One Moo'r Plow

BBook 2: Chapter 37: Domain II.

Monsters arrived on the most unremarkable days. Most often, they came in loud, ferocious forms, announced by roars and the sounds of carnage. More rarely, they came quietly to slip in unnoticed and spill blood.

Valencia was neither. She simply existed. Her very presence exuded dread and malice, disdain and disregard projected onto all that surrounded her. An aura of oppression that stifled all around the dreadknight, sapped the life and joy from even the smallest things. Steel fingers pressed into my shoulders, an invisible force that demanded I yield. Through it all, she stood, the rictus of a smile upon her lips.

Did you not ask to see me? A cruel taunt from a crueler woman. Do you now regret that decision?

She had appeared moments earlier, a dark specter even beneath the mid-day sun. Stood before the gate and let it be heaved open to allow her presence. Once more, she intruded into my home.

This time, however, by my invitation.

I have need of your talents.

If the smile on her lips could possibly grow any more fiendish, it just did.

A dangerous thing, to deal with monsters. Be careful, or we might bite.

Her posture remained loose, carelessly leaned back in the chair I had offered. I too seated myself and watched as her eyes tracked around my lodge. It felt wrong to invite Valencia of all people into my home, but I needed to keep this conversation private.

Twas a dark time, when I did not feel like the walls of my farm kept out observers.

It was some small courtesy that she did not interrupt as I explained the danger that came. If the prospect of facing a minotaur warband excited her, it did not show. The more information I spoke, the more concerned I grew. This should have at least enticed her. Instead, the dreadknight remained expressionless.

So you wish to alleviate the problems incurred upon you by presenting them to me as an opportunity for slaughter? Something a fool would think smart to do, Im sure.

I do not. I retorted. I am asking for your help. I do not intend to trick you into doing my dirty work. In all these lands, you are the expert at waging war against my kind. And now I have need of that.

My help is not, nor will it ever be, free. This does not interest me as much as it once would. But to have you owe me something, oh that is worth something to me.

We both knew this could be ruinous for me. If I looked hard enough, perhaps I could find another source to help me with this. Perhaps I could throw in my lot with the queen and make an enemy of the baron, gamble it all that help might arrive quickly enough. The Baron himself remained neutral to this all, more on his plate than he wanted already.

But I would not be forced into either alliance. I knew the evil that sat before me now, and I chose to bargain with her. Better the devil I knew than one further away.

Ask, and you will receive. I returned. Help me still this horde, and I will grant you one favor within reason.

I did not bother to enter more stipulations into this agreement. She would not accept them, no matter how small.

Tell me then; scouts, information, the suspected size of this force, their arrival.

Abrupt as the shift in her tone was, it reminded me that she had waged actual war against my kind. This was her field now, one of her areas of expertise. What little information I had was passed along. It was only when I mentioned the possibility of Godtouched among their ranks that she seemed to take actual interest.

Now, her smile was that of a predator. Only in this moment did she begin to anticipate and excite. Ignorant as I was on this subject, I chose to ask why.

Those honored by the Gods Above and Below are focal points of power, beacons of glory and interest. If I have to explain this to you, then you yourself have failed.

I knew this, Valencia. I have lived and experienced it myself.

To become one of these so marked, a feat so great it warrants attention must be accrued. She smiled now, dangerous and filled with venom. The slaying of a Godling, perhaps.

The hair upon my body stood on end when she spoke those words. Evil intent surrounded me now, dread roiling from the presence of this monstress.

But they chose to snub me for you.

She seemed.. surprisingly understanding of this.

You did your part, took the great reward, saved the day. Until tomorrows apocalypse. And the one after that. It all gets tiresome in the end. I was angry, at first. Furious, even. I vented my frustrations into the dungeon, and disappeared for a while.

It is the Gods that deserve my scorn, not you. It is they that chose to pass me over.

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She leaned forward now, eyes intense as she stared into mine.

Do you know another way to become Godtouched?

Although this information had only been recently imparted, I did, actually.

To slay one yourself?

The direction this conversation was being steered in unnerved me, in truth.

Now, I could slay you. Overcome someone who in turn overcame a trial so great they were deemed worthy. She paused here. I will not. There are other fates in store for you.

What she thought those were, I refrained from asking.

The Godtouched are mine to kill. This, she made her one demand. The rest I will help you withstand. But those that you have heard are among them will be brought low by my hand.

