A tankard slams into a table as hearty roar is heard from its owner. The woman in front of Apiks sat bearing two braids of long gray hair with hints of gold in them as the liquid in the tankard sloshed in rhythm to her laughter. The room was one of the bedrooms, table and chairs in the middle. Apiks pursed his lips before speaking.
“So you’ll do it? Can I leave the expedition in your hands? It would lighten my heart to know that you’ll be the one leading it down there.” This was a critical part of the plan. Tension lined the corners of Apiks’ eyes, although the inebriated female forumite likely could not see them. Of course this wasn’t just any inebriated female forumite. It was the Red Hammer herself.
“Of course, captain, anything for you. I’ve had an eye for the depths myself for a while now. You owe me a barrel of drink when I come back though. Omer knows that’ll help with the preaching of his damn priest. I swear, the fella never shuts up! Omer this, Omer that, yes, Omer helped me take a shit this morning. Bah.” The Red Hammer takes another swing at the tankard, finishing it, taking special attention for the last drop. Apiks merely smirked at her.
“I’ll give you two if you come back without any casualties. Just remember, we need a full map of the depths. Clear whatever you can from monsters, but avoid their nests. Instead just mark them on the new map.” Apiks stood up from his chair and downed his own tankard in one go. Alcohol no longer really affected him thanks to his new disposition, but that didn’t mean others had to know. “Take Rogue and The Blockaded Urges with you. That’ll tally you up to four people, more than enough for a quick scouting mission of the depths. It’s a shame we don’t have more people in the military. How far we have fallen to be stuck with only six people in total. Anyways, you depart the day after tomorrow. Make the arrangements, I’m going to see if I can do something about our manpower problem.”
Apiks heads for the door, as he is leaving he throws a glance at the Red Hammer and sees her doing the double-breasted salute. Of all the things to survive so many years, that brought Apiks the most pride. Alas there were more pressing concerns to take care of. Necrothreat has fallen into sin and disrepair. The mighty military is no more. Forumites pray to the very false gods that brought about our ruin and have forgotten their original mission. They say we are in the middle of a golden age. I say that we are one step from our permanent destruction. For years I have watched this place from the shadows, biding my time, but I cannot afford to do that anymore. The next steps to Necrothreat’s greatness were simple. Deal with Enemy Post.
“So where are we going, Apiks? What’d you call me for? Where in the name of Omer are we even? I don’t think I’ve been in this part of the fortress. Hey, stop and answer me, where are we? Why are we in an empty room? There’s nothing here! Hey, turn that thing down, I know you love the sound of it but it hurts my ears. You sure we should be this close with that thing of yours? Won’t we get hurt? Huh. What? What are you saying? Apiks? No, no, stay back. Stay back. Nooooooo.”
And this is why you don’t let farmers lead the fortress. They start getting funny ideas about their worth. It’s a damn shame about the crown though, I liked it. At least now I had my trusty chainsaw Tanbutan and shield – The White Noble. Ah, well, the crown wasn’t truly gone anyways. It was just thrown into a realm outside my reach. Damn farmer.
On the bright side, it was time to wake this desolate place from the haze of its dream. I had everybody in the fortress gather in the throne room. It wasn’t that grand of an affair but screw it, the more that saw it the better. I walked through the corridors leading to the throne room and opened the gate. Quite a lot more people than the first time I did this were here. Quite a lovely sight I might even say. Of course it was less lovely when nearly seventy ugly mugs were looking directly at you. Ah but it hardly mattered. They opened up a path for me as I started walking towards the front.
And there at the end I saw it. The throne of bone no longer looking like one. Having been filleted and modified it looked more like masonry and engraving with a lot of silk instead of the original red and white motif the throne of bone had. Losing the crown hit me hard since I lost its sweet whispers, but seeing my throne defaced like this just makes my blood boil. Ah well, all shall be corrected soon enough. I finally reached the front and stood on a side podium next to the throne, and the Queen of Masons – Ustuth “The Faithful” - who was in it. Finally as every eye was on me and silence permeated the room, I finally spoke up.
“Howdy chaps, how’ve ye been doin’? Quite a lovely day, innit? Then again it’s always the same down here. I’m real glad we plugged that hole in the roof though, it made me a real miser to see the sky.” Apiks turned towards the Queen of Masons. “Yo, Usthie, mind stepping down from that chair? I’ll be honest honey, it doesn’t fit you at all. Sure you got the motif down and everything, but that’s simply not what that chair was made for, aight?”
Another bout of silence. Absolute shock ran through the entire chamber and it could be seen on the faces of all present. Only Rosywander and his host yawned from the sides, having expected this. The Queen tried to say something but nothing could come out. The throne room appears to have darkened as Apiks’ joyful face takes a more serious note. Ustuth on the other hand managed to gather her wits about her and spoke.
“Red Hammer, please take away this dissident.” She said with a wave of her hand.
“Wrong choice.” Said Apiks with a wave of
his hand.
Ustuth, the Faithful, the Queen of Masons, flung from the throne onto a wall on the far side, breaking noises punctuating the air. She crumpled into a heap on the ground. The audience to this affair on the other hand was speechless. That hardly mattered though, this wasn’t anything new. I went to the throne, sat down and threw my leg over the side of it.
“Doren, my crown, if you will, please.”
Rosywander’s host walked up to Apiks with a boring expression as he made a mock bow and delivered to Apiks a limestone crown. A shame, that, but it’d have to do for now. The throne itself started to change, as it physically grew, molding itself into what it once was, with bones protruding from every side, until it finally reoriented itself as the throne it once was. The Throne of Bone itself.
“Alright fellas, that’s all. Red Hammer’s not here, she’s on an expedition in the depths so she can’t exactly do much about this. I’m sure y’all have heard of me from the stories from before. Yes, yes, you think right, I am
that Apiks. Anyhow get back to doing whatever you were doing, I’m taking over from now on. That pile of bones behind you, the former queen, can be considered my concubine from now on. And to you Orchestra folks, please try and do something against me, would save me the time searching for you. Oh yeah, religion has been outlawed by the way. No more Omer this, Omer that. Also, expect to be conscripted into the military in the coming days, y’all seem to have forgotten the purpose of Necrothreat. The place to stand against Ur and Armok while searching for the legendary guardians.
Also, I used to be called the Lord of Necrothreat back in the days. Well, I’m giving myself a promotion. Please call me the King of Necrothreat.”
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Topic: NecroThreat IV: Fortress for BFEL, God of Necromancy (Read 513382 times)