The Wild King Arc 1 Part 4
The Wild King
Arc 1
Part 4
A Little Wyvern Told Me
Author; Drustan Leo Alvarez
Last Night.
The Foothills, in The Camp of The 4th Division of The Legion of General Necrosius.
Goblins, HobGoblins, Ghouls, and Undead Skeleton Soldiers, walk about while setting up for the night in the pouring rain. They take part in idle chat around fires under large tarp shelters covering the fire, while smoke puffs out from under them into the stormy night sky.
A Male HobGoblin in leather armor and steel plate walks towards the 4th Division Captian's tent. He is The Wyvern Riders Vice Captain Rhoc.
As he enters he see's The 4th Divisions, Captains, Vice Captains, and The 4th Division's Commander a Ghoul called Scrundil, as well as more representatives from the other Divisions. They all stand around a large war table while Scrundil is hunched over the table at the opposite end, point at a spot on a map, speaking with The 4th Division Scout Captian.
As Rhoc enter he catches the last few words.
Scrundil, "And you sent scouts? Good, let me know as soon as you know anything. Alright next on The Agenda.."
Scrundil Lift his head to see Rhoc entering, and stops in mid sentence scowling at him then makes a sadistic smile.
Scrundil, "Rhoc... Nice of you to show up, what you couldn't be bothered showing up on time?"
Rhoc, "Commander Scrundil, you know full well this war meeting wasn't supposed to start till sunrise. Yet I see it's still night out, and your men are still making camp, well away from the designated area... Are you trying, to make a mockery of The Great Warlock, and General Thron's personally picked representative?"
Rhoc finishes with an angry yet pleased sly look in his eyes.
Scrundil yells angrily, "You know very well your just his little pet, you filthy butt scratching Goblin!"
Rhoc growls, "Mind your tongue... (He Glares with killing intent.) I am not just a goblin, I am an Hobgoblin Dark Sorcerer who rides a Wyvern, and not only that but I am the representative of an entire legion!!! Under the direct command of General Thron!!!"
Scrundil angrily replies, "Get out Of Here Before I Have My Soldiers Execute You!!! You Stupid Goblin!!!"
Rhoc replies, "As if they could!!"
He storms out of the tent into the still pouring rain, fully aware the repercussions of executing the Division Commander of another legion, and the trouble it would cause his patron, General Thron.
Earth and soil start exploding at the inner edge of camp, while the rain continues to pour, thus making the ground beneath them begin to give way and become a landslide.
Shouts of panic and calls to arms give way, as soldiers and beasts run and scatter.
Rhoc looks around for the enemy but can't see anything past the chaos, of fire, panic, and explosions, among the ever faster ground, becoming a landslide.
He runs for his Wyvern through the soldiers ready for battle, and the panicking soldiers and beasts, all getting swept up in the landslide.
With the landslide quickly following him, and explosions of earth, mud, and soil still going off, he runs toward the outer edge of the camp where is Wyvern is.
He finally reaches the edge, where his Wyvern is still loyally waiting for him. he hops on his wyvern and they take off toward the sky, just as the ground underneath where they were gives way to the landslide.
As soon as they are in the air he casts, a spell to cloak them in darkness, so they won't be spotted in the night sky.
As he looks back at the now leveled, buried, and flooded camp, he smiles a wide grin distorted by his large toothy underlapping jaw. A satisfied look shining in his eyes.
As he enters he see's The 4th Divisions, Captains, Vice Captains, and The 4th Division's Commander a Ghoul called Scrundil, as well as more representatives from the other Divisions. They all stand around a large war table while Scrundil is hunched over the table at the opposite end, point at a spot on a map, speaking with The 4th Division Scout Captian.
As Rhoc enter he catches the last few words.
Scrundil, "And you sent scouts? Good, let me know as soon as you know anything. Alright next on The Agenda.."
Scrundil Lift his head to see Rhoc entering, and stops in mid sentence scowling at him then makes a sadistic smile.
Scrundil, "Rhoc... Nice of you to show up, what you couldn't be bothered showing up on time?"
