Crimson Talon - An Uruk Dominion tale

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

Chapter Twenty




'When Uruks stop fighting, they're dead. Or most likely drunk.'
-Toke One-Eye

The sun's light bounced off the Crimson Prince. Everyone gathered in the courtyard of Castle Dracule, small folk and high born alike, taking part of the Summer Solstice Traditional Festival with its fairs and jousting competitions. Winged hussars of the Grand Duke's Guard competed for the crowd's attention, in mock charges and duels. All these festivities were meant to keep the evil spirits away.
Foolish mortals, it is I you should be fearing, not witches and ghosts! Grand Duke Vlad, founder of the Dynasty, once said.
Among the participants, the favorite of the people, was Elek, the Duke's own son.
'Look papa!' cried the future heir. 'I'm almost as good as you!'
The Grand Duke looked on, smiling, as his son circled the courtyard on top of a giant black steed.
Last of his kind, Chroscizko Dracule was pleased with Elek's performance at the games and, being proud of his heritage, he made sure that his son attended all of his training sessions. The Dukes of Translavia were warriors first and kings, second.
Rows upon rows of Vladniks, shinning in their heavy armor were guarding the crowds of serfs and peasants. The military reforms of Duke Vlad brought a fresh perspective to the translavian army, developing the cavalry and including gunpowder specialists into the ranks.
'Your Highness...'
The servant was a mere shadow at his master's side.
'What is it now, Novak?'
Chroscizko's voice was like the breath of an old cript. Cold yet menacing. The old soldier was already twisting and breaking his hands, shaking.
'The horses, master... They are spooked. Something...something is amiss.'
'The Duke's dark eyes shifted towards the parapets. There was no signs of warning from the sentinels. His loyal servant was paranoid as usual.
'Novak, it will be my axe that will be amiss in your head if you don't end these foolish...'
He did not finish his sentence. There was a monk in the first row. Suspisciously large for a man of the cloth, thought Chroscizko Dracule.
The strange character was dwarfing even the tallest Poborowy cossack. There was too much muscle underneath that cloak.
And there's more of them.
Chroscizko's eyes scanned the cheering masses. More suspicious monks, each of considerable size, dotted the crowd, like crows on a snowfield.
He heard rumours of black beasts wagging war in the southern states, but he never expected they would come this close.
'Get me that monk!' the Duke yelled to his soldiers.

*

Kubadai Achilleus revealed himself and roared at the Translavians. His Bodyguards did the same thing, showing off their axe-swords. The serfs pulled back, in horror. This bought them time, so he grabbed another scimitar, from a fellow Uruk's hand. Cries of 'Diavoli! Diavoli!' filled the streets. Double-wielding the blades, Achilleus bellowed:
'Come on, who's first?!'
A giant monster of a man, the pride of his Regiment, answered the call. Achilleus was hardly worried. The raid was a success.
They've caught the Grand Duke and his lackeys unawares.
Soon, this castle will be crawling with our brethren!
He parried the Poborowy's first blow, his sword-axe oozing sparks as it glanced off the haleberd's spike, then he struck with his second scimitar, slicing the human's leg clean off from his knee. Kubadai Achilleus did not stop to linger on his victory, he jumped over the yelling cossack and moved on to another target. More Poborowys were blocking his way, spears extended like a hedgehog's teeth.
Achilleus grabbed three spears and pulled the soldiers out of the rank and file, slaughtering them as they went down.
He turned to see what his soldiers were doing. Most of the grunts were busy hacking away at the defeated slavian champion. His skull was a maze of gashes and wounds.
'Enough! There's no time for that!' Achilleus intervened.' Get to the gates! Open the gates!'
Aventuros mercenaries were already climbing off the walls to join the fray. Free Company Musketeers were unloading salvos on the Duke's heavy hussars. He saw with great pleasure how the proud knights fell.
The Aventuros countered enemy spearmen, securing the flanks of his Bodyguards. The burly Uruks were slashing and stabbing enemies, as they were taught in school to do.
This is going well, Achilleus said to himself. He yanked another spear from a trembling peasant's hand.
'Rich spoils ahead, boys!' he roared. 'Best not get yourselves killed!'
*

'How could you wretches allow this to happen?!'
The Grand Duke was cursing his people. His pale mare, Eudochia, was shot under him.
'Get me another horse!' the Duke demanded.
He was furious because his subjects were a weak, backward and superstitious lot. And most of all, because they allowed enemy soldiers to creep inside his family's castle.
Chroscizko noticed how the black monsters moved on the walls, dueling with the palace guards. His conscripts were being slaughtered in droves.
Hungry serfs are no match for these beasts of war! he realized. If we linger on the walls too much, they will grind away my entire army...
'Summon the Blood Knights!' he ordered to his trusty servant.
'But sire...' Novak continued. 'It is daytime. They are sleeping in their cripts!'
'Blasted vampires! What good are they to me now?!'
The Duke continued to throw curses in the wind. He mounted his fresh, new horse.
'Well. wake them up! Tell them that if they don't show their faces now, I'm banishing them from this castle!'
Just as well, there won't be any fresh maidens left, if the castle falls.
Novak kept his head low, the master was known for beheading servants in his rage. The Dukes's Bodyguards were already assembled in the plaza, their wings shinning white and pure in the sun. The best of the best, they will keep the enemy out, Novak was sure of it.
'Who is it this time? Vashtas? Estnayas? Bandity? ' Elek enquired.
''Neither, your Grace.', Svobod the Duke's second-in-command answered. 'It is the black devils of Demos.'
'Good.' Elek Dracule smiled, licking his lips. ' I've longed for Uruk blood for quite some time.'

*

'And if they get us in the open, their knights will end us.' Achilleus informed his second-in-command. 'Tell the boys to hurry and get them out of the ditches!'
Rula gave a nod and ran away, barking orders.
We relish in tight places. Achilleus knew that the cramped space on the walls was working in the advantage of his Uruks. He hoped that the Duke would throw his best infantry into the fight.
Grind them to dust. We don't have much time on our hands.
The Uruk general looked at the sky. The sun was still there.

*

'Get my son to safety!' Chroscizko pleaded.
'But my lord, he's a grown man!' Svobod insisted. 'The men love him! It will be a terrible blow for morale if we hide him now.'
The Grand Duke pressed his sword against his aide's neck.
'You want to feed the Dragon or listen to its call?'
The Hussar swallowed. The Fang of the Dragon, ancient sword of the Dracules, sharper than any steel weapon in the land, was at his neck. It was considered an honor to end up beheaded by it. But Svobod preffered to live.
'It will be done as you command.'
Elek's cries echoed above the battle.
'Why, father, why shame me so?!'
The Grand Duke did not deemed his son with an answer. He concentrated on the melee in front of him.
They're in the streets. Pretty soon, they'll be inside the houses. I have to stem the flow.'
'Send in the Vladniks!'
The castle's garrison. Final cannon-fodder.
The Uruks brought cannons inside the castle. He could hear them clearly now. They are bombarding the main square.
Chroscizko Dracule turned to his Bodyguards.
'Give them steel! No step back! For Translavia!'
'FOR DRACULE!'
Cry came out of a thousand chests. Spears extended, the hussars charged home.

*

'HERE THEY COME! BRACE YOURSELVES!' the General cried.
Grunts reacted, tucking their heads between their shoulders, rising their massive shields up to their faces. Achilleus was proud of withnessing such masterful manoveuring.
'Come on, boys! We're not called Masters of the World for nothing!'

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

Chapter Twenty One




'I do not care if they're a hundred or two thousand.
I only need you to tell me when to stop killing.'
-Toke One-Eye, as a fresh recruit




Primeiro Menendus stood in the antechamber, waiting to be called in. His former enemy was taking his sweet time. Menendus did not mind the wait. Last descendant of the valiant De Sousa, he had seen many of his friends and relatives die, in the wars against the outlanders. It had made him aware of the commonality between all human beings. He had time to wait.
Finally, a boy, lavishly dressed, no more than five-and-ten years of age approached him. His steps echoed in the marble hall.
'My father will see you now.'
Menendus gave him a nod. He spoke the foreigners tongue well enough to sense the superiority in the lad's voice. These Valientes never learn...They still think they are on top of the world.
'What is your name, boy?'
The lad blinked, caught by surprise. He did not expect a barbarian to speak his language.
'Augusto Gonzales Diego de Valiente.' the boy pattered. ' You will address my father as Your Royal Highness. Or my Lord, if you so wish.'
The Primeiro smiled.
'I will name him my lord when he'll be able to walk on water or fly into the sky.'
The boy frowned.
'You should take off your helmet as well.'
The large, oaken doors creaked, opening wide and slow. Menendus turned to the boy, startling him.
'We're barbarians. We don't bathe and we never take our helmets off! Didn't your father tell you that?'
The Primeiro walked away, smiling, leaving behind a very confused youngster.

'Ah, my friend! Come in!'
Secundo Carlos was nothing like his son. Where the boy was pale, he was dusky, where the boy was frail, he was robust. You could hardly say they were related at all if it wasn't for their eyes. They shared the same obnoxious gaze.
'What brings you to our humble court?' the Prince continued, his voice as soft as silk.
'Ill tidings, my... prince.'
The word left Menendus' mouth with difficulty. The Hispanics were used to calling no man master.
'The Uruks are on the move again.'
'Is that so?' The Valiente fondled his black stubble. 'My spies assured me they've just landed. It will be weeks before they get here. Months even.'
His false pensive air did not fool Menendus. This man is a serpent. He'll sell us out the first chance he gets.
'They are here!'
The Primeiro's shout echoed in the large chamber. He hit his staff on the shinny marble floor.
'How long must you wait before they are at your gates?'
The Secundo rose a raven eyebrow.
'Have you proof?'
'Here!' Menendus threw the thing he was hiding underneath his cloak all this time. The hideous head rolled on the floor, yellow eyes staring blankly into the prince's face.
'Proof enough for ya?'
Carlos fought back a gag reflex. The thing smelled all the way up to his throne.
'Where... where did you get that?'
It was an Uruk scout, no doubt. Its jaws were massive, but its skull was still small. An infant compared to their elites.
'I got it...' Menendus grinned, relishing the fear his price has caused '...from my city's gates.'
Secundo Carlos rose to his feet.
'That's impossible!'
Arandorf.
Last city of the Hispanics, final fortress of De Sousa's people.
A white heathen stain on the map, trapped between the Faustian and the Valiente kingdoms.
If they're so close, we're next! thought Carlos de Valiente.
'Gather your men, prince.' the Primeiro added. 'Make provisions. For this winter will be long.
And the beastmen are coming.'

*

After they were finished, Branwen caressed the bare chest of her lover. Eothese Ragnvald, native of Verstov on his mother's side, woke up and stared into her eyes. He was, by far, the best looking Uruk on the island.
'What is thy bidding, my Queen?'
'Time to take care of some rats trapped on a beach. '
In her voice purred the sweet sound of vengeance. He knew what she meant.
'It's due time those Teutons feel my wrath.'
Ragnvald approved.
'Aye, we've waited long enough for those dogs to leave. And still, their banners fly high.'
The Queen left the warm safety of her bed and strolled down to the window, just as how her gods made her. She watched the Uruk Guards training in the courtyard below, their human helpers dwarfed by their presence. There weren't many Uruks left on Verstov.
Infused by the queen's hate, most of the brothers have gone on to fight in the Teutonic homeland of Europa. Some even took ship towards the distant island of Avalon, home of the hated arthurians. She wondered what would happened in the case of an unexpected enemy landing.
With her brother gone to the Emerald Isle, things began to look pretty grim. Who is left to protect me?
Her second-in-command was putting up a brave show, as he dressed. Eothese would be forced to rely on the local Bandity and Valach mercenaries for this punitive expedition. She was well aware of how Uruk commanders felt about humans. Ragnvald did not protest against her order, even though he feared that they might prove too weak for the task.
'I will bring you his head!' the beastman promised her.
The Queen watched him descend the stairs, his broad back eclipsing the sunlight coming from the rooftop.
I hope you will, for your sake.

