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Authors: David Bilsborough
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ostentation.
If there was one sacred cause that could unite the different religions and bickering factions of this world, it would be a crusade against Olchor. So the crowd now listened attentively as Nibulus continued, the very air becoming dark with anxiety.
Well , Nibulus considered cheerfully, that wasn’t too painful, was it?
‘As you know,’ he went on, ‘Peladanes have always stood uncompromisingly against the devilish schemes of Olchor, and it is because of this noble tradition that my father has agreed to fund this quest . . .’
There was a snort from Bolldhe, who swiftly clamped a hand over his mouth, but said nothing.
‘. . . but it is only right that I now hand you over to the instigator of this holy quest. My friends, I give you Finwald.’
It was not often that Artibulus’s face registered expression, but on this occasion it bore one of quiet astonishment. That’s it? A few mumbled mewlings and you’re going to pass the sceptre to a civilian ?
Finwald rose dutifully, amid a general hum of irritation, contempt and hostility from the crowd. This priest was absolutely not welcome here in the hall of warriors. Finwald glanced nervously down at the Warlord’s son, but Nibulus merely motioned him to get on with it before any catcalls started.
The priest cleared his throat and began, ‘Brave fighting men’ – then immediately realized how feeble he sounded in this cavernous hall. He quickly raised his voice, though in doing so found that it now quavered like a boy’s.
Nibulus joined his father in staring ceilingwards.
‘Undoubtedly you are all aware of the many forms and guises that Evil entity has assumed in the past,’ Finwald continued bravely. ‘Ever and anon will the Father of Lies send out his minions to corrupt our world, and it has always fallen to men such as yourselves to stand in their way. Indeed every page of history is written with such strife. Some of these servants of Evil are well known to us, others less so, but it is of one pernicious above all that I now speak, namely the Rawgr-lord, Drauglir.’
The hostility from the throng instantly faded, but the contempt multiplied tenfold. Drauglir was infamous as one of the most dangerous Rawgrs ever to have existed, but that was half a millennium ago. So what was this string-boy doing, telling them all this rubbish?
‘Over five hundred years ago,’ Finwald hastened on, ‘this same terrible demigod held sway over the whole of the Far North, threatening to infect our entire world with the plague of his Evil. It was only a timely and unprecedented league of Peladanes, Oghain-Yddiaw, mercenaries of Vregh-Nahov and others that finally cut out that abominable cyst and hurled it onto the triumphal bonfires of Justice. His land was invaded, his fortress besieged, and he, together with all his vile minions, was thrown down. Not one soldier or necromancer of the Maw was left alive, and the entire accursed place was purged of Evil.’
He paused for breath, then continued quickly. ‘However, the sword of Arturus Bloodnose did not eliminate forever the name of Drauglir. Such dire entities have a knack of hanging on, and even now there persists the legend that one day Drauglir would rise again, after five hundred years. Just about now, in fact.’
Another nervous pause. ‘As anyone in Nordwas can tell you, I myself possess an exceptional skill in theurgy – meaning I can contact the spirits to request their advice. I do not boast in saying this; I simply tell the truth, as many will gladly verify. Over recent months I have been in contact with my deity, and he has revealed many things. So it is my woeful duty to vaticinate to you all today, my friends, that the legends concerning Drauglir’s second coming are true. He will be among us again before the year is out !’
There was a moment’s silence, then the entire hall erupted in raucous laughter. There were also angry shouts, and at one point a throwing axe thudded into the table in
If there was one sacred cause that could unite the different religions and bickering factions of this world, it would be a crusade against Olchor. So the crowd now listened attentively as Nibulus continued, the very air becoming dark with anxiety.
Well , Nibulus considered cheerfully, that wasn’t too painful, was it?
‘As you know,’ he went on, ‘Peladanes have always stood uncompromisingly against the devilish schemes of Olchor, and it is because of this noble tradition that my father has agreed to fund this quest . . .’
There was a snort from Bolldhe, who swiftly clamped a hand over his mouth, but said nothing.
‘. . . but it is only right that I now hand you over to the instigator of this holy quest. My friends, I give you Finwald.’
It was not often that Artibulus’s face registered expression, but on this occasion it bore one of quiet astonishment. That’s it? A few mumbled mewlings and you’re going to pass the sceptre to a civilian ?
Finwald rose dutifully, amid a general hum of irritation, contempt and hostility from the crowd. This priest was absolutely not welcome here in the hall of warriors. Finwald glanced nervously down at the Warlord’s son, but Nibulus merely motioned him to get on with it before any catcalls started.
The priest cleared his throat and began, ‘Brave fighting men’ – then immediately realized how feeble he sounded in this cavernous hall. He quickly raised his voice, though in doing so found that it now quavered like a boy’s.
Nibulus joined his father in staring ceilingwards.
‘Undoubtedly you are all aware of the many forms and guises that Evil entity has assumed in the past,’ Finwald continued bravely. ‘Ever and anon will the Father of Lies send out his minions to corrupt our world, and it has always fallen to men such as yourselves to stand in their way. Indeed every page of history is written with such strife. Some of these servants of Evil are well known to us, others less so, but it is of one pernicious above all that I now speak, namely the Rawgr-lord, Drauglir.’
The hostility from the throng instantly faded, but the contempt multiplied tenfold. Drauglir was infamous as one of the most dangerous Rawgrs ever to have existed, but that was half a millennium ago. So what was this string-boy doing, telling them all this rubbish?
‘Over five hundred years ago,’ Finwald hastened on, ‘this same terrible demigod held sway over the whole of the Far North, threatening to infect our entire world with the plague of his Evil. It was only a timely and unprecedented league of Peladanes, Oghain-Yddiaw, mercenaries of Vregh-Nahov and others that finally cut out that abominable cyst and hurled it onto the triumphal bonfires of Justice. His land was invaded, his fortress besieged, and he, together with all his vile minions, was thrown down. Not one soldier or necromancer of the Maw was left alive, and the entire accursed place was purged of Evil.’
He paused for breath, then continued quickly. ‘However, the sword of Arturus Bloodnose did not eliminate forever the name of Drauglir. Such dire entities have a knack of hanging on, and even now there persists the legend that one day Drauglir would rise again, after five hundred years. Just about now, in fact.’
Another nervous pause. ‘As anyone in Nordwas can tell you, I myself possess an exceptional skill in theurgy – meaning I can contact the spirits to request their advice. I do not boast in saying this; I simply tell the truth, as many will gladly verify. Over recent months I have been in contact with my deity, and he has revealed many things. So it is my woeful duty to vaticinate to you all today, my friends, that the legends concerning Drauglir’s second coming are true. He will be among us again before the year is out !’
There was a moment’s silence, then the entire hall erupted in raucous laughter. There were also angry shouts, and at one point a throwing axe thudded into the table in
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