From the Dust: The Rise of Lord Kass by too_kule |  |
Note: This story is an invention of my own, and is not intended to match
the Gallery of Evil entry for Lord Kass. The portions before and after the flashback
takes place soon before the first wave waged war upon Meridell.
The Grundo, standing quite stout with his Darigan colouring,
swept in from the antechamber with his head stiffly bowed. The throne room was
adorned with blood red banners, each declaring a victory for the Citadel. Overhead
was the most recent banner, the countenance of Lord Kass stitched into it with
black.
The hand servant shuffled across the worn carpet,
trying with obvious care not to on the hem. Drumming his paw against the armrest
of his throne, the infamous Lord Kass, overseer of the stone Citadel that soared
above the plains of Meridell, watched as his servant gracelessly crossed the
carpet. In his shaking hands was tray carrying a pewter goblet. Bumbling
half wit, Lord Kass thought, watching the tray shake violently. "Come now,
I've other matters to attend to, aside from watching you spill my drink!" Kass
barked, causing the Grundo to leap slightly off of the ground, the tray swaying
even more. The servant bounded across the last few feet, hastily presenting
the Eyrie with his drink.
Bringing the goblet of spiced wine to his beak,
Kass closed his eyes. A hectic evening followed by a hectic morning, soon to
be followed by another hectic night. The lord's armies, currently situated beneath
the Citadel, awaited his command to march.
"So," Lord Kass said to the retreating Grundo,
forcing him into an abrupt halt. "Have you any news of the reconstruction of
the dungeons? Or the whereabouts of the escaped prisoners?"
The Grundo stuttered out of response, barely
reaching Kass, saying, "No, sir... I mean I don't know, sir, we might... might
have news, I mean, sir. About the dungeons. And the prisoners." He swallowed
under the Eyrie's gaze. "I don't know, sir."
Kass scowled. "Then fetch Ditri, you fool! Perhaps
she has the brains to follow what happens before her very own eyes." The Grundo,
clearly not wanting to stay one unnecessary moment with Lord Kass, fled through
the room to the antechamber, tripping over the carpet's hem as he went.
The Eyrie closed his eyes again, once more bringing
the goblet to his beak. Fools who can't be trusted to perform simple tasks,
he thought with a frown. These are the best Darigan could find to follow
him? Of course, he had to remind himself, he hadn't put forth any other
efforts to find other followers. His rise had been an unsteady one, and the
help he could assemble was vital.
Sighing, Kass cast around his memories, returning
to his rise to the throne of the Citadel of Darigan...
***
"Troops, fall in!" bellowed a voice from the front of the throng. The soldiers,
decked in gleaming silver armour, half heartedly scrambled to organize themselves
into their lines. With relaxed grins, the troops awaited their commands, spinning
their pikes around in their hands and awkwardly slashing their blades through
the air. The lack of training was evident.
The Skeith stood, watching the queues, stroking
his unshaven face. King Skarl, the first ruler of Meridell, assessed the crowd
of soldiers. They spoke, not bothering to watch their tone or choice of words,
amongst themselves, and many seemed to be testing their new weapons against
the grass. They were unclean, unkempt, untrained, and lacking any sign of respect
for their king.
"They're excellent!" the king cried out heartily,
his mouth broadening into a wide grin. "With only two days until the swords
are raised, I couldn't have hoped for a better army! Wouldn't you agree, General
Kass?"
The Eyrie to the side of Skarl nodded curtly,
saying, "I'd quite agree, my lord." He stroked his beak with one plumed wing.
The general was tall, young in years, and clearly handsome with his white feathers.
The sword by side was held with experience, as any fool could see. It certainly
was not the first time he had held a blade, and the way he did something as
simple as sheathing it proved so.
If truth be told and this was the truth Kass
did not want to speak he questioned the king's competence. The foolish grin
on the Skeith's face said that he had consumed too much ale during the noontime
feast, and baring an unshaven face was no way to address his troops. For their
unwavering obedience, they required a strict leader, one that could command
their respect. Skarl clearly had not achieved this. Such was proved with the
inattentive glances of the soldiers, and the way they took in not one of the
king's words, save for his merry shout of, "Break, troops!" As the crowd dispersed,
Skarl yelled out, "You'll come back at tomorrow for another practice of falling
into your lines, understood?" Not noticing (or caring, for that matter) whether
or not he was heard, King Skarl waddled his way across the green to the castle's
entrance.
