“Colonel, who are these degenerates you have brought to me?” the Prophet-General asked the Marine commander quietly, he was getting so weak he was beginning to feel dizzy. He fought himself for control, knowing that he could show weakness before neither friend nor foe.
“This is Chief-King Varex Jarrsen, Overlord of the Vaardic nations of Iceplain,” said the Marine commander with pride. Shalthazar smiled as the commander continued, he could not believe his luck! “My interpreter tells me that the Vaardic raiders were ready for us. This flanking maneuver was conceived with the intent of singling out our command ship.”
“No doubt his status as Overlord would have been strengthened had he beaten the enemy leader in battle,” replied Shalthazar. “Who is the other?”
“He says his name is Olaf Redskull and he is some sort of sub-king, or tribal king; we can’t be sure.”
The Prophet-General looked down at the pair, deciding what to do with them. “Captain, after we disengage from the Vaardic ship I want it scuttled. I want the survivors rescued from the water and thrown in the brig. Fire a couple of shots at the remaining ships. If they do not resist, offer the enemy quarter and take them prisoner. If they resist, kill them all.”
The captain saluted in response.
“A word with you, Captain Faloman,” said the wizard, in a very threatening manner. The captain nodded gloomily, and paused as Shalthazar placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, whispering the command word of the Sigilspell called soulfeed. The captain cried out in pain and fell to his knees before the Prophet-General. His vision was dimming and he found it very hard to speak. In fact, the pain was so great that the captain felt he was going to die, right there in front of his crew. As the essence of the captain’s soul began to slowly drift into the wizard’s body, Shalthazar began to feel stronger.
“Captain Faloman,” he said slowly, allowing himself to feed on only a small portion of the man’s soul. “Do you fear death? Do you feel that cold blackness drifting towards you?”
The man nodded, panicky.
“You are dying, Captain. And your soul strengthens our god as you do. Do you think it is wise to reprimand your betters in public?”
The pain would not allow the captain to speak, so he just mumbled something and shook his head.
“Good. If you fail to remember that again, and if you dare attempt to tell me what to do, our next encounter will result in the complete destruction of your soul. When I am done with you, you will simply cease to exist. And as you die, you will beg me to send your soul to the Seven Hells where your fate would be more pleasant. Am I clear?”
The pitiful bawling wretch blubbered and nodded and the wizard knew he had made his point. A good many of the officers and crew had seen how easily the Prophet-General had wilted their battle-hardened captain with the touch of a hand. Shalthazar smiled.
“We understand each other then. Carry on, Captain Faloman.”
Admiral Maynar, too, had seen what transpired between his junior officer and his commander. He had wanted to step in, yet to do so would undermine the Prophet-General, and certainly result in a more severe punishment. With a sigh, he resigned himself to watch what transpired and silently cursed the fool captain for offending their Prophet-General.
The moment the wizard released his grip, the ship’s captain swayed as though he might lose consciousness. “Captain, why have you not attended your duties?”
One of the officers who had witnessed the encounter rushed to his captain’s aid and helped the numb man stumble to his feet.
“1st Officer, it seems the good captain is in need of rest. Would you see to his duties, please?”
With panic in his eyes, the 1st Officer shouted at a pair of sailors and ordered them to help their addled captain to his quarters. Then the 1st Officer scurried off to carry out the Prophet-General’s orders. Shalthazar, rejuvenated from stealing a portion of the captain’s very soul, smiled broadly and thanked the 1st Officer for his diligence. The result of that spell had truly shocked the dark wizard; he had no idea that feeding on another’s soul could be so powerful! No wonder the gods could be so hard to defeat. The effect was even better than that of the Tides!
The officers followed with the prisoners, prodding them from behind. They were an undisciplined group and could not grasp the concept of standing in formation. He ordered the kings to stand in front of the rest of the captured prisoners. After some discussion among the junior officers it was decided that the Vaardic fighters would be allowed to stand as a mob, but they were manacled and under heavy guard. Shalthazar stood patiently, without comment, as the prisoners were readied for him. He did not like to micromanage mundane tasks; it was unbecoming one of his rank and stature.