*

Philipp von Austria was washing his hands and face when the signal for attack was heard. It wasn't the noble song of Teutonic trumpets, it was the low, wild bellow of the Uruk warhorn.
The sound he'd waited all this time.
'Grab your things!' he told Helga, his outlander mistress of Valhallan origins. 'They're here.'
She listened, her tall figure vanishing from his tent as fast as she first appeared, one summer evening.
The First Councilor smiled, remembering better days when she'd helped him in and out of his armor. Now all of that was left was for him to die for his country. Her long, blond hair was still in his mind as he unsheathed his longsword and walked out.
Outside, the camp followers were screaming, all of them slower than Helga at discerning the danger they were in. Knights brushed the women aside and were busy mouting their horses. White lances rose up in defiance and white cloaks carrying the holy sign of the Cross, flapped into the wind.
Like angel wings.
He wondered what Kurt von Freiburg was doing, back home. They haven't talked since the landing on Verstov.Kurt was sent home on urgent business, the Grand Marshall wanting Philipp to observe how things evolved on the island between the Draculi and the Dominion creatures.
It went south for the slavians, faster than Philipp could've presumed it would. Now the monsters were attacking his camp, fighting a war against the Holy Order in earnest.
News of Uruks landing on Europa did not worry him. The First Councilor was stone faced in front of adversity, his troops knew this all too well. But this was only because he placed his faith in God above all else.
'Now, my brothers! For Eden and the Cross!'
He slapped his visor on and hit his horse with his spurs. Now is the time for righteous bloodshed!
His horse was shot under him, before he could reach the enemy lines. The smell of gunpowder filled the morning air as hideous monsters swarmed onto them from the forest.
This is a bad day, thought Philipp, before being knocked down by a large Verstovian Uruk, one of the last left on the island.


Teuton at the First Battle of Wolfsburg

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

Chapter Twenty Two




'Across the Sea of Torments we sailed, into a new horizon.'
-Travels of Ulon the Unworthy



'Between the mighty Black Mountains, under the cliffs of Fang peak, inside the Valley of Tears and on the shores of river Tybrus, lies the heart of the Dominion: Demos, City of Amber.
Named so after its main merchant trade, the capital of the Uruk Empire retains the charm of its modest origins. Its streets are alive with the hustle and bustle of merchants and slavers, each working their way up the main street towards the Great Market or the Racing Track.
Lacking an arena for gladiatorial matches (as it was the wish of her founder, a former gladiator) the capital offers the graceful traveler a large variety of inns, taverns and brothels, each named after a large battle of some sort.
The people of Demos, a very warlike breed, second only to their neighbours the Spartans, have long took pride in their history. Evidence of their violent past lie everywhere, from the inscriptions on the streets marking the furthest point the Legions ever reached inside the city, to the gruesome spectacle of the Slaughter Shrine, a monument of victory, built from the skulls of fallen foes.
The Sister-Cities provide Demos with a regular supply of slaves and merchandise, Tartarus being the most prominent of all, with its offerings of furs, dyes and of course, amber. This particular element is everywhere.
From the necks of young aristocratic ladies to the gift shops surrounding the main square, you'll find some amber, one way or another. Even the beggars have it, in the form of dust which they drink for good luck.
Every physician in Demos will recommend you a good talisman or an amulet, even some powder, because amber is most prized on the continent of Hadea for its healing qualities.
The city has no fleet, despite the Tybrus running across it. Some say it is because Uruks and Reptarii fear water. Others would simply like to point out that all roads lead to Demos, somehow. But the main port is far away, located beyond the Uncharted Forest, in the south.
There have been rumors of a Naval Drydocks being built there, but with the current wars and campaigns, it's safe to assume that these works will have to wait, for now.
Of all the other Sister-Cities, Mundas is the only one who specializes in common goods, offering coal, copper, iron, timber in exchange for the fossilized tree sap that seems to be on everyone's mind in the capital. The first Sumari settlement to fall under Uruk control, Mundas has always been on the fringe of civilization, the locals frequently finding themselves trapped between the gladiatorial beasts coming from the west and nomadic horsemen raiding from the east.
The Lao Che culture is still strong around these parts and one could trade three healthy slaves for a horse of superior breeding that would last you all the way up to Huang-Chuan.
However, it was in the fortress of Hades that the great Sulla stopped and acknowledged the quality of Hadean wine, founding the first vineyard there, on his way to Constantium. Originally from Demos, the Patriarch of the Dynasty, as he is known among the nobles, appreciated all the good things in life and so, the fortress became a virtual hub for collectors and merchants alike. It sends common goods towards Mundas by sea and Xanatas and Epirus by land. The fortress' strategic location on the Hadean plateau was one of the factors that helped Slavos, ancestor of the Uruk nation,to secure a foothill for his people beyond the mountains for it is said that here, his Ly Kan spies first spotted the main Romuli army advancing from the east and due to the elevated nature of the terrain, were able to sneak out and warn the others in time.
Without Hades, Demos might not even have existed. And the Hadeans take great pride in this, for they consider themselves to be the first and only guardians of the capital, even more so than the people of Demos.
What began like a fledgling union of races soon developed into an empire, as more and more slaves flooded to the capital, wanting to take part in the great rebellion, seeking a new life and a chance to begin again inside the Dominion. Soon, their masters would take their places in the slave markets.
The roles were irreversibly reversed.
Realizing the danger of a Romuli breakthrough, the Alpha and the High Council ordered the building of a chain of forts. from Epirus in the north, to Xenatas in the south and Heraclea to the east, they sealed off the land bridge and bared the exit of Romulan troops from Avernus. The mountain-passes were guarded day and night.
This became known as the Wall of Cerberus.
Beyond this wall, the populace remained basically the same as it was when the Romuli where in charge, people still pray to Mithras, the Sun God, for protection. The Uruks left the temples alone.
Follow the Amber Road ever eastward and you'll eventually reach the fortress of Sirmium, first Romulan bastion to fall in Uruk hands. Its position at the end of the land link between Hadea and Avernus proved to be an advantage as Sirmium trades fish, furs, slaves, sulphur, amber and coal with the other cities in the former Romuli empire.
Under the current guidance of Constantinus Kuchuk, the fortress houses Large Reptarii Baracks (first of its kind), a Uruk Martial Academy where warriors are being bred every day, a Slaughter Shrine and probably its most prized posession, an extended Mining Network. The harvest is excellent and Sirmium provides grains to the rest of the continent.
Further north, you'll find Ulima Mundas, the Tyrant's Throne, formerly known as Constantium, the Second Capital. The Siege of Constantium by Sulla Hades has been widely recorded in the Uruk Chronicles so I won't go into details here, as I am far too drunk to even write what I am now.
Inside this glorious relic of long, begotten times of oppression, the intrepid visitor can still find the original Romuli buildings, such as the Merchant's Wharf, the Shipwright, the Grand Racing Arena, a Thieves Guild, the Grand Temple-Pyramid of Mithras, the Flavian Amphiteatre (first of its kind), the Town Hall, the City Watch, the Ballista Maker and of course, the Large Stone Wall of Constantinus, not to be confused with the Uruk governor of Sirmium.
The faith largely consists of 16 thousand Sun worshipers, who make up for more than half of the city's populace. The remaining 12 thousand inhabitants worship the Animal Spirits and Callisto, the Bear Goddess. This is the main source of concern, as it naturally generates corruption in the higher levels and religious unrest in the gutters.
Squalor here is pretty much bigger than in Demos and it would decrease, if it would not be for the presence of the Colosseum, where gladiatorial matches are still being held. The only difference is that mainly Vashtas, Barkas, Tahars, Greystokes, Paynals and Slavian prisoners are forced to fight in the arena, with non-humans enjoying the show from the first rows. As I said earlier, the roles were reversed all throughout the Dominion.
Needless to say, the most prized gladiators are those of Romuli descent.
The land trade consists of fish, amber, dyes, timber and coal from Vulcium; fish, amber and coal from Arretium; just fish and coal from Rhegium and a bountiful share of fish, furs, slaves, sulfur, amber and coal from Sirmium.
Further down the Avernian shoreline, the inhabitants generally worship Mithras, with the only exception being the former slave-city of Capua, where governor Hector Arcadius has shown great interest in religious matters and raised a Temple to Callisto, thus ensuring the Capuans remain with the Animal Spirits forever. Here, you can still see the Town Guard, Market and Inn buildings bearing a distinct Northern Ibellican style, from the time the settlement belonged to the Faustians, as part of a marriage deal that brought the first human on the throne of Demos.
Beyond the Golf of Wrath, lies the minor city of Eos where even Trajan Odysseus, the local Uruk governor bows to the Sun God. Further still, across the Eosian strait, you may find the fortress of Bot Fund, whose name literally means End of the World in Black Speech. Even here, one notices the change in religious aspects, as the young governor Hades Charon serves Callista and not Mithras.
Allegiances in this far side of the Dominion have always been fickle and countless punitive expeditions have arrived here from Ulima Mundas, sent here to...'

-Ulon the Unworthy was the first Uruk chronicler and the first to learn how to read and write. Rejected at the Academy for being too frail, Ulon found his refuge in books. An avid drinker, his writings are filled with information concerning various alcoholic beverages. He is even said to have sailed to Mesocala, in search for octla, a mysterious Paynal liquor.



The quill is mightier than the axe-sword.
-Ulon the Unworthy

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

Chapter Twenty Three




One-Eye's handicap in no way impairs his tactical skill. In fact, he sees the enemy's mistakes faster than any of my generals.
-The Alpha about Toke

By sea she came. Our master's deliverance, our curse, all wrapped into one.
A foreign princess.
She was the daughter of a proud chieftain, with her came many of her clan's warriors, sun burnt, riding gaunt horses and wielding weapons of thunder and fire. We haven't seen sticks like those since the days we crushed the Tahar into dust.
But we let them inside the Palace, allowed them time to marvel at the glory of what we've conquered, served them the best wine and offered them the choicest women available, for they were our guests. And the Alpha was pleased. Talulah, however, was proving harder to please.
From the moment she stepped into our midst, we were lost. By each passing day, her thirst for power grew and grew. Our leader gave her everything. All her wishes became true, for he loved her dearly and would not tolerate any other Uruk to look at her.
She gave him a son, by the name of Tamás Theseus. But when he gave her Argu, a fortress in Mesocala, bearing the name of the general who died conquering it, as a place for her people to frolic and live, that was when we had our fill. The Sycorax were gladdened by the gift and their warriors rejoiced in the streets.
But the feathered weaklings misjudged us. They took our silence for weakness and our patience for frailty.
Kaga himself would soon realize the error of his ways...

-The Memoirs of Cerberus Fulk


The light of the candle slowly flickered, illuminating the conspirators faces.
Cerberus Fulk, the Treasurer, presided over the gathering, dark and brooding.
'I believe we all know why we are here.'
'Aye. We want to see that bastard dead.' Draganos Hades, son of Gennadius Hades, intervened.
'Here, here!' bald, frail looking Atilius Ragnvald approved.
Along with him, both Perseus Charon, a giant, square-jawed brute together with the tall and brown Caligula Tibor, gave grunts of agreement. All these three, Fulk knew too well.
After all, it was him that adopted them into the royal family.
'They say you killed your own mother to be here.'
Cerberus Fulk stared at the tall, white-haired youngster sitting on the other end of the table.
Atlas Cerberus grinned, his face still in the shadow.
'It was for a just cause.'
Through this pup's veins flows the blood of Alpha Cerberus. No matter how much he disliked the arrogant, insolent whelp, Cerberus Fulk had to admit his legitimacy.
'You'll get your share of the prize, boy. Don't you worry.'
Atlas bowed into the candle light.
'It's the throne I want. You can keep your prizes. And don't call me boy.'
He has the Alpha eyes already. I'll give him that.
'Enough talk!' bold Draganos hit his fist against the table. 'When do we attack?!'
Fulk smiled.
'When the time is right.'
I would much rather see you, lad, on the throne. Not this mother-killing prince. However...
Cerberus Fulk studied the noble features of Atlas' face. Petulant or not, he's the best thing we got.
'We can't risk discovery now that we all gained his trust. Let us wait for him to start a war.'
'We're already at war with the entire world.' Caligula Tibor observed. 'How many of our warriors must we lose before we act?'
'Until we drown in a sea of corpses!' Cerberus Fulk roared. He was losing his patience
'Kaga will move against the Valiente. By noon tomorrow, their allies will be here to help. That means the battlefield will be flooded with enemies. In a battle, anything can happen.'
They all seem to get his meaning. Silence fell, only the timbers in the fire place cracking and splitting.
'Think of were you'll be tomorrow and it shall be so.'
Fulk stared at the youngsters, with intent.
'But... do not let him walk out of that field alive.'