"Ah, my lord?" the white Eyrie said, causing
the king to turn his head. "It is most likely too bold, but I'd like to offer
my advice on your leadership " Or lack thereof, he thought " of the troops."
Scratching his chin, King Skarl turned around
completely, this time, staring the Eyrie straight in his crimson eyes. "I'm
listening, general."
The general nodded. "Well, ah... I feel your
approach to training could possibly be considered, well... a mite lax. I mean,
with the armies at march the morning after next, I fear the troops aren't taking
this seriously enough. A loss would be a terrible thing to suffer, and with
the potential in these soldiers that I truly believe is there, it'd be even
more heartbreaking knowing that it could've been prevented. From dawn to dusk,
these soldiers should be training. So should've been the plan from a fortnight
ago. You've no additional plans for training, aside from the role call tomorrow
morning, correct? We should be preparing for battle from before the sun rises
until shortly after it sets."
Skarl stroked his chin some more, apparently
contemplating what he had just been told. At last, he said, "You are correct,
General Kass. It is too bold." Kass swallowed. "Darigan will be defeated,
no matter how many of these soldiers must be slain! And none will; I guarantee
it. That scourge couldn't have summoned an entire fleet to defeat ours in such
a short time. You watch that beak of yours, or I might have to get Luxem to
teach you otherwise. We agree, then, do we not?"
The thought of what the brawny blacksmith and
unofficial overseer of prisoner discipline could do with only half of his strength
shot shivers down the Eyrie's spine. "My most genuine apologies, my lord."
King Skarl ambled off towards the castle, a rather
smug smile curving across his face.
General Kass scowled, watching the retreating
back of his king. Blinded fool! he shouted inwardly. So Skarl thinks,
though he could assemble an army in such a short time, that it's impossible
for Darigan to? Kass swept across the green, gaining ground on King Skarl.
His black hilted sword was held with both paws, now, and he broke from his brisk
walk into a bolt. His hands shook, though he hardly took notice. His entire
being was focussed on the back of Skarl's head. He brought his sword to a side,
his muscles clenching, his breaths deepening, preparing to deal Skarl a blow
to--
"Good day, General Kass," said a voice to his
left. Kass kept himself from tripping, though just barely, and turned to meet
his greeter. A brown Ixi, complete with a puzzled look, stood aside of him.
Sinsi, longtime friend of the Royal Family of Meridell, paused in mid step to
stare at Kass, who swiftly sheathed his sword. "Training, I suppose?"
"Ah... yes, Lady Sinsi. King Skarl was just about
to defend against my attack, right before you stopped me," Kass replied, rushed.
"He seems to have forgotten about it." The Skeith
disappeared behind one of the castle's looming turrets. "Keep up the training,
General Kass, and all the luck of Meridell to you with the war." Sinsi strode
off in the direction of the Earth Faerie's glade, shaking her head.
A severely stricken Lord Kass, blinded with his
thoughts, stumbled his way up to the castle. What had I been I about to do?
The blow wouldn't have been anything fatal to the king, he was sure, but with
Sinsi just beside him and others possibly looking down from windows and arrow
holes, and more who could've seen the entire sequence from the other side of
the plain, he was mad to consider doing something like that. How could he have
been so foolish to attempt something like that in public?
He paused in his thoughts. In public?
What was the matter with him? He was about to attack the king, an offence that
could've resulted in him being confined to the dungeons for the rest of his
existence. Or something even more morbid. He flinched, thoughts of Luxem arising.
It shouldn't have mattered whether or not he was in public he was loyal to Meridell.
Though not so to Skarl, he thought.
King Skarl was not a fit ruler of Meridell, he
knew. The notion had not to do with power or envy. The Eyrie knew he would never
want to rule Meridell his passion was in leading battles, not ruling kingdoms.
Yet, he knew if Skarl was not king, the doomed battle would never happen. Kass
didn't want to lead this fight.
