Shaddar awakens and it takes just a moment to review the events of yesterday. Happy thoughts enough, but he is eager to find out what his minions have accomplished during the night as per his orders.
So many plans were set into motion last night…
Masaxle’s unveiling of the drow artwork was inspiring.
“Behold the glory of our race!” the crazed artisan had yelled as a group of about 300 stonemasons, students and apprentices had seen his workshop. The silence of the gawking drow caused Shaddar’s tentacles jerk and writhe in pleasure.
“It speaks to you, does it not, my children?” Shaddar whispered into the quiet room. A gentle reminder that their new-found passions and freedoms were linked directly to him. Excellent. Excellent.
The drow workers had moved swiftly after that – following the hoarse directions screamed at them by Masaxle. Their plan was to place this artwork everywhere in the border zone. Not very many humans travel the border zone at night normally, but with all the uncertainty in the city population it is highly likely that the area of the artisans work would have been deserted. If not – hobgoblins were sent to eliminate anyone foolish enough to traverse his part of the city during the night.
“I think that several patrols of brave – but stupid – constables will missed this morning in their homes and barracks,” Shaddar thinks while wiping a bit of ooze from his tentacles. “And what will the reaction be of the humans be when they see that the border zone is now quite ‘unfriendly’ in appearance? What will the reaction of the knights and lords be?” Shaddar chuckles evilly to himself as he ponders such enjoyable futures-probable.
The two slaves who went insane were set to doing their work both verbally and in painting their lunatic warnings on every flat surface that they can find – one near the streets & one near the slums. To insure that their tasks would be completed as Shaddar desires, several shadowy drow and bulky hobgoblins were tasked with watching that the authorities did not stop their important work and to keep the madmen well stocked in paint. The guards seemed quite pleased by his final command to them: “Witnesses of the production of the madmens’ insane screed are entirely optional.”
Kug was busily organizing the raid upon the hobgoblin festival when Shaddar passed by late in the evening. “Soon both of the slave races will be under my control,” Shaddar thinks with glee. “Let us see how well these weak and unskilled humans fare at providing for their own needs!” He sniffs with disdain at the thought. As if. More likely he will have to task a very large portion of his forces to carting off the bloated bodies of those humans who starve to death.
Not a problem, though. The numbers who wish to join in his army are quite large and he needs to arm them. Hawke was commanded to lean on blacksmiths in the slums to acquire some initial arms. Long-term, the drow craftsmen will build their own. Masaxle expressed interest in helping with these designs. The Scalehunters will have special weapons built for them – dual-bladed swords.
“Yes. Yes, all of those mundane matters are being seen to,” Shaddar thinks with satisfaction.
Shaddar expects that the chief drow assassin, Barrityl, will be much more useful than the last surviving drow elder. Yanivlitan’s pathetic attempts at organizing ‘subtle’ plots is quite diverting. Never has Shaddar heard of such naivete among the drow!
“Perhaps this is why proper drow are lead by the female of their kind? Strange, these sub-sentient races are…”
All in all - a fine end to a very productive day!
“The dark winds of change blow strongly today! No gentle zephyr this – oh no! ‘Tis more like a gale!” Shaddar barks with a wet laugh.
He taps one tentacle against his forehead in thought. No word as yet as to the fruit of these machinations, but that happy news will come soon enough. What mighty and terrible works should he undertake this fresh new day?
“Ah-ha!”
From stray thoughts Shaddar picked up from the drow elder yesterday, he knows that eventually someone in authority from the city will come down to find out why the drow have suddenly abandoned their assigned duties. Shaddar wonders in what form this will come. A simple missive? Or a personal representative of some kind? Yes. More likely in person. But will it be a simple knight or one of the higher orders that bring word of the anger of the erstwhile masters of the city wondering what has happened to their slaves?
“Ah! Perhaps someone of even greater political importance than a knight? Hmm… I must prepare a suitable… reception for these coming guests…”
Chapter 1 < Chapter 57
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