She did not realize how little qualms I had with that. Indeed, I was delighted that it would be Valencia who stood against the worst of the horde. How strong these Godtouched were, I didnt rightfully know, but I assumed my own strength was the baseline needed to achieve that status.

I will see them trod under my boot. Watch as the light leaves their eyes. Have them admit in their final moments that I am greater than they. And only then will I allow them death.

A tad unhinged that might sound, but I took solace in that she would carry out that promise to the best of her abilities.

Now tell me what else has developed while I have been under the earth.

This demand I heeded, and did my best to impart to her what knowledge I had. The nobles that circled Ironmoor, the rumblings of war, the Verdant Dawns retreat.

It was only when I mentioned why the Verdant Dawn retreated did her smile grow larger.

Dwarves. She repeated.

It should have alarmed me even more that unlike every other person to come across the fiends, Valencia sounded excited.

Why?

This I asked, and did not like the answer I received.

The Gods Below have gifted me this opportunity. She spoke now, a mad gleam in her eyes. Across the world, all are too scared to lift a finger when a dwarf enters their presence. Warlords let them stroll in and ransack their palaces. Kings rush to pamper their every need. All for fear that the axe might turn upon them. Only the Dawn Mages of Thell have no fear of them, with their islands in the sky.

Her tone was scornful now, an obvious disdain for those she spoke of.

They quiver in their boots whenever a bearded midget so much as looks at them wrong. And this has led to arrogance. There was a time when dwarves at least respected the upper world and its combined strength. But the proverbial boots have been outgrown, and its time someone put them back in their place. Out of sight, out of thought under the dirt.

And you intend this?

That, I will leave for another time. But know this; their time is coming.

You speak of madness.

I speak of putting them back into their place. Tearing down their oh-so-haughty superiority. Letting those of us that dare stand against them take back their pride.

Kill one, and they will bury us all. I know this. You know this. Everyone does.

Now, the gleam in her eyes was devilish.

A wee little fiend perched on my shoulder has told me otherwise, Garek. The dwarves invaded the Hells Below.

I have heard of this. But I also heard they purged the demons and devils and have control of the upper layers now.

Of course you heard this. What sort of fool would tell you that they have misstepped? Nonetheless, the have bitten off more than they can chew. For almost all fo their empire, the dwarves have relied on overwhelming logistics and out-valuing their opposition with resources and bodies. A sound plan that has snowballed exponentially over the past centuries. Despite not being children of the Old Gods, they are on equal footing with the Elves of all things.

But they have made a crucial misstep here. Her smile was evil now. Hell has no shortage of bodies. The upper layers are not part of the actual Hells Below. They are buffer zones that still exist in the mortal coil. Demons that die inside them are simply rebirthed down below. The dwarves thought that if they burst into the Hells and began to kill demons directly, in a place where they die forever, they would swiftly maintain the upper hand.

I take they did not?

Not at all. They sundered the gateway, and now it remains. Not so easy to close those doors as it is to open them, Garek. And now, they are caught in the false upper layers of the hells, slogged down and waging a bloody, costly war against an endless tide of fiends whose bloodthirst and willingness to wage war will never wane.

But of course, no one save for the dwarven elite would know this. No one but the devils themselves.

It was the last part that reminded me of the demon she had crushed and chained within her. Reminded me how terrifyingly powerful this woman was.

It was at this very moment that someone chose to knock on my door. Most of me wanted to tell them to run, to get as far away from here as possible. To not interrupt me while I bargained with this evil. The other was kind enough to open the door and say that to their face.

Tash was who the door revealed. The drow seemed set in saying something, and then his eyes slid to the side.

Fear entered his scent faster than anyone I had ever seen. Words cut off halfway from his mouth as the mans very skin began to shiver. A mental strobe caused me to stumble back, clutching at my head. I saw him turn and dash away, far faster than anyone should run.

Not fast enough.

Valencia burst up and forward, darkness flaring around her.

Kneel, worm. She snarled. Power burst from her, and Tash collapsed mid-stride, locked in place as I staggered up. Confused was the only way to describe as I loped after Valencia, head thundering with pain. A grey being kneeled in the dirt, locked in Tashs clothes. My mind screamed as it flickered back and forth. First a drow, then a satyr, all begging me for help.

The dreadknight kicked him square in the jaw and the flickering ceased, his limp form collapsing forward.

Well, well, well. She remarked. It seems good Queen Elith has already sent her lackeys to keep an eye on you and influence what happens around here. I should have suspected.

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