*

'It's windy today.'
Ragnvald Toke, also called One-Eye, observed, staring at the walls of Ceuta.
'We'll call it Windy City then. After we take it. ' replied Varius Ulf, a 19 year old Uruk, fresh out of the Academy.
They were both standing, side by side, waiting for the ladders to be brought up.
'Remember, keep close so you can grab onto their belts. Humans hate it when you do that.'
'Just try to leave some for me, this time.' Varius pleaded.
Toke grinned, his eye shinning with murderous glee.
'No promises.'

The siege was a short and brutal affair.
Ceuta was captured, her people put to the sword.
She was renamed Goi Ora (City of Winds) because it was a particularly windy day when the Uruks took the walls.
They found Secundo Carlos hiding in a cellar. He was brought before Toke, together with his son.
'You'll never take Ibellica, foul creature!'
Carlos de Valiente let out some spit with his curse. Toke rose his giant arms.
'Look around you, prince. We already have.'
With one slash of his scimitar, he sliced the Valiente's head clean off. He then gestured to his guards.
'Bring me the boy. Let him see what happens to rulers.'

*

By the time the siege started, he was already one dead Uruk. All knew their parts.
Except for Kaga, for he had to die.

-The Memoirs of Cerberus Fulk

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

Chapter Twenty Four




What are we? Nothing but voices. Whom do we serve? No one but her.
-Catechism of the Black Priests of Callisto

Mesocala, land of tropical heat and human sacrifices.
A fly kept going inside Temujin Kubadai's eye. He ignored it. His attention was captured solely by the two Valiente armies approaching his rag tag mob from the sides. His troops were encircled and vastly outnumbered. After Thesseus the Mercilless died, Kubadai's rebels enjoyed a period of relative calm, plundering villages around the countryside, with no fear in their hearts.
Dominion watchmen were nowhere to be seen. So naturally, Kubadai assumed he was safe.
When a grandson of Seleukos declared war on the Valiente, however, things started to be different. They found themselves hunted down by the humans, even worse than they were by their own kind. The Ibellicans torched their safe-houses and bombarded their camps every chance they got.
Soon, their numbers began to dwell. No joy in plunder anymore. Only the maddened chase in which Ly Kans, Reptarii and Uruks alike huddled together in straw huts, waiting for the cavalrymen to ride away.
Ride on, you bastards. Ride on!
Those were the thoughts on Temujin's mind during such nights of dread. Now, they had reached the end of the road. Masterfully outclassed and outmaneuvered, his bandits faced trial.
Kubadai had no words to give to the rogues around him. They all knew what they were getting themselves into, from the moment they decided to join their ranks. The small company of deserters grew even larger, with the death of the brutal leader sending more warriors into unemployment in a foreign land.
Sadly, there were more foreigners in Mesocala than Kubadai would've liked to know. They all came for gold and treasure. And they were determined to get rid of the competition.

'It's been nice knowing you, sire.' Ora, the Reptarii female sitting next to him, admitted.
She was his trusted adviser ever since Uglon, the Ly Kan, had perished in his arms, felled by a Valiente crossbow, weeks ago.
'Same here, you scrawny lizard. Same here.'
Kubadai knew what fate awaited them. Too ugly to be kept in-house as slaves, too unpredictable to be pets.
'The humans will leave none of us alive.' he heard her voice out his fears.
'Better make it a worthy death.'
Ora inclined her scaly, delicate head.
'Easy for you to say.'
Kubadai smirked at her. The reptile was right. Her people weren't known for their resilience in combat.
'Well, then, try to make it to the river. I'm sure you'll find some relatives down there'
She gave out a long hiss, the Reptarii version of a hearty laugh.
'You always where the son of a whore!'
'Like all Uruks before me.'

It is said that Temujin 'the Craven' Kubadai died standing, due to all the pikes embedded into him by two detachments of Piqueros (Pikemen). Ora's body, like those of one thousand Ly Kans and Reptarii, was never found.

*

Achilleus pulled the blade out from the Duke's cold, dead hands. The Draculi captives watched on as the enemy commander defiled the body of their fallen leader with his own sword. The Uruk picked up their lord's decapitated head.
'Where is your God now?'
The Slavians stood firm, their eyes filled with hate. Nobody wept, not even the children. A hardy folk, thought Achilleus. Best break them now, before they gather some courage.
The birds were chirping when they found the Duke's son, Elek. He was mangled beyond description. They laid him down next to his father's body, in the main square, for all to see.
The Draculian dynasty was now, officially, extinct.

'Callisto's teats! This is one fine blade!' Achilleus declared.
The Fang-of-the-Dragon captured the sunlight, dark from tilt to tip, yet it still oozed malice.
She was far lighter than any of the rusty falcions Uruks were used to handle. More precise, more deadly.
'Bring forth the prisoners!'
Watching the pale faces of the condemned made Achilleus grin with pleasure in his heart.
'Since I am to be your judge-and-jury, it is only fitting that I should play executioner too! Kneel!'
After the one hundredth man fell limp to his feet, the blade was still as sharp as ever. She tasted blood and she was thirsty for more.
Kubadai Achilleus slaughtered all 3000 prisoners by himself.
That day, he earned the name of Butcher.



The Uruks themselves grew tired of watching their leader relish in endless bloodshed.
Some turned back to pillaging and raping into the streets of the fallen city, others retired to the famous crypts where monsters were said to lurk. They carried stakes and halberds, just to be certain.
By nightfall, Achilleus was exhausted. He could hardly move his sword-arm. Yet the Fang spoke to him.
She whispered in his ear tales of glory and countless spoils. And the old Uruk followed.
Night came and there were no news of the boys sent to deal with the Vampyrs.
Achilleus himself went down into the crypts.
'Come out, lads!' he called out to them. 'There are still plenty of wenches left unspoiled upstairs!'
With the Fang in his hand, he felt sure of himself. Evem if the Vampyrs were what was said of them to be, he, Achilleus, conqueror of Castle Dracule, would take them on. He could kill all that tried to oppose him.
The low ceiling of the corridor forced the old veteran to hunch his back. He still was massive enough to occupy the entire gallery with his shoulders.
'Stop playing about! Where are ya?!'
Achilleus was growing impatient. His sword thirsted for blood, darkening his mind.
'When I'm done with your hides, you'll fear me more than gargoyles and werewolves!'
But there was no answer.
Achilleus stopped, his breath echoing down the hallway.
'Welcome home, master...'
The voice was but a whisper, but you could tell it was of Uruk origin. Once.
'What's your regiment, soldier? ANSWER ME!'
Achilleus scanned the terrible darkness. His eyes were not as good as they were, but he could still spot an enemy lurking about, trying to ambush him. No rebellious runt will ever catch me off-guard! The hilt of the Fang pricked his hand, giving him confidence.
That was when he saw the first, changed Uruk. He raised the Fang up-high but it was too late.
It did not stop the other from slashing his throat.


©2010-2015 Odinoir

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

Chapter Twenty Five




Give me a company of Uruks and I will take a continent.
Give me ten thousand Uruk Gan and I will conquer the world.
-Arcadius the Saint


'First there was Slavos Hades, the Founder. Then, there was Cerberus, the Builder.
After that, came the Usurpers: , Scourge of the Lao Che, Seleukos the Malevolent; Herkules the Unknown; Heinz the Un-Uruk; Argus the Halfman; Thesseus the Merciless and One-Day Zolton.
All came and went, like dust in the wind.
But the dynasty remained, lingering, at the edge of society, waiting for the winds of change to blow.'

Lives of the Alphas
Ulon the Unworthy


The fields were ablaze and everywhere he'd look, men were screaming in agony.
He tried to call for his underlings, but then, he realized he was still in his own nightmare.
A dream, master. Nothing more... That's what Geru would say.
Geru. Where's the old bugger? Did he die in the last battle? I hope not. He's the only one I trust. Don't take him, Callisto. Not him. I'm running out of friends...

Arcadius roared in the darkness of the tent, his muscles bulging under the restraints.
'The master's in agony! We must release him!' Ava, the slave woman pleaded.
'YOU WILL NOT TOUCH HIM!'
Geru snarled, bearing his fangs. The slaves and Uruks in the room froze in horror.
'No one must disturb his visions.' the veteran added, calming down.' Our future depends on it.'
They don't understand, none of them do. Only I know.
I know how it feels to drag our lord and master from a ditch, somewhere, after the battle's done, so that the troops can witness the hero's arrival.
I've seen how the visions rake his body, with convulsions over and over again. No man must know this, Geru; he said to me. Promise me! And promise, I did.
Geru was the last thing standing between his lord and infamy. For some reason, he thought of Yana, his breeding-pen 'wife'.
They hadn't produced any offsprings but that was not for lack of trying. Geru was happy with her. She was the only being who listened to him. He wondered what was she doing right at this moment, as he held the fort against mistrust and despair.
He always fought for his lord's honor. Sometimes, with words, other times, with blade.
'The seizure's past.' the apothecary announced.
All breaths in the room relaxed, as if a great ghost passed through them and out the tent's jagged entrance.
We are at the precipice, Geru. We win here or die.
Those were the last words he heard from his lord, before he left them for the world of dreams.
Luckily, there wasn't anyone else present. No one to ask the obvious, idiotic questions.
What did he mean? Geru felt accustomed to his master's ravings, enough to be able to separate prophecy from lunacy, as daft as it sounded.
His master was now fully asleep and the apothecary recommended a long rest, for recovery. So there wasn't much his lieutenant could do, except go for a walk around the camp.
He wondered about Yana, he had last seen her before the taking of Ceuta. No gifts were exchanged, the meeting was short and brutal. The Uruk way. He had managed to get her out of that stinking breeding pen, brought her into a decent home, somewhere in the city.
But the door was locked. No matter how much he roared, no one answered.
A old washerwoman poked her ugly head outside a second story window.
'W'ut d'ya want?'
'Yana.' Geru growled, eyes glowing with fury. 'Where is she?'
'She ain't here. Go away!'
'I'll burn this entire place down before I leave. Tell me where she is!'
'A Dominion lad got her this morning. Don't know where they went.'
The old hag fell into a sullen silence.
'What did he look like?'
'He looked like you. Only bigger. With long, grey hair.'
An Uruk Gan! Geru felt his heart skip a beat. The elite of the elite. If one of them had his woman, there was little he could do. Except send a petition to the Alpha himself, demanding justice.
Yet at the rhythm the Dominion changed leaders, it was hard to tell if that letter would ever receive an answer. And then, there was the big battle coming up, his master assured him of this.
If the higher-ups would've decided to relocate his woman, Geru should have been notified. No, this was a kidnapping. Plain and simple.

*

'She was the blood of ancient Hades, daughter of brave Spartacus and Mother to us all.' Agnes the Snob read on, in front of the crowd gathered in the square.
She was fighting back tears while her husband, Hades Genduk, was patiently waiting below to light the funeral pire.
Daughter of the late Alpha Argus, Agnes insisted that she be allowed to say the words at her aunt's burial.
Present, in disguise, was also Fay Hades, Agnes' grandmother and sister of the deceased. Hood over her face, she could hear the whispers plainly.
'Look at her, sixteen and already heavy with child! That mercenary of a husband does not waste time!'
'He wants to legitimize his position.'
'They all want to be Alpha these days.'
The people of Demos would gossip the night away. It was a local custom, like wearing amber.
Fay tried hard not to listen to them. She concentrated on the ceremony to block out the voices.
Heidindrudis' pale face reflected the light of the stars.
'They say her son did her in.'
'Like a snake nursed at the breast.'
'All Hadessa are snakes. All they care for is getting rich.'
'Aye, too much human blood in their veins. Makes them weak!'
One day, my family will burn you all. Fay wished she could scream in their faces.
It was with our blood that this Dominion was formed. While you sat at home, getting fat and buggering slaves, we drove the humans back, hacking their kings to pieces so you could feel safe.
It is of no use to argue with the crowd, her son once said to her. For the foolish are many and their minds are always rested. So Fay bit back the anger.
And the flames burned.



Fay Hades

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

Chapter Twenty Six




Uruks are immune to all poisons.
And to every injury, almost. However, they are not immune to time.
Due to selective breeding, if an Uruk male does not fight for an extended period of time, his body withers and dies. Even those who fight can expect nothing close to a quiet life. Because of congenital defects in their skull structure, all Uruks go mad with age.
Most they can hope for is an honorable death in the arena. Or sometimes, if they prove obedient, they can die in battle, defending their betters.

