those humans that have been passing by. Put ‘em in a cage and then promise them we’ll give them their freedom if they’re on the winning side of the game. Of course after the game ends we’ll just execute them. This is Necrothreat after all, freedom is just an expression for death.”
Scoot just stares at me for a moment before he sighs “Yes, my liege. That would indeed be a rather interesting game. I would, however, advise you to restrain yourself from such plans until after our position has stabilized and the war has passed?”
I look at Scoot for a moment, and notice that he starts sweating at my staring. A moment later and I reply. “Yes, yes, of course, you are right. I knew I could count on you, Scoot! Come, anything else from those reports of yours?”
The count, relieved, takes another piece from the stack, and continues as if the previous conversation didn’t happen “There is the matter of a free Barony. You may in your kingly right appoint someone of your choosing to the title of Baron, therefore effectively elevating them to a noble. If you choose not to do so, then, if you permit, I shall choose a person I deem suitable for the position.”
Silence fills the room after her finishes speaking. It stretches on, a few moments, a minute, ten minutes. Scoot is shifting nervously in his seat as he notices my sad expression and dropped eyelids. Finally, my eyes raised, after a prolonged sigh I actually give him what he was asking for.
“Arx. Elevate Arx to a baron. Tell him to take the title and do whatever he wants with it.” Scoot nods and, noticing my poorer mood now, stands up and picks up the documents from the desk. He looks at me with one arm full of paper and gives me the salute. I give him a slight smile and nod him away.
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Topic: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy (Read 550697 times)