Rhoc, "Commander Scrundil, you know full well this war meeting wasn't supposed to start till sunrise. Yet I see it's still night out, and your men are still making camp, well away from the designated area... Are you trying, to make a mockery of The Great Warlock, and General Thron's personally picked representative?"
Rhoc finishes with an angry yet pleased sly look in his eyes.
Scrundil yells angrily, "You know very well your just his little pet, you filthy butt scratching Goblin!"
Rhoc growls, "Mind your tongue... (He Glares with killing intent.) I am not just a goblin, I am an Hobgoblin Dark Sorcerer who rides a Wyvern, and not only that but I am the representative of an entire legion!!! Under the direct command of General Thron!!!"
Scrundil angrily replies, "Get out Of Here Before I Have My Soldiers Execute You!!! You Stupid Goblin!!!"
Rhoc replies, "As if they could!!"
He storms out of the tent into the still pouring rain, fully aware the repercussions of executing the Division Commander of another legion, and the trouble it would cause his patron, General Thron.
Earth and soil start exploding at the inner edge of camp, while the rain continues to pour, thus making the ground beneath them begin to give way and become a landslide.
Shouts of panic and calls to arms give way, as soldiers and beasts run and scatter.
Rhoc looks around for the enemy but can't see anything past the chaos, of fire, panic, and explosions, among the ever faster ground, becoming a landslide.
He runs for his Wyvern through the soldiers ready for battle, and the panicking soldiers and beasts, all getting swept up in the landslide.
With the landslide quickly following him, and explosions of earth, mud, and soil still going off, he runs toward the outer edge of the camp where is Wyvern is.
He finally reaches the edge, where his Wyvern is still loyally waiting for him. he hops on his wyvern and they take off toward the sky, just as the ground underneath where they were gives way to the landslide.
As soon as they are in the air he casts, a spell to cloak them in darkness, so they won't be spotted in the night sky.
As he looks back at the now leveled, buried, and flooded camp, he smiles a wide grin distorted by his large toothy underlapping jaw. A satisfied look shining in his eyes.
A Few Hours Later
The Sun has risen still just barely touching the horizon. Green human looking beings with pointed ears, golden cat like eyes, dark black full hair, and beards, with very large bottom canines poking out their mouths, walk around the outside of the large fort Gran Fo.
They are The High Goblins guarding the fort Gran Fo, of Gran Fo Stato, while a large dark purple dragon sleeps its body, and tail wrapped around the town walls.
The outline of a Wyvern appears on the horizon, as a High Goblin in light steel plate mail holding a pike, squints at the silhouette on the horizon, as the silhoutte quickly gets bigger.
The High Goblin Gaurd's Eyes get bigger, as the silhouette keeps getting bigger and bigger, until the Wyvern and it's HobGoblin Rider are in full view.
High Goblin Gaurd yells to the other High Goblins, "Hurry Go Get The Overseer, this looks important."
Immediately afterward the Wyvern lands on the landing platform mounted on Gran Fo's Wall, in front of the High Goblin Guard. The HobGoblin clumsily slides on the Wyvern, and stumbles on to his feet, while gripping the side of his saddle. He tries to walk forward but is heavily exhausted, and almost falls before the Gaurd rushes to catch him.
The High Goblin Guard helps up the HobGoblin as he tries to speak.
Rhoc, "The.. Huhhh.. Huhh.. The 4th..."
High Goblin Guard, "The 4th what."
Rhoc, "The 4th Division... Has been, has been... wiped out." He collapses from exhaustion, dehydration, and anemia."
High Goblin Gaurd yells to the other High Goblins, "Hurry Go Get The Overseer, this looks important."
Immediately afterward the Wyvern lands on the landing platform mounted on Gran Fo's Wall, in front of the High Goblin Guard. The HobGoblin clumsily slides on the Wyvern, and stumbles on to his feet, while gripping the side of his saddle. He tries to walk forward but is heavily exhausted, and almost falls before the Gaurd rushes to catch him.
The High Goblin Guard helps up the HobGoblin as he tries to speak.
Rhoc, "The.. Huhhh.. Huhh.. The 4th..."