-Xenonius the Last Romuli



'He was the most handsome Uruk in all of Thera. And he acted like it did not mattered.
Human and nonhuman maidens alike would flock to his camp, just to get a glimpse of the prince's long, raven hair and his bright, golden eyes. But he never accepted their advances, choosing instead a life of solitude between books and sieges.
He never had time to think of producing any heirs, until the sickness was upon him. '

-Ulon the Unworthy on Arcadius the Saint




Five they were, ever since Traianus landed in Avalon. They were all that was left of their company. The Mordreds watched the battle unfolding before their eyes.
'My word, they sure are many.' Adaluin the Fair remarked the obvious. ' Shall we join the fray?'
'Of course!' Vane the Mad intervened. 'Let's charge down the hillside, yelling like mindless barbarians, because that's how we survived five campaigns!'
The bitter irony in his voice was evident. No one dared to break the silence for a while. No one except Vurd the Black-Eagle.
'We'll wait until the Uruks thin the herd out, then we'll cut down the stragglers...'
'But... isn't that cowardly?' Adaluin insisted.
'It's what we always do!' Skane the Scared exclaimed. 'What, are you turning righteous on us of the sudden?'
'You're just afraid someone will mess up that pretty face of yours...' Vane croaked.
They laughed, all except Adaluin, who did not jump to the bait. He knew the other was not called the Mad for no reason.
'What say you, captain?'
Gurian, the oldest of the five knights, stood on his black charger, as motionless as a cliff.
'We wait.' he whispered. 'The same as we always do.'
The cavalrymen exchanged saddened glances. They were but a shadow of their former glory. No spectacular cavalry charges for them anymore. They were five, where once were five hundred.
'I wish Loerax was here...'
Adaluin's reply made ripples into their crumbling morale. Skane was the first to react.
'Shut your mouth, fool! You know it's bad luck to bring up the dead before a battle!'
'What does it matter anymore? They're dead! We're all that's left!'
'Silence!' Gurian ended their quarrel. 'Look, down there!'
The mass of enemies was finally breaking. Not to the back, but to the front. They were overflowing the Dominion line, the Uruks mere black islands in a sea of humanity.
'We're losing this battle...' Vane the Mad pointed out the obvious, once more.
'No' their captain added. 'The Dominion is losing, we're still here.'
They were mercs. There for the highest bidder. Ever since Arcadius had landed in Ibellica, victories clung to him like his countless seizures during sermons. His new-found piety turned his moniker from Conqueror to Saint. The Mordreds were paid in full, each time. But even a victory streak must have an end.
'There, look.' Adaluin pointed out a shape running up the dusty hill. 'That's our employer!'
He was right. They all recognized Arcadius, his massive bulk standing distinct from the slithering silhouettes of the Valientes. He's in trouble, Adaluin thought. He wondered what Gurian would say next.
'Adaluin, go! Save our money-purse!'
The order was not unexpected. After all, he was the fastest of the five and they knew it. Gurian was still a bloody good tactician. Even with just four men left on the battlefield.

*

By the time Adaluin got to the Saint, it was too late. He had been unceremoniously dispatched by a Conquistador. The Valiente cursed when Adaluin struck him down from the saddle.
The Mordred Knight ended his employer's killer right there, next to the bodies of his two comrades, which Arcadius had alone send to the Underworld. He had to make sure, so he descended.
The Saint's skull was split wide open, bits of his brain resting in the sand.
No coming back from this...
Adaluin rose back in the saddle. He had to warn the others. There wasn't much time.

*

Uruk General Votan Jason died, surrounded by the Renaissance Royal Bodyguards of Duque Gomes the Malevolent. Also among the dead was Tibor Haldor, loyal beyond question, husband to Bertrada Ugron. She was the daughter of the late Alpha Heinz and Fay Hades.
Her brother was Alpha Argus, father of Jubal the Bastard and Agnes the Snob. And the royal family got a bit smaller once more.
The siege of Peluda ended in failure.

Lives of the Alphas
Ulon the Unworthy

*
Adaluin reached them just in the nick of time. Things were drastically turning from bad to worse: all around them, Dominion troopers were fleeing.
'He's dead. For good, this time!'
Gurian kept his calm, as he usually did during such circumstances. He turned his charger away from the battlefield.
'Well, gentlemen, I guess this concludes our contract.'
They rode off, through smoke and screams. Five Mordreds, out of five hundred.



'I've lived enough.'
-Arcadius the Saint before the battle of Peluda

[Nerva]

My respects to your great writting good sir, I hope you keep with it.

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

Chapter Twenty Seven




It was Toke who first said that we shouldn't hurt innocents during a raid.
When he was made chief, he interdicted the harming of women and children altogether.
He said it went against the way of our ancestors.
They had fought soldiers, not their families.
Soon this became the standard for the entire Army of the North.
Toke's Law, they named it.


-Vudun, old veteran, former member of Toke's Holy Thousand



The wine cellars were transformed into a temporary dungeon where Draganos Hades faced trial. They've been at him for days and still he would not break. Blood draped his proud face.
'Give them up.'
The great brown beast facing him was the Alpha, there to assist in the torture himself.
'Tell me their names, boy.' Kaga snarled. 'It won't do your situation any good to withhold them from me.'
He pushed the hot iron into Draganos' face. The nephew of Sulla held his tongue, further frustrating him.
'What's it going to take, boy?! I know you planned to kill me! My spies are everywhere! Tell me their names and maybe, I'll let you live.'
It was apparent that the Hadessa was going to die, without betraying his mates. Still, Kaga insisted. He pressed his mouth to the wounded Uruk's head.
'I know Fulk is behind this. I know about your little conspiracy. Tell me what I want to hear before I do some damage you won't walk away from.'
'Beloved?'
Talulah's voice startled the great monster. The princess was standing at the entrance, holding her babe.
'GET OUT!' Kaga roared. 'You don't have to see this!'
'So... the rumors are true, then.'
Draganos grinned under coils of soiled hair. He'd seen the future heir of Demos.
'Aye' Kaga admitted. ' I am a father.'
He gestured towards his wife.
'Come closer!'
Kaga was feeling strangely magnanimous now.
'Traitor, meet Tamás Theseus. He will be Alpha someday.'
The babe was as ugly and as fat as his father. Draganos despised the idea of that feeble creature sitting on the throne of Demos.
'I hear you have sons of your own. What were their names again? Ah, yes. One is Xenos and the other one Fulk. You named one of them after my treasurer. How endearing!'
To this, Draganos roared.
'You will not touch them!'
He struggled in chains to reach his tormentor. Kaga started to laugh.
'You will not leave this room alive, filthy Hadessa. Say their names and I'll make sure your sons won't suffer.'
Kaga reached for the pliers, determined to get some answers out at the cost of Draganos' eyes. Blinding him, it's the only way.
'Sire, it is time.'
The tall, proud figure of Atlas Cerberus blocked the cellar's entrance. The prince grinned when he saw Talulah.
'Auntie... Nice to see you again.'
Kaga wanted to crush that insolent weakling for daring to disturb his torture session. Instead, he asked:
'They've taken the walls?'
Atlas offered a fake smile.
'No, they are waiting for you.'
'Aye, I must be there. I must make an example. '
Draganos can wait, Buchendorf cannot.
'Here' he handed the pliers to the prince. 'See what you get out of him.'
Talulah, the most beautiful Sycorax woman in all of history frowned when looking upon Atlas Cerberus. They were kin, her father and his father being brothers, but there was no love lost between these two. She hated to share a blood lineage with the hideous creature.
'Bye, auntie. See you in the city square!'
In truth, Atlas hated her as well.
'Come wife, watch me win this day!'
The giant walked out, carrying his legacy with him.
'Finally, we're alone!'
Atlas threw the pliers away. Draganos stared at him, through blood soaked hair.
'He's really done a number on you, hasn't he?'
'My sons... He mentioned my sons.'
The prince smiled. There was something peculiar about the lad, something that unnerved every Uruk. Perhaps it's the Sycorax blood in his veins. Draganos thought.
'Aye, your sons are safe. The Treasurer has them hidden away, somewhere.'
Wish I knew where.
'I can't release you from your chains, uncle. Our time is almost here. We wouldn't want Kaga to suspect anything, now, would we?'
Draganos spat blood on the floor.
'I'm not your uncle. We are nothing alike!'
'Oh?' The lad's eyes glowed with hidden malice. 'We have much in common, you and I.'
The Hadessa was losing his patience.
'Listen to me, Mother-killer. Your blood's thinner than mine. If I ever see you on the battlefield, I will end you.'
Atlas Cerberus frowned, against his will. He knew exactly what his uncle meant.
They always have to bring out the blood. As if it's my fault that my father was human.
He claimed descendance from the great Spartacus himself, on his mother's side. But then again, I killed my mother... And even Spartacus took Ana, a Romuli princess, for a wife.
In order to win the throne, he had to go up against the rest of the Hadessa family. The pure-bloods.
'In due time, uncle. We'll settle these matters.'
He turned his back to the tortured Uruk.
'The family remembers!' Draganos shouted behind him. 'You hear me, boy?! We never forget!'
Atlas turned and smiled.
'Sorry uncle, can't stay and chat. I have an Alpha to kill. '

*

'Mein Herr, they're at the Gates!'
Jobst Zirn, a budding bureaucrat of the Faustian Empire has had enough. He got used to the screaming and the chaos of battle. But disorder in the ranks was intolerable.
His cold demeanor, so unpleasant for others in times of peace, was what his soldiers needed most in these dire moments. They needed to see he had the situation under control.
'Gutt, Johann. You know what to do. Target their leaders, first and foremost.'
If we are to survive this, we must break them where it matters.
Jobst stared at the writhing mass of soldiers gathering around the Gatehouse, trying to keep the enemy out. The Dominion monsters were cutting his men to pieces, piling up mountains of corpses. There, in the midst of the savagery, he could see the giant black Uruk, dressed in shinny lorica segmentata, taking heads and urging his people onward.
'There, that's their commander!' Jobst yelled to his Line Infantry. 'If we shoot him, then this is over!'
But then, he noticed something strange: the monsters were pulling back. The Alpha was left stranded, surrounded by Faustian Pikemen.
'Das ist unsere Chance! Angreifen!*'
Jobst led his Bodyguards through the street, his eyes set on the target. Then there was a sharp jolt, his horse pranced and the last thing he saw was the hideous brute's heavy jaw as the beastman struck him clean in the face with its axe-sword. Perseus Charon downed the Faustian commander, turned and roared:
'Now! Bring him down!'
'What are you yapping about? He's already down!'
Kaga turned in disbelief. He looked bewildered, covered in human entrails. His eyes gazed upwards. There, on the battlements, the hooded, dark-robed figures of the Priests were lined up. Their staffs were smouldering, as they have just finished their invocations.
'Holy Mother of...'
Those were all the words he had time to utter, before the flames of hell engulfed him.
Bald, pale Atilius Ragnvald had the time to see the Alpha going down, before being cut down by Forlorn Hope men. Atlas Cerberus witnessed the same scene from the safety of a conquered tower.
He grinned, his eerie smile bringging fear into all who saw it.
'The Alpha is dead, boys. Time to celebrate!'

*

They drained him half to death. His battle brothers, these soldiers alongside he had fought.
Now, like him, irredeemably changed.
They turned him in the crypts, next to the bodies of his former enemies. He knew afterwards, what was needed of him. Even in this new form, he was still their commander.
They waited for nightfall. Then the changed ones turned the old ones. Together, they cleansed the castle of every mortal man, woman or child. The very few survivors fled to the countryside, warning the peasants of a new breed of terror.
By the next night, they left the confines of the fortress. There was no need for walls to protect them. In the four corners of the land, they roamed, ever hungry for new flesh. On the fourth night, the surrounding countryside was silenced. Goi Lugat reigned supreme. No lamb could be heard for miles. But still, they hungered.
And so they reached the sea.
'There.' Kubadai Achilleus pointed his sword towards the distant shores. 'We must go back.'
His undead brothers silently agreed.
The first Uruk vampire lord watched Ibellica in the mist.
If we are to survive... we must feast on the blood of our brothers.
His eyes glowed with unholy light.