Shaken from his thoughts, Kass suddenly realized
where he was. The General's quarters. He was back in his room. Unbuckling the
scabbard from his belt, Kass collapsed into bed. Meridell was doomed to lose
before the war had begun.
***
Twice the sun had set, and twice it had risen again. The day passed in what
would seem like no time at all. No sooner had the troops awoken for their training
than darkness came and they were forced to their quarters, sent to rest for
the day ahead.
When the day of the march had arrived, it seemed
that it had finally set into the soldiers' minds: they were to do battle against
the opposing evil. Their faces pallid, their bodies shaking, they followed the
steps of General Kass's lead across the plain. They were met, about thirty minutes
after the march had commenced, with a fleet of ravenous Drackonacks and black
armoured soldiers.
The swords clashed and the pikes met. War cries
from each army suffused the green. The two forces sparred one another, making
so no mite of energy was unused. The shadows crept across the green, leaving
that as the only mark of time's passing. They fought well into the night, and
all across Meridell. After several hours had come and gone, the waves had spread
out, not stopping until the entire countryside was filled with the sound of
metal.
We're winning. It was the only thought
that kept General Kass on his feet, still waving his sword. He cut past a duo
of Darigan's soldiers, completely unaware of where he was. The night had come
so quickly, and the stars' feeble glow wasn't enough to keep the battlefield
lit. It was evident, by the slimming number of Darigan's troops, that Meridell
would be victorious. In this battle, at least.
He paused, suddenly realizing where he was. The
Dark Plain. Sure enough, through squinting eyes, the Eyrie could see the massive
Citadel hovering directly over the stone canyon where he stood.
And out of the darkness, past the columns of
darkened stone, a sight met him. A figure in the shadows crept up to Kass, who
held his sword forbearingly. "Salutations," the character said simply. By the
sound of the voice, this pet was elderly.
The white-feathered Eyrie grimaced. "Be warned.
I am armed, and I will not hesitate in defending myself if need be."
The hidden pet snickered. "I will not harm you.
I am a mere soothsayer, a seer of the future. I can see what is happening but
seconds from now, from just paces west or to the border of the country, and
what will happen after the fall of many moons. Would you like to see, Lord Kass?"
"I've not the time for your trickery! I am General
Kass, leader of the Meridellian army. I am no lord."
"Of course you aren't. Not yet. I see many things
for you, Eyrie, and for your land. Meridell will win this battle, but will not
be victorious in the war. The blame will fall solely on you, since it was you
who gallantly led the soldiers into battle. You'll receive a conviction, but
you'll shortly escape from your shackles. You'll be ruined. Fleeing away from
Meridell, you will venture into the Plain of Darkness, remembering something
that a mad old soothsayer once said to you during your efforts in the war."
The figure, a Darigan coloured Draik, stepped into view. His eyes were pale,
and lacking any sign of energy or life. "I will now tell you that message: An
unfathomable supply of soldiers lies in the Dark Plain, many of which will remain
after Darigan's fall. They'll be loyal to the first one who steps up as a true
lord, one who will direct and guide them through their hardships. Remember that,
Eyrie."
General Kass stared, his beak open in a mixture
of awe and confusion. He cast around his mind for something to say, but came
up with nothing. At last, he made for speech, but cry for help in the distance
interrupted him. One of his soldiers was in need of aid. Pushing the soothsayer
out of his mind, Kass made a break to where he was needed.
***
And as the Draik had said, it all unwound like that. Darigan was victorious;
the Eyrie was to be punished; Darigan had been overthrown, leaving confusion
throughout his domain; Kass fled to the Plain of Darkness, soon after recalling
what he had been told. The dark magic of the plain had affected him over the
many months he had spent there. His white plumes changed in colour, becoming
a twisted purple. And as it had been predicted, he had rallied an army, one
of a remarkable size.
"Soon they will march," Lord Kass said from his
throne, sipping back the last of his drink. The doors to the throne room opened,
and the lord's attendant strode in.
The Darigan Uni bowed, her dark locks touching
the carpet. "I bring the news you sought, my lord."
"Excellent, Ditri," the Eyrie said in a brooding
tone, breaking away from his memories. The past was behind him, and it was time
to focus on the task at hand. "You will tell me all you know, and leave out
not one detail."
The End
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