“Let it not be said that the hand of Ilian Nah is not just. Interpreter, tell these ‘kings’ that they have met their new Overlord.” Shalthazar looked them both square in the eyes. “Tell them if they will declare their souls to Ilian Nah, and swear fealty to me, they will be spared.”
Upon hearing the translation, the Vaardic Overlord looked at Shalthazar and spat on his shoe. Without missing a beat, Shalthazar grasped the man by the throat with his left hand and traced a Sigil in the air with his right. He gratefully pulled the Shadow Tides into himself again and placed his right hand onto Jarrsen’s chest. Slowly, he forced the tips of his fingers into the man’s chest, breaking the skin with a sickening “slurp” as the rest of his hand forced its way deeper into the barbarian king’s chest. To the amazement of all, the Vaardic Overlord neither shouted nor struggled but looked the dark elf in the eye, although his face was contorted in pain. Then, Shalthazar ripped the heart from the man’s chest and smiled as his eyes met those of slowly dying man.
As the life left the eyes of the chief king, Shalthazar let his limp body fall to the ground.
“Ask them if anyone else would like to spit on my shoe,” the elf said acidly, as he tossed the bloody heart into the sea.
***
Olaf Redskull, thoroughly impressed with his new liege lord’s powers, immediately bowed in submission to Shalthazar, Prophet-General of Ilian Nah. Reskull, and those officers of the other ships who had chosen as wisely as their remaining king, were given quarter and allowed to walk freely among their far more powerful captors, even as their men remained locked up among the brigs of the many Nashian warships. Shalthazar knew, now that word of his honorable treatment of their king was spreading, that the king’s men would respect the Prophet-General for not having shamed their honor. And it didn’t hurt that the wizard had recruited a few apprentices, strategically placed among the other warships, who were eager to demonstrate their skills with the Sigils.
The fleet made good time to Volkstaad, home of the Overlord of Iceplain. The landscape stretched out along the horizon, bleak and dreary under a steel gray sky. Smoke fires, disturbed by swirling and angry arctic winds, created a hazy aspect to the city before the mighty Nashian Fleet. As Shalthazar’s fleet held a line formation in the main harbor of Volkstaad, home of the Overlord of Iceplain, some of the Vaardic survivors of the encounter with the Silver Dragon escaped to the mainland. The devious elf hoped that survivors, under the watchful gaze of his apprentices, would tell tales of the superiority of the Nashian Fleet. The seed of these tales had been planted among the minds of each of the Vaardic captives with the assistance of the Shadow Sigil. The newfound Vaardic allies would spread the word of their former Overlord’s treachery and that the great Prophet-General of Ilian Nah had helped save the precious fleet of the Vaard.
Umber warned the elf to use caution; sheer force might win him a throne, but it would not win loyalty. The elf knew that in order to cement his hold on the people of Isfjell, he had to appeal to their sense of greed and thirst for destruction. Once he had their attention, he would offer the Vaardic warriors a place in his military with a promise of war and spoils.
Shalthazar moved away from the great window of his stateroom and sat behind his desk. Before him sat Admiral Maynar, Colonel S
auger, General Nox, and Captain Faloman. The captain, recovered but still shaken from his previous encounter with the Prophet-General, sat bleakly before the desk, his skin pale, sweat dripped down his brow. He would not soon forget the lesson he was taught for disrespecting his Prophet-General.
Shalthazar’s stateroom was a beautiful chamber outfitted with luxurious furniture and a beautiful desk made from the rare Nashian Black Oak, said to have magical properties. The sun was setting on the western horizon and Shalthazar could feel the Tides shifting and rolling with the shifting tides of the seas; it was a peculiar yet powerful manifestation of magical energy.
The elf listened to the reports from the rest of the fleet. Good news. Only one ship lost, several enemy ships scuttled and few casualties among his own men. His own apprentices reported that he could expect a very mixed welcome in dealing with the Vaardic peoples in Volkstaad, but this was not unexpected. So long as their reception was mixed and not galvanized against him, he had little doubt of their success. With the use of a Sigilspell called Multi, the wizard could easily multitask his brain to function on several levels at once, each level independently recording and processing data and making decisions. This unusual ability helped him to get things done quickly and kept his subordinates on guard. And, in this way, he was able to simultaneously process the reports from his apprentices and the men seated before him.