Original by Carlos Ortiz ©



'This is our Chance! Charge! -(trans. german)

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

Chapter Twenty Eight




Do you want us to go back? Back to a time when we were slaves?
-Arcadius the Saint


He found her in a cage, at the slave-market. She was bruised up pretty badly, but he still recognized the fire that burned in those blue eyes.
That's my Luna. He hasn't broken her spirit.
'I am here to take you back.'
His hand reached up beyond the iron bars, towards her face. She shied away from his touch.
'You're too late. I don't need rescuing. Go away, Geru!'
The warrior gazed at his woman, unable to see the world around him.
'Luna. You are my moon. You will always be mine...'
Yana grabbed the bars and spat the words in his face.
'Don't you understand? I never loved you!'
Geru struggled with the urge to break open the cage and lift her on his shoulder.
'Where is he?'
The woman wiped the tears off her bruised face.
'No.' The hate glowed in her eyes. 'Where were you when he did this to me?'
She rose to her feet, naked as the day she was born. Slashes were all over her skin, impossible to count. Geru felt the need to roar his hate towards the heaven.
'He will... pay for what he did. I assure you, I will avenge you...'
It was customary for an Uruk not to show pain, but Geru's tormented expression was a dead giveaway. Yana's smirk died, as she watched something appearing behind him. A great shadow hovered over Geru, eclipsing him and her, at once.
'So... here to claim your prize, are ya?'
The Uruk did not need to turn to see who it was. He recognized the guttural sound of the pampered elite.
'You... will answer for this... Hundur *.'
The Uruk Gan laughed. He was unimpressed.
'Wrong, that is not my name. I am Hector, of the Sixth Legion and you.. are nothing to me.'
Geru pivoted, just in time to avoid the slash. He felt the air whine as the giant two-handed axe-sword fell, inches away from his face. I am unarmed and he is in full battle plate. Don't like them odds.
'Give up, pup. She was no entertainment. I sold her to a Jumali, maybe he'll get something out of her.'
That detail alone infuriated Geru. The Jumalis were famous for their cruelty. They were known cannibals.
'Or maybe I'll just eat her myself!'
The Uruk Gan swung again, this time aiming for the Uruk's feet. Geru jumped, agile enough to evade. Even if the Gan was twice his size, he still had speed on his side.
'I'll eat your heart in the end!'
He snarled, bearing his fangs. Another swipe came and he caught the blade between his palms. Then he pushed himself into the air, hitting the chest of the Uruk Gan with both his legs.
It was a move he'd used on the battlefield, against rogue Uruks, too heavy to be taken down otherwise.
Hector did not budge. He dropped the weapon and grabbed Geru by the neck.
'Yes' he grinned' this is much better!'
Geru's eyes turned to the cage. Yana was watching the scene. Is she rooting for me or the other one? One could never be sure with these guileful beings.
'Humans...' the Uruk Gan added, as if guessing Geru's thought. 'What changeable creatures!'
His fingers were pressing down on his windpipe with the force of a thousand camels. Won't be long now... and I'll be in the Afterlife.
'You really wish to die for her? She told me how much she despised you, how she loathed your every touch.'
Hector's breath was in his face, choking him more than his hands could.
'Face it, old one. We are what we are but we will never be like them. They will never love us. All we can do is hit them back.'
Geru struck the Uruk Gan's groin, with all his remaining force. It was a bad move, which he regretted, instantly. But it was the warrior's way. One must overcome one's opponent by every means necessary.
Hector gave out an immense roar. I angered him, now it becomes interesting.
The Uruk Hai swirled on the ground, found his footing and also, the Uruk Gan's weapon. As the Legionnaire lounged for another choke hold, Geru gave him back his sword. Into his head.
Then came silence.
But the Uruk Gan stood, despite all the trauma. He grinned and yanked the blade out.
'Haven't you heard, pup? Your protector is dead. Killed in Vindobonna. I was there, I saw him fall.'
Blood was spilling on the soft Ibellican soil. Geru could not find his words. He fought back against the shock.
'No... You lie.'
You'll say anything to save your skin.
'Am I, pup? Ask yourself this, why would a Praetorian lie about failing his job?'
The Uruk Gan's face filled with sadness.
'I was supposed to protect him. But I failed. I ran, like the others.'
He fell to his knees, his head hunched between his massive shoulders.
'Go on, pup. Finish me!'
Geru could not believe his eyes. He was panting, still holding the sword. He thought of Yana, of what he promised her. How he wanted her tormentor dead! And now, he was unable to lift a finger.
'End him!' Yana cried from her cage. 'Take his head now!'
My master. Why wasn't I by your side?
He remembered Arcadius' laugh, his gentle spirit. How he played with the children, how he taught the soldiers the essence of living a pure life. And now... that light was gone from the earth. Forever.
'I am... to blame. I should've been there.'
He dropped the blade.
'Noo! You sick fool!'
Yana's curses could not hurt him. Nothing mattered anymore.
'You know...'
The Uruk Gan rose up.
'You should've listened to your woman.'
Hector of the Sixth Legion struck down Geru of the Saint's Chosen.
'She was right about me.'
His fists came down, methodically, on the Uruk's skull. Crushing bone, exposing brain tissue.
'Now weep for your Saint in hell...'
Geru could not hear Yana's screams. All he felt was the blood living his body.
And then, the cold.


* Dog (in Black Speech)

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

Chapter Twenty Nine




If he comes bearing arms, slay him.

-Charon Charon, Tyrant of Styxia, before receiving the Dominion envoy


'Where is that cursed piece of Bagal* ?'
Those were the first words Draganos Hades uttered, when they unchained him after the taking of Buchendorf.
'Gone. And so are his supporters.' Cerberus Fulk answered, entering the cellars.
'Torture did not break your spirit. I'm glad to see you in such strength!'
The Treasurer's words hit a brick wall. The Hadessa wiped the blood off his face.
'Your appreciation comes a bit late.'
Cerberus Fulk frowned.
'Oh? How so?'
'He knows about my children, Treasurer. Kaga mentioned their names in his presence. All Atlas has to do now is find their whereabouts.'
Fulk left his heavy hand on Draganos' wounded shoulder.
'He will never find out where they are. Be at peace, your lineage is secure.'
'Are they safe or are they hostages?'
The Treasurer adopted a tone of righteous indignation.
'You wound me with your mistrust. Haven't I proven myself already?'
Draganos replied, quoting an old Dominion proverb:
'No one knows what's inside the Treasurer's head but the Treasurer.'
To this, Fulk fell silent, so the Hadessa tried to soften the blow.
' I am sorry, old friend but it is known that nowadays the Hades family does not have many friends.'
'That may be so, but never forget that it was a Hadessa who adopted this wretch you see before you, into the royal family. I am forever in his debt.'
Fulk was speaking of Traianus the Noble Savage, slain on the island of Avalon and a cousin to the recently deceased Arcadius.
'So, will you support my claim to the throne?'
'You're more Hadessa than Atlas Cerberus will ever be.'
They marched out of the cellars. Outside, endless rows of Faustian prisoners were also marching, but towards slavery.
'That throne is yours by birth-right.' Fulk continued. 'Besides, that mad boy knifed the only chance he ever had! Council doesn't look well onto slayers of mothers.'
'But if he gathers the Uruk Gans support, things change in his favor.'
'The Guard follows only the strong.'
Draganos was fully aware of his advantages, he did not need the Treasurer explaining them to him, he saw where his weaknesses where and he felt he must play the game from a safe distance. Well, for now, at least.
'Tell that to the bastard that sits the throne.'
The Treasurer grinned.
'Do not trouble yourself. We will deal with that miscreant Attila soon enough.'
Like we did with his son.

*

The Mordred Knights rode by, as the Uruks crouched in the ditch next to the road. Out of sight, waste-high in murky waters, Atlas Cerberus looked on as the heavy cavalry passed.
If only my mother could see me like this... She would laugh so hard.
The Uruk beside him said:
'They are looking for you.'
That much was plain. They still had a long way, until they reached the Capital. But we'll get there. And when we do, heads will roll.
They were on the run for almost a week now, dodging Dominion patrols left, right and center. However, Atlas was still confident. The throne is mine by right. I just have to reach it.
'We'll wait until sundown.' he told his subordinate. 'Then we'll take the uncharted path.'
'Just like in the Ballad of Kubadai.' the other one said.
The prince knew of the character, a rogue rebel general, that terrorized the countryside until he got caught by Valientes in Mesocala. He was not familiar with the song, though.
'Whisper it to me, Urd.'
Speaking as low as he could, Urd complied.

' Far and wide
They searched for Kubadai
Through bogs and swamps and desert lands,
They found no trace of Kubadai
For days on end
They looked for Kubadai
Yet he was nowhere to be seen
Run and hide
Old Kubadai
Run and hide'

Atlas Cerberus smiled his eerie grin.
'Urd, you have no idea how appropriate this is.'

*

The babe was as strong as his father, that much was certain. Branwen felt the force of those tiny fingers, gripping her hand as she toyed with her offspring. It surprised her to see how her son inherited her flaming red hair and even her green eyes.
As for the rest, he was Uruk through and through.
'Claudius, you'll break mother's finger. You don't want that, do you?'
Her son stopped, instantly. He was always aware of his surroundings, even from the cradle. You'll make a fine warrior, you'll make your uncle proud, Lady O'Neil thought.
'My Queen...'
The Ly Kan dared not enter and held his ground outside the royal chamber.
'What is it, Kano?'
'They... they have returned.'
Branwen sprinted to her feet, shielding the cradle with her presence.
'Aed?'
The werewolf kept his head lowered, as was customary in front of an Alpha.
'No, my Queen...It's...it's Ragnvald.'
Eothese? He can't be back, it's too soon!
'Take me to him!'
She kept her bear cloak on, grabbed the Gaelic axe on her way out and left her son under the watch of the Guard.
A raid over this fast can mean only thing: defeat. He didn't get crap, now he's turning back with his tail between his legs.
Branwen kept thinking frantically, on her way down the stairs of the huge Warlord mansion.
The beach was filled with onlookers, watching the fleet unload her cargo of warriors and equipment.
She felt the cold breath of the night's air surrounding her.
The banners are slightly off, she noticed.
And there were other strange things.
'I see only Uruks...What is this, Kano?'
Branwen O'Neil distinctly remembered Valach mercenaries and local bandits accompanying Eothese on the punitive expedition. Human bandits...
'They look normal to me, mistress.'
'No, something's wrong.'
The way they moved on the beach, the way they stared at her, with blank, phosphorous eyes. Branwen felt her heart racing.
'Get the men back. These are not our troops!'
The mansion, we need to get back to the mansion.
Her thoughts were racing as the first monster jumped on one of her Uruks, pushing him to the ground, placing his mouth on her warrior's neck.
He's... he's feeding on him!
BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
The horn of Verstov wailed and people screamed.
'Gather the men, Kano! Get everyone to the mansion!' Branwen yelled.
Everybody was running back, away from the ships, away from the white-eyed monsters.
What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?! Oh Gods, give me a good death!
Branwen ran, her thick bearskin cloak was hindering her moves, but she did not cut the reins off and fought to make a decent retreat out of a total rout. She directed the masses as best she could.
It was then that Kubadai Achilleus first noticed her. He pointed the Fang of the Dragon towards the Queen of Verstov.
'No one touch her! The she-bear is mine!'



* Dung ( in Black Speech)

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

Chapter Thirty



We are the Uruk Hai. We do not take, we are given. We do not kill, we liberate.