High Goblin Guard, "The 4th what."
Rhoc, "The 4th Division... Has been, has been... wiped out." He collapses from exhaustion, dehydration, and anemia."
The High Goblin Guard catches him again, and calls, "Hurry up, and Get The ####in Overseer."
Later That Day
The Elder Wizard, Ekrin, sits on his throne, his olive skin, his soft, full, black hair shining from the light from the windows on each side of the room. His blue cobalt eyes, narrow as he scans his Vassals bowing before him. His black, purple and blue robes shifts as he strokes his chin's non existent facial hair.
His Vassal on the left a Half Dead, the highest race of undead unachievable by all other undead, so high as an undead race, they are half alive, and even possess the ability to grow. However, they do not age past thirty.
This particular Half Dead is the General of one of Ekrin's Legion's, Necrosius.
His black hair slicked back, against his pale warm skin, his irises glowing red as blood.
He continues to plan his erotic future as he bows.
His Vassal in the middle is a Wolfborn, the race that rules over Werewolves, Lycans, and Wolves alike. They possess, all the abilities of a werewolf x 8, along with dark magic, and other powers as well. However, they only have one form and do not possess the ability to transform.
This Wolfborn is also the General of one of Ekrins Legion's, Lunorves.
His black hair wild, and spiky overlapping his tan skin. His pupils dilate against his Silver Irises as they glow.
He bows as he thinks about dinner.
His Vassal on the right a Genius Warlock, a race descended from Dark Wizards, who became twisted and warped by dark magic. In short, they are very ugly.
This Warlock is a renown genius, and a General of one of Ekrins Legion's as well, His name, Thron.
His dark grey hair hanging over his pale suprisingly handsome face, his eyes giving off a faintly black energy.
He Bows as he plans to overthrow Emporer Ekrin when the time is right.
A messenger rushes into the room, as he breathes heavily and stops at the Ekrin's right side, and hands him a scroll.
Thron yells at the messenger, "What do you think you are doing we his Majesty's Vassals are currently"
Ekrin looks at Thron implying him to stop.
Ekrin Reads....
Thron asks, "W.. What is it, your Majesty?'
His Vassal on the left a Half Dead, the highest race of undead unachievable by all other undead, so high as an undead race, they are half alive, and even possess the ability to grow. However, they do not age past thirty.
This particular Half Dead is the General of one of Ekrin's Legion's, Necrosius.
His black hair slicked back, against his pale warm skin, his irises glowing red as blood.
He continues to plan his erotic future as he bows.
His Vassal in the middle is a Wolfborn, the race that rules over Werewolves, Lycans, and Wolves alike. They possess, all the abilities of a werewolf x 8, along with dark magic, and other powers as well. However, they only have one form and do not possess the ability to transform.
This Wolfborn is also the General of one of Ekrins Legion's, Lunorves.
His black hair wild, and spiky overlapping his tan skin. His pupils dilate against his Silver Irises as they glow.
He bows as he thinks about dinner.
His Vassal on the right a Genius Warlock, a race descended from Dark Wizards, who became twisted and warped by dark magic. In short, they are very ugly.
This Warlock is a renown genius, and a General of one of Ekrins Legion's as well, His name, Thron.
His dark grey hair hanging over his pale suprisingly handsome face, his eyes giving off a faintly black energy.
He Bows as he plans to overthrow Emporer Ekrin when the time is right.
A messenger rushes into the room, as he breathes heavily and stops at the Ekrin's right side, and hands him a scroll.
Thron yells at the messenger, "What do you think you are doing we his Majesty's Vassals are currently"
Ekrin looks at Thron implying him to stop.
Ekrin Reads....
Thron asks, "W.. What is it, your Majesty?'
Ekrin replies after closing the scroll, "The 4th Division, of Necrosius's Legion, has been wiped out."
Necrosius says, "What!!!"
Thron, "By Who?"
Lunorves, "Shall we destroy them Mi Lord!"
Emporer Ekrin The Elder Wizard replies, "No. I Shall deal with them personally."
He dawns a sadistic grin.
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