“Prophet-General, I must protest. The presence of these barbarians will unsettle morale!” General Nox said strenuously, but politely. The elf did not answer but shifted his gaze to the Marine, Colonel Sauger.
“Prophet-General, I put my faith in the wisdom of Ilian Nah. Although I share my reservations with General Nox, a Vaardic Brigade under the General’s command could be an effective tool.” Colonel Sauger knew that his title, Commander of Marines, made him equal in title to both General Nox and Admiral Maynar, if not in rank. However, he clearly understood the value of keeping himself on the general’s good side and thus kept his answer neutral.
The general was silent a moment. “We cannot allow the Vaardic to assimilate into our forces. How can we trust the Vaardic forces not to turn on us in battle?”
“That is the easy part, general. We will appeal to their sense of greed and bloodlust. They will be offered a prominent role in battle and a share of spoils in exchange for their loyalty to Ilian Nah. The greed of the Vaard has been well documented.” Shalthazar again marveled at the wisdom and foresight of Umber; he had truly thought of everything. Including coffers with enough gold to bribe an empire, if need be. “However, to assuage your concerns, the Vaardic brigade will not assimilate with our forces. Instead, you will train them to fight as a single unit which will be placed under your command.”
Shalthazar rose from his desk and returned to the large window in the back of his stateroom. “Tomorrow we commence our plans for the conquest of a continent! Captain Faloman, make certain the prisoners are ready for a short boat ride tomorrow. Colonel, your Marines will to accompany me shore side.”
Understanding that they had been dismissed, the three commanders and the ship’s captain filed out of the stateroom and went about their tasks. Shalthazar poured himself a glass of rum, a spirituous beverage favored by the Vaard, and enjoyed its burning sweet taste. Yes, he thought. Things are coming together nicely!
***
They arrived on the shores of Volkstaad Harbor in the Kingdom of Haag in several small boats crewed by Roughneck sailors and carrying a contingent of Marines. Shalthazar insisted on leading as the contingent hopped over the gunnels of their boats and into the frigid waters of Volkstaad Harbor. Shalthazar had chosen this particular place to land for a reason; it was the seat of power of the recently departed Overlord of Iceplain. The sleepy appearance of Volkstaad did not fool the wizard, however. This enemy was powerful, but with the right display of might they would succumb to his own leadership, and do so easily.
The bitter wind blew a wicked gale threatening to tatter the various standards and flags of his forces to pieces. But the harsh tundra wind represented its people well. They were fierce and sturdy, tenacious - if undisciplined - fighters and skilled farmers. Shalthazar knew it was best not to underestimate what fire lie hidden in the blood of even the farmers and fishermen.
Seagulls fought the incessant wind overhead, spying a school of baitfish that had been disturbed by the boats in the surf. Without flinching the wizard waded to the shore, flanked by heavily armed Marine guards and followed by King Olaf Redskull. It was a simple city, really. There were several long huts with several chimneys in each, smoke from the chimneys was blown away as fast as it escaped into the harsh wind. These huts, or longhouses, commonly served as home for a number of Vaardic families. Other longhouses served as common meeting places, and the living quarters of the ruling families. Merchant houses, markets, and other buildings were located off to one side of the city.
After a time, Shalthazar’s horse was brought ashore and his troops marched onto the beach in tight formation. Shalthazar’s nightmare made the trip to shore in a larger boat with a square bow ramp that beached itself to the side of his troops. A wide square ramp fell to the sandy beach and the sleek horse from the netherworld ambled up the beach; steam rose from her hooves as they struck the damp sand. The Prophet-General climbed atop his nightmare and walked to the command position at the lead of his Marines.
Shalthazar knew that he must show these warrior people he was hard as steel, but honorable. The corpse of Overlord Varrex Jarssen was dragged through the surf behind the wizard where its stiff form was placed on the sandy beach. A team of Nashian Marines then strapped the corpse to a pole and set it firmly in the sand, corpse dangling for all the gathered Vaardic people to see. Some of the Vaard, upon seeing a fleet of boats bearing foreign troops to their shores, had come out to fight while others had come out for answers. All stood silently, ominously, awaiting some sign of intent from the Nashians. All was silent save for the blistering wind, violently whipping battle standards, and squalling seagulls; the latter perturbed at the disrespectful interruption by the newcomers.