-Toke One-Eye


The Inn was empty except for the parties involved in the exchange. Human, non-human alike, they were all strained, nerves pushed to the limit, hands grasping hilts of swords. Eyes of different color, staring at each other, looking for signs of danger.
'Nothing like a show of force among seasoned veterans, eh?'
Ragnvald Toke decided to break the silence. He had that power about him, dominating the room in posture and in size.
'We do not share your humor, beast. There are few men around these parts who haven't lost a relative to your wars of conquest.' Simon Ruyz answered.
The High Marshall of the Valiente was in no mood for jokes. One-Eye saw that well.
'What do you expect from us? We are the Uruk Hai. We do not take, we are given. We do not kill, we liberate.'
Some sneers and scoffs came from the Valientes. Some muffled curses from the Uruks.
'By the morrow, we will be in the ground or we will be victorious.' the human commander explained. 'I failed to see the reason of this meeting. Other than ambush, of course.'
Toke did little to prove otherwise.
'Perhaps that was exactly the point.'
He stood, axe-swords in his hands. His Uruk Guards gathered around him. The Inn's ceiling was too low for them to swing those massive blades. The Valiente commander grinned.
'You are outmatched, outnumbered and outgunned. How can you win?'
Toke bared his sharp teeth.
'If I can't win, doesn't mean I will lose.'
Within a heartbeat, they were on top of each other. Enemies wrestling in righteous hand-to-hand combat. Uruks using only their fists, Valientes using their swords and pistols. The sound of gunfire alerted the guards outside.
More men came pouring in.
By then, it was all over.
'Drop your weapons.' Toke demanded, in a low growl. 'This ends here.'
And so it was that Ragnvald Toke, known as One-Eye, captured the Valiente commander of Apelia and his retinue. The event will be named the 'Dinner of Infamy' amongst the humans of Ibellica and as 'Toke's Gamble' amongst the peoples of Demos. Either way, One-Eye cared less for names of the events he was busy living.
His gamble did not pay off, unfortunately.
In the middle of the night, Segundo Areas , the Valiente Faction Heir, their Marshall of Horse, rode into camp with a large Troop of Cavalry and freed Simon Ruyz.
The very next day, the First Battle of Apelia commenced.

***

First Battle of Apelia saw few Uruks perishing on the battlefield. Among them, however, was the young progeny, Varius Ulf, mortally wounded by Valiente Sword and Buckler men. He is said to have expired in his mentor's arms, who arrived too late to save him.
Ragnvald Toke, called One-Eye, attacked Simon Ruyz, High Marshall of the Ducado de Sangre Valiente. Ruyz received reinforcements from Fernando Vasquez, hundreds of Musketeers and a few cannons.
Also present was Segundo Areas, the Valiente Faction Heir, Marshall of Horse, with just 14 Knights of Santiago and dozens of Conquistadores and Arquebusiers.
Toke received Reinforcements from Taurus Vlad in the form of 743 men.
Fernando Vasquez fell, killed by Free Company Pikemen (the Men in Blue Pants).
According to old law, Uruks slew 868 Valientes in battle and executed 491 prisoners afterwards.
One-Eye Toke was accepted into the Royal Family. He forbid the slaying of innocents under his command, immediately after.


Lives of the Alphas
Ulon the Unworthy

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

Chapter Thirty One




'Never drink and marry at the same time, in Ibellica.
You could pay with your life. '

-Travels of Ulon the Unworthy



'Located beyond the Sea of Torments, third largest landmass on Thera, Ibellica has always been a place of myth and legend. Heavily populated in the past, her soil both rich and fertile, she has given much to her Dominion explorers.
Ibellica, land of fine wine and gorgeous, spirited women. The population in the northern part of the continent remains predominantly Christian, as the Christ cult was never officially abolished by the conquerors. Temples called 'churches' can still be seen in every settlement. Even though no one speaks of their religion openly, it is a widely accepted fact.
Pockets of resistance still linger here, at the edge of Dominion control. The northernmost part of the Uruk Empire is the city of Aachen, still bearing the name given to it by its all-too-human founders. Beyond this province lies the Sea of Shadows and beyond that, the dreaded island of Slavia, wrapped in gruesome folk-tales and legends about monsters. It is said that one can still hear the cries of the damned echoing in the night, across the murky waters.

Trade in these parts of the Empire has always been slow, particularly due to raids by rogues and Faustian rebels, who still cling to the idea of a human ruled kingdom up north. In reality, the Reich is a shadow of his former self, composed of a couple of towns and villages that remain outside Dominion's jurisdiction, by choice.
And by their own choosing, they shall all perish, in due time.
But I digress, forgive my ramblings, dear reader, but the cup is half-full, I must empty it. Now, where was I? Ah, yes, the township of Aachen, due to an advantageous marriage of an Alpha Yar with a Dracule princess (no other foreign prince was brave enough to have her) enjoys secure trading agreements with the obscure cities of Vallach and Kosavar. Sea imports from these places consist mostly in transports of tin and wool, nothing too fancy, I fear.
For this, the slavians get in return Dominion grain and marble. You can clearly see who got the better end of this deal, eh?
Further east from Aachen, one will discover the minor city of Essen, a mining colony where no trade takes place. Population largely Christian, with only a handful of people, usually old veterans still praying to the Animal Spirits. This situation is pretty much the same in its neighbor, the fortress of Goi Rufan.
Except for the large trading post established here by the governor Cassius Argo, who's still very young and has yet to see a battlefield. Goi Rufan trades with Aachen, Arandorf, Goi Gijak and Buchendorf, mostly in wine, grain, dyes and wool, with only Goi Gijak offering her fair share of slaves.
Between the fortress of Goi Rufan and the large town of Hoth, lies the Hispanic Enclave of Arandorf, last remaining outpost of the Povos da Hispana, where brave Primeiro Menendus and his people still live, trading with the Dominion, in peace and harmony.
Wars of the past long forgotten, these people stand as living proof inside the Dominion,against those that say 'Uruks are nothing more than bloodthirsty killers!!!'. If that was so, why hasn't the Enclave been destroyed yet?
Some might argue that they don't have a choice and must trade with the Dominion to assure their very survival. If that were so, then it was clearly not their idea. Since when have humans thought rationally?
What matters is that they live, in a former Faustian region and their kingdom receives wine, iron, grain, textiles, coal, and wool from the nearby Uruk towns. If one would attest that the Dominion is feeding and clothing these people, one would not be far from the truth!
In Hoth, one finds the enigmatic Kubadai Achilleus, holder of the Fang of the Dragon, ancient Dracule sword, from his days of conquering Dracule castle. It is rumored that he drinks the blood of his fallen enemies.
That may be so, but as I said before, Hoth provides for the majority of the wine, iron and wool present in Arandorf.

Eastward, the perpetual traveler finds the fortress of Goi Gijak, who receives a steady intake of cotton and slaves from the city of Valiente (mostly former Valiente soldiers or Mesocalan prisoners of war, brought across the ocean, ready to be sent to the Arenas).

The city is considered a happy exception from the northern religious rule, meaning that the majority of people here worship Callista and her animal spirits pantheon.
They also have their own rebel general, just waiting outside their city. He goes by the name of Saluador Santiago, and remains at large since the days of La Mala Conquista (human term for the Uruk invasion of the Ducado de Sangre Valiente).
The city of Heidindrudis, named after a famous Uruk noblewoman, used to be governed by the lady's own son, a halfbreed named Atlas Cerberus, until he was apprehended by the...'


Siege of Lutaum Hashat

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

Chapter Thirty Three




Our hides were too tough for their blades so they tried blinding us with arrows.
We fought in their shade.
-Toke One-Eye, on the Avalon campaign



There were worst things out there than dying.
That was what Geru was discovering, standing before his master's grave. The Uruk was a battered, broken shell of his former self, bruised and barely able to stand.
'But you still have your wits, Geru! That must count for somethin' !' Igride, the skinny redhead insisted.
'Be gone, harlot!'
But Igride was right. They found him in a pool of blood, more dead than alive and dragged him away, before the Gan Guards could claim him. What was left of him, anyway.
The whores took their friend to a blind, old apothecary, more used to healing cows than superiors. The sawbones hacked and cut at Geru all night, ignoring his screams.
The whores have saved him. The old apothecary placed a metal plate on his skull, where his brain was exposed. His crude surgery allowed Geru's orcish physique to realign.
I seal exterior wounds, the doc told the wenches. But there are those on the inside you should pay mind to.
By that he meant Geru was possibly going to go insane.
And they believed him, for he was somewhat right. They were even considering chaining him to his bed. Until you get better, Igride affirmed.
But he was not feeling well. He had to see with his own eyes. He had to be by his master's side.
One last time.

His world was a whirlpool of suffering and despair. He managed to drag himself out of bed.
First and foremost, he visited the battlefield, just outside Peluda. He saw with his own eyes the place where his master had fallen. His honor demanded he stay and watch by his master's grave.
Where were you, Geru? Where were you when they were putting me down, like a dog?
He could hear master's voice loud and clear in his head. It wasn't pleasant. Tears were rolling down the Uruk's gaunt cheeks.
'I am sorry, my master. I have failed you.'
I wasn't there when you needed me most. I want to die right here, right now.
Days and nights he stood guard by Arcadius the Saint's tomb. No one came. No former comrades, no relatives. Every Uruk feared reprisals from the current Alpha and his cronies.
They keep their distance now. When you were alive, they sang odes to win your favor!
Days and nights passed by and Geru was feeling helpless. He hungered, but denied himself any food.
He slumbered like a feverish dying man, on top of his master's grave, like a loyal watchdog.
'Go to her, Geru!' Igride had found him and was whispering in his ear again. 'No use lingering around here for, amongst dead things!'
Geru snarled and bared his fangs.
'I told you once, I'm not telling you again: leave me be, woman!'
But she did not leave. She brought him food. Geru, reluctantly, ate, for his body felt the need to be alive, despite his better judgment.
'You love her, Geru! You're not like your comrades. Those animals... But you can still find her and bring her back safe! It is your destiny!'
He ravished Igride on his master's grave that night. He thought that was what she wanted. But the slave girl was no match for Yana, in bed or in temperament. However, that quick and shallow thing that they did awaken his senses. Yes, it was true. He did miss her.
How can I face him after what he did to me? Limping, barely able to walk, what sort of opponent am I now?
'The right kind.' a naked Igride approved. 'We'll get you weapons. Me and the girls have some stashed away, for rainy nights.'
'What? You planing a rebellion?' Geru grinned but Igride's face darkened.
'What if we were? We don't need your help, Geru. Just get Yana back...'
Mind your own business, that was what she was saying. But the Gaelic girl was right. The affairs of puny humans did not matter to him and to any honest Uruk.
'Show me that arsenal.' he whispered and took her again.

*

'Princess, I won't lie to you. It does give me great pleasure seeing you like this.'
The chains rattled, keeping her suspended in mid air.
'I'm a Queen, you fool.' Branwen looked down upon her captor. 'Although, I do not expect you to know the difference.'
Achilleus grinned, showing off his brand new set of fangs.
'What of your son, then? Does he know the difference?'
'If you touch him, I swear I'll...'
The vampire-lord laughed at her anger.
'You'll what? Scream for your brothers in Caledonia? Do you think they'll help? Should they even care about some halfbreed prince, half the world away, that could one day claim their rightful throne? Seems to me that they much rather let him die.'
The Uruk contemplated her nudity.
'Oh yes, I know everything there is to know about Gaelic justice!'
Branwen knew what must be done, she had to stall him.
'What do you want from me?'
'Not much. Just your soul. And the promise of the Gaelic islands!'
To this, she had to laugh.
'My brothers would kill me before they let you sit in our father's place! You're even a bigger fool than I thought...'
The Uruk general still smiled. Something in his eyes made Branwen uneasy. And no, it wasn't the vampiric glow, it was the evidence of a malignant intelligence. This is going according to his plan...He wants me to act this way.
'I never said I wanted the throne. I just need one apprentice to set foot on Tethra... One is enough. '
Branwen tried to hide her disgust. You knew where this was going.
'Your son will be safe, I promise.'
Those were the last words he said, before piercing her neck with his fangs. His touch was almost gentle. Branwen O'Neil moaned, looking up towards the uncaring stars.

*

The Observatory of Hoth was crowded. The room was filled with people. Fresh new faces, some old ones as well, they all had one thing in common: they were human.
No Uruks anywhere. When the Grand Inquisitor appeared, all murmurs ceased.
'Welcome, gentlemen, to this most auspicious gathering!'
The people kept to themselves. Glances were exchanged, from one side of the room to the next. With a knowing eye, Inquisitor Fredericus Mercury Hendrix already recognized some of the guests. Some bowed, most kept their heads high. Not a lot of believers left, I'm afraid...
As if sensing the tension, the Grand Inquisitor added, with a gentle smile.
'Rest assured, there are no traitors here. Every person present has had their backgrounds checked all the way down to their first ancestor. There is not a drop of inhuman blood in this entire hall!'
He could hear the crowd giving a general sigh of relief. Poor souls... Living in fear is no life at all.
'Gentlemen' Inquisitor Hendrix continued 'we represent what remains of Mankind. We stand united, for the first time in history, under the same roof, former foes, now, brothers and sisters, together in suffering and despair.'
That got their attention. Hundreds of faces turned towards the Holy Man.
'Make no mistake' he continued. ' We are losing this war. What you see before you is our last hope, the final chance to victory.'
'All I see is a shroud, covering a body.' Primeiro Menendus intervened, his gruff voice echoing through the hall.
Next to him was Hochmeister Ludwig of the Teutonic Order who nodded his head, in approval.
'Indeed Inquisitor, you may dispense with the introductions. We hardly have the time for them, with the enemy knocking on our door.'
The chapter-master was surrounded by his tall, stern and white-clad knights. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder with the uncouth Hispanics.
Any other place, any other time and they would've cut each other to pieces.
This is my legacy to the world!
'Yes messer Luciano, the situation is quite dire. However, good things come to those who wait.'
'Patience is a virtue my people cannot afford!' a young boy intervened, barely past his fourteen summer. 'We are bleeding out! The Black Beast grinds our sons into the dust as we speak!'
The boy was named Fernan de Valiente, he had royal blood in his veins and he was First Minister of the Ducado de Sangre Valiente. Deus Meus, they are running out of men!
Fredericus inclined his mitre dorned head.
'Allow me to demonstrate... Rothgaard, if you please.'
The viking heir of Valhalla Lund, sent south by his father to investigate the civilised lands, obliged, without forgetting to smirk at the ladies present. He pulled the sheet off the corpse.
The crowd held her collective breath.
'This, my friends, is a dead Uruk.'
The corpse was in good shape. It still had its armor on.
'De Sousa's people killed it, just last night. It was roaming their streets, in a drunken state.'
All gathered around the slab, some even touching it with curious, quivering hands. The body was that of a full grown male, you could tell he was a famous warrior by the markings on his armor. One of their Elites, no doubt.
His dusky skin was hard and cold as lead to the touch. The Inquisitor watched his guests inspecting the cadaver.
They still fear it, even when it's dead. I must change their state of mind!
Inquisitor Hendrix recounted the facts to them, as best he could.
'They killed it with javelins. It seems their skin only protects them from up-close attacks. What is interesting about this specimen is that it shows signs of wear and tear. This... is a veteran. Perhaps this monster was among the first to land on Ibellica, perhaps he even fought our forefathers. As we now know, their life-span depends directly upon the battles they wage. Still, particularly interesting is this ossified region behind the skull.'
The child-Minister of the Valientes probed the named area.
'Careful, boy, you'll awaken it!'
Primeiro Menendus' joke was not well received by the lad.
'Ja, und?' Michel von Salzgitter, Faustian Reich's Minister for Economy, was growing impatient.
'We know they can die! What else?'
Fredericus Hendrix did not lose his composure.
'We've learned that all Uruks suffer from this affliction. Due to selective breeding from their arena past, all Uruks have a cranial abnormality, which in time, causes extreme discomfort. This is the reason why they go mad with age.'
'Layman's terms, Inquisitor.' Hochmeister Ludwig intervened. 'Some of us here are not so well schooled as to understand you.'
He's referring to the barbarians.
'They have a bone growing into their brain.' Fredericus Hendrix delivered. ' Inching its way, ever closer to the center, each passing day, towards an unavoidable future. No wonder they lose their minds.'
The delegates looked at him, still waiting for the conclusion.
'They can die, gentlemen. Without us, they are doomed. They need us, we feed their blood-lust. Without anything else to kill, the Uruk turns on itself.'
'So, what are you suggesting, that we leave them be, in hopes that they kill each other?'
Aisha Vashta, daughter of the Sultan had her say.
'No, my child. I want you to hunt them down, one by one, city after city, to the ends of the world, if you must, just kill them! I want you to stand united against a common foe. I want you to put aside your differences, Cross or Crescent, we are one, we act as one!'
They were listening. He knew he had their full attention. And it was a great feeling.
'It is up to you, all of you, to send them back to the Underworld!'
The delegates agreed but still, there was no cheering. You fear the Beast, even when you're safe.
No matter, I will guide you.
'Find the best way to kill them and make it so!'
Another delegate stepped forward, this one was clad in grey and bore the skull and bones of a former enemy.
'Yes, pirate. Speak. We are listening.'
The Grand Inquisitor smiled, pretending not to see the stupor on everyone's faces.
'In my experience of hunting Uruks, I found that shooting them from a far is often, the best choice.'
Erik Blacke, last descendant of Lord Greystoke.
'Your great-grandfather killed my predecessor and took his heart.'
Hendrix descended his papal chair and took the young man's hand into his. They turned to the crowd.
'I embrace you as my brother! For it is with your hand and everyone else's, that we will defeat the monster!'
The Observatory was filled with the sound of applause. Fredericus Hendrix smiled, pleased with himself.
Now they are cheering. I have them in the palm of my hand.

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

Chapter Thirty Two




When dealing with Uruks, shoot them from a far. Best to keep a safe distance.
-Erik Blacke, last descendant of Lord Greystoke





Noble Alfa,

News have reached us of the troubles on Verstov Island. Queen Branwen of the Gaelic Tribes is missing. So is her infant, Claudius. We therefore humbly request permission to undertake a search party.
There have been rumours of cannibalism and a strange new breed of pest infesting Castle Goi Lugat. No reports have come from the garrison commander Achilleus. Our spies tell us he's no longer present on Slavia. His whereabouts are unknown. We hope we will find him well, along with Queen Branwen and her cub.
I also express my gratitude for your benevolence in allowing me to keep my rank as commander of the troops. The soldiers are happy as well with your decision. We prey this letter reaches you in good health!
May your reign last forever and may the Dominion conquer all corners of this world under your rule!

Noble and loyal,
Sigismund Kubeke
Kritar of the Blood Legion, 13th Company



Kritar,

Must thank you for your honesty, first and foremost. You've shown me things that my Generals usually hide from me, out of fear.
Kaga's death comes to no surprise to us all, for he was greatly hated by the Hadessa clan and nobles alike, due to his humble origins. Like him, I too am but a soldier and I already feel the conspiracy brewing.
As it happens, I am surrounded by future traitors and would-be cutthroats. But be not troubled, I have them under my heel.
However, we have been getting troubling reports of Uruks going mad in and around Verstov. Advance with caution.
If you are able, capture and bring back one of the afflicted so we can study the illness at its core. We hope it's not rabies.
Excuse the errors in this letter for my scribe was trembling too much and I had to kill him. I hope this new one fairs better.
Remain strong, Kritar.

Alpha Hector, First of his Name
Ruler of the Dominion



Noble Alfa,

We've landed on Verstov. This place is a tomb.
There are no Uruks or humans left here. No traces of Queen Branwen and her retinue. The keep is empty, the cellars are void, even the stables show no traces of life. It is as if the sea has swallowed them whole.
We found traces of combat, but no weapons of any kind. My Uruks fear this island is cursed. We await your orders.

Noble and loyal,
Sigismund Kubeke
Kritar of the Blood Legion, 13th Company





Kritar,

Search the countryside. Scour the fields if you must. If Kubadai Achilleus has gone rogue, we must have proof of this.
Trust me, there are no empty places where people once lived. The locals are hiding. Find them!
You know as well as I, that these vermin are hardest to extinguish of all creatures.
I am sure you can find me a living one. Get the truth out of it. Remove its tongue if you have too.
Remain brave and vigilant.


Alpha Hector, First of his Name
Ruler of the Dominion

Noble Alfa, We've landed on Verstov. This place is a tomb. There are no Uruks or humans left here. No traces of Queen Branwen and her retinue. The keep is empty, the cellars are void, even the stables show no traces of life. It is as if the sea has swallowed them whole. We found traces of combat, but no weapons of any kind. My Uruks fear this island is cursed. We await your orders.
Noble and loyal, Sigismund Kubeke Kritar of the Blood Legion, 13th Company

Kritar, Search the countryside. Scour the fields if you must. If Kubadai Achilleus has gone rogue, we must have proof of this. Trust me, there are no empty places where people once lived. The locals are hiding. Find them! You know as well as I, that these vermin are hardest to extinguish of all creatures. I am sure you can find me a living one. Get the truth out of it. Remove its tongue if you have too.

Remain brave and vigilant.
Alpha Hector, First of his Name Ruler of the Dominion

Noble Alpha,

We found a mass-grave. There are humans and horses buried here, but no Uruks anywhere.
Scouts report several of these burial grounds scattered all over the island. Some of the bones have bite marks on them.
Due to the absence of Uruk remains, we can only assume that Achilleus and his acolytes are behind these massacres.
The Queen and her son were not among the dead.
We await your command.

Noble and loyal,
Sigismund Kubeke
Kritar of the Blood Legion, 13th Company


Kritar,

We must have Kubadai Achilleus. He must pay for his crimes. Bring him to me!
Alive and unspoiled if possible. If not, his head will suffice.
Failure to do so will result in your immediate decapitation.
Be brave.

Alpha Hector, First of his Name
Ruler of the Dominion



Alfa,

Your vain threats do not scare me. Achilleus has shown me the True Path.
We are coming for you!

Sigismund Kubeke
Kritar of the New Blood Legion, 13th Company

Kritar, You worthless worm! I have shown you gratitude and this, this is how you repay me? Whatever Kubadai Achilleus has promised you, he's lying. Congratulations, Kritar. The empty words of a traitor have doomed you. Know this, your troopers lives will be spared if you give yourself up. If not, I will have no mercy upon them or their families. Be forever cursed. Alpha Hector, First of his Name Ruler of the Dominion Alfa, Fool! What is family for those who have tasted eternal life? You will soon see the truth. I will enjoy the honor of taking your essence. Sigismund Kubeke Kritar of the New Blood Legion, 13th Company Kritar, You are dumb as you are blind. May I remind you that there is a continent between you and me? Perhaps, an ocean as well. How are you going to get through all that Dominion territory and all those loyal Dominion troops just to get to me? By the way, you shall feel my wrath soon for I am easily slighted. Achilleus forgot to mentioned that. Fear not, traitor. The Dominion is coming. Alpha Hector, First of his Name, Ruler of the Dominion

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

Chapter Thirty Four




'Beware, you, young traveler! Here be wild humans that still cling to old beliefs.'
-Travels of Ulon the Unworthy