King Redskull walked past the Nashian forces and addressed the silent group of Vaardic townsfolk, who, seeing themselves vastly outnumbered, chose not to attack the well-armed troops of the Nashians. Shalthazar’s personal interpreter accompanied Redskull. As the king shouted to his people over the howling wind, the interpreter translated and the wizard envisioned murmurs of disbelief running through the crowd. Shalthazar thought for a moment the Vaard might actually attack Redskull, but the Vaard king pointed to the last company of troops in the Nashian formation. Several of Redskull’s warriors had already accepted Nashian leadership and had been outfitted with Nashian armor and weapons. Shalthazar hoped that this show of fealty would encourage other Vaardic people to ally themselves with his forces.
A few of the elders of the city of Volkstaad approached Olaf Redskull, he was respected among them as king of the nearby lands of Dayne and ally to the kingdom of Haag. Sill, a heated conversation ensued among the gathered elders and powerful men of the kingdom with several obvious references to the dangling corpse of their former Overlord. These men were burly and barrel-chested, wearing furs and bearing massive hammers and battle-axes. Shalthazar and his men looked on silently, making no move, intending to intimidate their opponents with their stalwart discipline. There was much shouting, and finger pointing from the assembled barbarian lords, and one of the men took a swing at Redskull. The nimble king agilely sidestepped the punch and the man stumbled and fell in the cold, wet sand. The angry Vaard lord hopped to his feet and launched into a tirade at Olaf.
“Holy One, it appears we may lose our puppet,” said Colonel Sauger, concerned at the situational deterioration.
Suddenly, Olaf reached out and slashed the throat of his angry opponent with a small belt knife. The man fell to the ground, clutching his throat. Blood spurted through his clenched fingers staining the sand as he looked around frantically for help.
Shalt
hazar grinned inwardly at the sight. Olaf stood over him, looking his opponent in the eye, and watched him die. The other two men who had been on the verge of helping the first, stood silently by, declining now to interfere. When the man had ceased movement, and sand beneath him had turned red, each of the other two men knelt before Olaf and stretched an arm toward him in deference.
Olaf turned from his countrymen and walked back to Shalthazar and Colonel Sauger. He bowed low to the prophet and spoke to him.
“My liege, the kings of Svaka and Fomor are now in agreement and have sworn fealty to me and to you. The king of Kjavik did not. Long have we fought amongst ourselves; even under the rule of our Overlord, division has been our weakness when facing Southlanders. Now we are united under your leadership. You will bring us glory and wealth and respect!”
The dark wizard nodded at the king and said “Very well, Olaf. You may be sure the history books will look kindly upon Olaf Redskull, Healer of Iceplain, Bringer of Faith. Ilian Nah is pleased with you.” The elf was beginning to enjoy the charade of his holy persona. “You shall now bear claim to the lands of Dayne, Kjavik, and Haag.”
“Thank you, Holy One. We would be honored if you would share the Word of Ilian Nah with our people in the village,” said the king.
“King, I would be delighted to share the Word with your people.”
***
King Olaf Redskull and Prophet-General Shalthazar worked diligently to shore up allegiances among the various clans who were under the jurisdiction of the Vaardkings. There was much spite and bitterness to overcome. Differences were eventually forgotten for the sake of forging a true nation of Northerners, and for the lure of gold. Before long, King Redskull had made himself the most powerful king in Isfjell - with the help of the Prophet-General of Ilian Nah.
General Nox’s engineers established a barracks and built a defensible fortification around the city of Volkstaad. They dug a massive canal around the Volkstaad and diverted water in from the bay to form a moat. A fortified wall with defensible towers had been built in Volkstaad and a permanent trading base had been established. Orders for Vaardic seafood, fine sheep’s wool, and meat had been placed and shipments to Old Nashia would soon begin. The return trips would bring merchant settlers and more troops to help hold the lands brought under Nashian control. In addition, engineers and troops had been sent to nearby cities in Kjavik, Svaka, Fomor, and Dayne.
A Tide of Shadows Page 15