'Beyond the Achadian Fields, across the lands of wild Ly Kans, near the eastern frontier, lies the Sumari Steppe. Bordering Hadea and her mountains, the Mancu Province is the first province to be conquered by Uruks in their vast wars against the Lao Che.
This is evident in the province capital’s name Kalus gim Gurz (Burning Archer). The local population of 13. 816 souls is a mix of Sumari natives and Hadean settlers, who still worship some of the Old Gods. The women around these parts are small in body and feisty in manners. The wine is entirely non-existent.
Locals prefer a mixture of compressed herbs and rice that goes by the name of seka. Many of sleepless nights have I spent because of this accursed drink. However, I still got to finish the chronicles in time.
The Governor of Mancu, Tiberius Divinus is a very large but young Uruk, at only 16 summers of age. Slaughter Shrines can be found in the settlement, built on the bones of defeated Lao Che warriors.
Also, you can visit the Grand Fighting Arena, where Uruks and Ly Kans still fight humans for sport.
South of Mancu is the town of Mundas, neighboring the Demos region to its western side. The population of 4.167 people is kept in check by 3 Ly Kans, 24 Bestiarii gladiators and just 30 Sumari horse archers. Its close proximity to the capital assures no rebellion can happen anytime soon.
Kan Brutus, age 20, is one of the most relaxed Governors of the Dominion.
To the west, the unrelenting traveler finds Kalus Ulog, still a wooden castle and a relic of wars long gone. Here is the summer home of Cerberus Fulk, the Treasurer, famed for his role in forging the Hades Dynasty and bringing its noble descendants back on the throne.
Garrison consists of 138 Hoplites of Hesperos, Hadea & Avernus origin and 94 horse archers, a worthy force keeping in check the usual raids of nomads.
The 901 inhabitants feel safe under Fulk’s rule.
North of Mancu Province is the Sea of Souls. In close proximity to the continent, one can find Gangwa island.
With a populace of 9.771 people, this isle was the cause of the invasion of Huang Che. From here, the Dominion forces set sail to conquer the known world.
The first city to fall to them was Uzg Rufan, the most populous city of Huang Che, with 12. 420 souls living inside its walls. Now trading timber, slaves, amber and wool to the surrounding countryside. It also sends slaves and amber to Gangwa island, by sea. Religion is split between the Serpent Gods (75%) and Animal Spirits (25 %).
Further in the asian continent, the intrepid traveler finds Lag Pil (Broken Arrow) a large town, consisting of 5.703 inhabitants, with governor Ugron, a former berserker maintaining the law and order. Like its sister-cities, Lag Pil trades timber, dyes, furs, amber, fish and wool with Orabor, Song Cho, Uzg Rufan, Woo Kei and Chu Wei. Religion around these parts is predominantly Callistian with 78% of inhabitants making offerings to the Animal Spirits, while 20% believe in their Serpent Gods. A mere 2 % still worship the Sun God.
Next in line is Orabor, capital of Huang Che province. This is the mythical place from which it is said that Thesseus the Merciless invaded Mesocala. Still a fortress, it hosts 9.852 souls and Oddus Tressach, her governor is the holder of the famed Blade of Lao Che, a fine weapon, capable of cleaving a man in two with a single blow. It is the legendary sword of the Khans.
Trade is poor around these parts, but still you can bargain for timber, slaves, wool and some dyes. From Kala Argus, via sea come rich transports of ivory and cotton.
Religion is split, yet again, between the Serpent Gods (67%) and Animal Spirits (33%). People around these parts still hold ties to neighboring Mesocala , to the north, which would explain all this snake worshipping.
Further west is Song Cho, the real, historical starting point of the invasion. Here, was the last Lao Che Khan defeated. One can still find skeletons of elephants on the beach, living testimony of the glory of the Dominion!
A fortress with no governor, it holds 11. 234 people and it trades furs, dyes, amber and fish to Lag Pil and Woo Kei.
By sea, it receives gold, grains, silk and cotton from the Lao Meso, a former Mesocalan Lao Che colony, their first and only. Also, cotton from Tatar Ragnwald, another Mesocalan town, bearing the name of a great general.
From Uzg Gorurz Gortag it gets ample shipments of gold, fish, slaves, silk and tin.
Religion is 43 % Serpent Gods and 36 % Animal Spirits.
Down to the south, begin the unexplored and still untamed lands of the Keruacs, Kajits and Uighurs. The Castle of Woo Kei, surrendered without a fight back in the days of the Conquest, now holds up to 8.076 inhabitans and has no governor. It trades with Song Cho, Lag Pil, Chu Wei and Kama Kura, mostly fish, furs, timber, dyes and amber.
The Serpent Gods are prevalent in this region, making 90% of all believers, with the rest clinging to other faiths. Beware you, young traveler! Here be wild humans that still cling to old beliefs.
The roads are still infested with brigands and rebels who adhere to the old order and still think that the Khans rule Huang Che.
Kama Kura, another town who surrendered without a fight and was allowed to keep its name and religion. It still has a wooden wall, still bearing marks from back in the days when the Lao Che conquered it. Its populace of 7.689 folk enjoys relative peace and trade with Woo Kei and Kyota, mainly consisting of fish, furs, dyes, timber and amber.
Like Woo Kei, the majority of inhabitants worship the Serpent Gods.
Further down south, to the southernmost point of Huang Che, is the southern peninsula of Kyota, with a castle bearing the same name. Sheltering about 3.449 souls, with Tobu Lopo a big, brown, scary Uruk as Governor lording over a meager garrison consisting mainly of Uruk Yar pups and Ly Yar, plus some Reptarii swords and a bunch of Sumari archers, Kyota falls right in line with the Dominion, trading poorly with surrounding cities, the usual stuff of fish, furs, timber, dyes and amber but worshipping Callisto in a vast majority (80%) while the rest believe in other religions.

The entrance into Huang Che is guarded by the large town of Chu Wei, with a populace consisting of 7.175 people, ruled by Cerberus Attila, an Uruk loyal enough to obey an order but capable of rather shameful acts.
The town trades fish and dyes with Lag Pil; furs, timber and dyes with Woo Kei; furs with Kalus gim Gurz and fish with Kalus Ulog.
Also, the sea trade consists mainly of fish exports to Kama Kura.
This is the place where people worship the Serpent Gods 77 %, while 19 % still cling to Callisto and her Animal Spirits.
From here, rocket launchers are built and sold for use all over the Dominion. They were used to great success against the Faustian rebels and during the Vampire Plague when Demos itself was...'


-Ulon the Unworthy exiting Huang Che



-By the time Ulon the Unworthy had reached the continent of Huang Che, he had already traveled the known world. The harsh climate and the dreaded seka had left their marks upon his diminishing health.
Already, in these chronicles, signs of dementia can clearly be seen.

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

Chapter Thirty Five




When Uruks go berserk, their strength increases tenfold.
They become oblivious to any command.
There are some among them who have to be reminded where they are, once the battle is over.

-Xenonius the Last Romuli


The night was cold and damp and filled with corpses.
His blood rage was slowly subsiding. He had killed until he could kill no more! The sounds of battle were dying out, only to be replaced by the soft wailing of the wind. Dying men tell no stories... He heard the panting of a large beast. Moments later, he realized it was his own breath.
'Wolf-gang! Wolf-gang! Wolf-gang!'
Troopers all around him, wet and bloody were shouting that name. He heard it over and over again, at the edge of his subconscious. Who is this person? What does he want from me?
'Sire, the city...'
The adjutant words were cut short as a huge, black hand curled around his neck. The man struggled feebly, his legs shaking to and fro, above the ground.
Before he could crush the man's windpipe, the Uruk realized something. To his own surprise, his fingers stopped applying pressure to their prey.
I know this man! We fought together...
'Dieter Bär ...' he called the mercenary by his name then dropped him like a sack of potatoes.
'Yes...' Dieter coughed, holding his bruised neck. 'At your service, my liege.'
The soldier was struggling to breathe. He was a powerful man, but still, no match for Uruk strength. All around them, there were signs of battle. Burned corpses, broken lances, dead horses. They brought before him the charred body of a knight, still smoldering inside his armor.
'Jens von Wolfsburg, the garrison commander.' Dieter reported. 'Ly Kan crossbows did this to him. Shortly after that, the city fell. I was about to tell you this when you grabbed me...'
'Who is this Wolfgang they're chanting about?' the dark Uruk asked the human.
Dieter could hardly believe his eyes.
'Why... that's you. They're chanting for you! You're their leader! You did this!' the adjutant stretched out his arms.
Wolgang Perseus, a tall Uruk, of strong Teutonic stock, grinned at the news.
The city of Medici had fallen. The Uruks renamed it Drautran Zaboht (Pale Moonlight) after that night they killed all those clergymen.

'I did this...'
He was beginning to remember.
Why did we take this city? What was so important about it?
Slowly, thoughts were coming back inside his mind. He looked around, at his soldiers, at his enemies.
The Teutons. They are strong. and they need to be taught a lesson. We are as far away from Dominion lands as possible. We fight alone.
The realization made his Uruk heart warmer. Knowing that he was at the frontier, fighting for his Alpha, meant so much more to him than his former Teuton origin.
He will take these lands and bring them into the fold. Because that was what they did, conquering and pillaging the weak.
That was the Uruk way.

*

[Alwyn]

Wow! A richly rewarding story of the growing empire of Dominion of the Uruks. I have only read the first few chapters so far and look forward to reading more. The Uruks sound very authentic, which fits well with with the images of them which you use. I enjoy the reactions of the Uruks and humans to each other. The quotes, the images, the re-named cities and the battles all make this a compelling story. The story of Ayyub Tahar is particularly effective, an epsidoe full of pathos. I hope that you will continue this and that, if you do, you will enter the next Monthly AAR Competition (MAARC).

[CapnDan]

Very good story. Very engrossing and memorable. I particularly enjoyed the exploration of Uruk culture and motivations. Where previously I'd never really cared to spend much time either in playing as or modding for that lot, this story of the Uruk Dominion has completely changed my mind and made them into one of my favourite faction types. Nice work.

[Lord of the Drunk Penguin]

Chapter Thirty Six




He's Toke. I'm Toke. We're all Toke.

-Uruk of Toke's One-Thousand


Arandorf, the Red District.
Brothels and taverns, as far as the eye could see.

His heart was drumming hard, under the cuirass but he tried to keep his fear hidden. For a soldier of the New Reich's Army should show only staunch devotion and steel-discipline. But he was scared nonetheless.
The Uruk guards let them in the city, far easier than expected.

Never in his life was he so close to one of these strange brutes. The monster reeked of blood and iron, his breath worse than his bodily odor.
But he grinned nonetheless, putting on the ignorant peasant face he was supposed to be wearing.
'Heilige St. Michael , beschütze mich! * ` was all that he could think in front of those fangs and claws and armor.
But they were clear of the main gate.
So the rag tag team of Faustians, Privateers and former Dominion slaves let loose a general sigh of relief. They were on free soil, inside the Human Enclave, last bastion of the Hispanic barbarians, once a proud people, calling themselves Povos da Hispania.

'Thank the Seven Stars!' Urlich the Squid, an old pirate, yelled. 'They didn't check the cargo! Those fools...'
'Halt deine Klappe!**' he hissed to the miscreant. 'We're not out of the woods yet!'
'Don't worry, Gustav! From now on, it's mostly people we have to worry about!' the massively built brown giant warrior going by the Aztlan name of Yaotl, reassured him.
'That's why I'm afraid of...'
Sure enough, their contact was in the right place, a hooded figure waiting for them by the Bridge of Sorrow. The evening's air carried with it the scent of jasmine flowers.
'Do you have them?' a low, androgynous voice asked.
'Ja, by Gott, we do!' Carl Gustav allowed himself to smile, for the first time in two weeks.
His caravan had reached its destination.
From the faraway regions of Faustian Free States, through the war-torn countryside, hiding in mud and waiting for countless Dominion patrols to pass by, through uncharted territory, they were finally here!
Carl jumped out of the wagon and threw away the tarp covering the weapons. The families of refugees clutched together inside were still trembling from the shock of seeing Uruks up-close.
'Fifty arquebuses, as you requested!' he told his Hispanic connection.
'When the Uruks will come, you'll be ready for them. I would've gotten these out of Hell itself just to make sure you stand a chance against those monsters! Cannons are on their way...'
'Excellent...' the shadowy figured seemed pleased. 'Here's your pay.'
Instead of coin, the specter produced a pistol. Gustav was quicker, pulling the shadow's arm to the side. The flintlock mechanism did not fire, as it was blocked by the Faustian's dagger.
In a moment, an instant, other shadows appeared from the ditches. Mostly Ly Kans and Ly Yars, Gustav thought.Because they are the only ones who appear human...
His opponent spat in his face:
'More of us are coming! More... You've achieved nothing, Vozagog *** !...'
The Faustian captain recognized the Reptarri, even before he unveiled its scaly face.
'Hinterfall! ****'
Gustav's yell back to his mates meant nothing on the streets of Arandorf, where life was cheap and conspiracies extinguished.

*

Not far away from Arandorf, in a small Faustian village, now under Dominion control.
Inside the tavern, Uruks were drinking. Some Uruk Gan were present, but they held their own company, as always.
'Toke is alive!' the deserter roared, in front of everyone. 'I've seen it with mine own eyes! He survived Hoth!'
The others were paying no attention to him, as he was far too drunk to be taken into account.
'It's the truth, I tell ya! Why wouldn't you listen to me?!'
Some bottles were smashed. He was causing a racket. Sure enough, the tavern owner, together with a few other Uruk veterans shoved him out the doors.
Outside, a tall figure stood waiting, in the night.
'Out of my way!'
The drunk warrior tried to break free, but his clumsy gait was halted by the stranger's powerful arm, clutching his throat.
'You talk too much...'
The blade entered the deserter's neck, turning his speech into gargle.
'So, you say you saw One-Eye, yes? He didn't die at the Battle of Hoth?'
The Uruk struck again, this time, in the deserter's broad chest. As the other lay dying, he showed him his face, with his left eye closed forever. Others were approaching, from the shadows. All bearing the same wound, all missing the same eye.

'You're right. He didn't die. He's Toke. I'm Toke. We're all Toke here.'







Translation:

* Holy Saint Michael, protect me! (in german)
** Hold your trap! (in german)
*** Spy (in Black Speech)
**** Ambush! (in german)