Private Tales Lord Willin'

[Markus Glorphain]

The black pits of his eyes were alive when there was fire on the horizon. He watched it and was fascinated by how the trees looked looked as though they were crying. The wind made them sway and he thought it was almost as if they were attempting to shake the flames away. Nature was much the same as man, was it not? When put to the test, every inch of it's body would move to ease the pain or brace for more. He'd seen and rended men in half with his own hands with fingers as strong as oaks. He's torn their flesh with his own teeth and so to see the birds flee from the wrath of his trebuchets was poetry. The cries from the elves on the walls and within them filled his heart to the brim with elation.

It spoke to him. This is what it needed. To be fed. To keep it's presence in this world, it needed to be fed. And did he not love to be strong? Didn't he enjoy the feeling of Lords breaking beneath the weight of his mace or the density of his bare hands?

Was he not whole when it was whole?

He held council with few inside of his war tent and whenever he did, it was always one person at a time. Markus Glorphain's form was otherworldly. He sat beneath armor thick enough to bring a strong man to his knees. In his high backed chair, he must have looked like a mountain of metal. When the Blackshield Captain was led into his temporary abode, he might have seen the wonder in that mountain's eyes as he watched balls of flame fly and break against the bark and stone of that Elven Sanctuary. He practically salivated. His pitch black eyes fell upon the mercenary named Cato as he brought himself to stand. Pulling out his handkerchief, he wiped the side of his own mouth as he made his way slowly closer to his vistor. The Warlord Markus Glorphain stood at least two heads above even tall men. He breathed heavy as though the weight he carried on him was overwhelming him in ways that he didn't care to admit.

"Captain Cato, how good of you to join me," he said as he offered the Mercenary Captain a bloated and massive hand. He stared down at him and looked him in his eyes as he spoke. More like he was attempting to look inside of him than at him. "You will forgive me for summoning you at this late hour. I just enjoy watching the lights when the sun goes down, you understand. Would you care for a refreshment?"

 

[Cato]

"Can't say I've ever said no to a drink," Cato replied glibly as he took the other man's hand. Cato's employer's rarely wished to shake hands and the mercenary wished that had been the case. There was nothing comfortable about trading niceties with a man whose sheer weight could kill you. An air of terror surrounded the corpulent warlord. Cato had flinched the moment he looked at his employer's soulless eyes. There was a depth there that could be comprehended by most and Cato's curiosity ended there. Fear had a strange way of sorting one's priorities.

Cato had taken a number of jobs in his time but regret had already begun to seep. The coin had been second to none, an offer far too tempting despite all the signs. Unfortunately the 'Shields were in a desperate place, more than the usual. Better sense told him to avoid a figure so...robust, and yet here Cato was. A bloody fool.

He would be well-fed at least. A haunch of lamb greeted his tongue not moments later.

"Lord Glorphain, a full stomach is nice but it don't mean much if I'm dead. What is it exactly that you want?" A measure of fear struck the mercenary but he was also not one to waste time

 

[Markus Glorphain]

"Right to business then, Captain?"

A smile spread across his almost featureless face. The visage on his massive cranium was more akin to a baby doll than it was a grown man. Lord Glorphain sat hairless with eyes as black as the void of a dreamless sleep. There was no glint in his eyes when he smiled. It was one that reached his eyes but was missing any kind of spark. Surely it was something swallowed by the hunger that moved about in the core of him and made itself at home in the blackest recesses of his body and mind.

"I will oblige you, Mercenary. I've heard tell of the effectiveness of your unit and I wish to see it put to the test. Before the sun rises in the morning, I'll have torn the walls down on this fortress. The elves on the other side will try to see my heart separated from my chest. I will make you that much richer if you ensure my survival, Captain. And if you impress me truly, then..."

He looked the Captain up and down, the black orbs that looked like beads inside of his thick skull continuing to take in everything about him. Excitement was building up within him and he was hardly afraid to allow his face to show it. Something he'd desired for a long time was finally within his reach. It was one pillaging away. One erasure of a people from Arethil. What were a people in the face of the Nether? They were small and barking defiantly into the face of a void they could never hope to understand.

"I wanted to speak with you. Get a measure of one of the Captains of one of the most esteemed Companies in the world. You won't disappoint will you?"

 

[Cato]

Cato winced at his prospective employer's smile. There was something deeply unnerving about Lord Glorphain in his entirety. A man like that was not supposed to smile. The mercenary had no desire to learn what gave this man pleasure. Something told him it wasn't just a long night in a brothel. Men like Cato weren't meant to understand. Swing your sword, earn your coin; that was the game. No need to make things complicated. That was asking for trouble in this business.

"You seem like a difficult man to impress," Cato replied glibly before turning serious. "We're a rough bunch but our reputation is well-earned." Pride was a foolish thing to have in this line of work but Cato hadn't tossed it aside completely. The 'Shields were known across the continent and that's cause they were damned good at their jobs. He wasn't some coy maiden, this was his life.

The mercenary had not been entirely forthcoming, however. His lot was dangerous, but not overly suited for this type of action. The Third was full of skirmishers, assassins, and spies. They were the irregulars of the Company. Other squads, namely the Second, were comprised of former soldiers and the like. Far more used to escorting nobles. What worried Cato was that Lord Glorphain seemed to be a man who was well-informed. The captain doubted that his employer was not already aware of this fact.

Reason begged him to leave, the coin kept him seated.

"Just to be clear, Lord. My men and I are contracted to protect you. Nothing more. We'll keep the knives off your back but you have your own soldiers," clarified the mercenary. Cato was straddling the precipe with his words but the 'Shields were no one's slaves. Mostly, the captain didn't want to be part of the wholesale slaughter that was going to occur. He had done enough of that. Best to avoid it whenever possible.

Markus Glorphain

 

[Markus Glorphain]

The Glorphain laughed a genuine laugh at the Mercenary Captain's last words as he turned away from him to return to his seat with the high back.

"Captain Cato, you are no fool. You will walk with me through the gates of hell when the time comes. Those of the elder race will do anything in their power to see me killed as well as anyone standing adjacent to me. Because you will perform your duty, you will stare the abyss in the eyes... Aye, I have my own soldiers, Captain. But I am certain we will see what you are willing to do in order to survive such an encounter."

He reached his sausage-like fingers forward to grab a hold of the goblet that sat before him. The warlord drank from it, the smile never leaving his face as he did so. When he sat it down, he dismissed the Captain with a simple wave of his hand.

"Until the walls come down, Captain, hm?... Until the walls come down."

___________________​

Six hours later and they did. The Glorphain sat atop an armored horse with his warhammer resting on his right shoulder. Steppenwolf led the charge of the infantry through the wall that had been bettered and crushed beneath the might of his host. Markus cast a knowing look toward the Blackshield Captain that sat next to him. There was no need for him to say anything. All that needed to be said was written on Captain Cato's psyche. It was what war did to men, was it not? When they trudged through blood and viscera and faced the enemy in their truest form, he would perform the way that Markus desired, he was confident.

"On me, Captain! Baurus! Glenroy! On me! Our objective is the keep! We are to kill the Lord and take his Lady wife into custody!"

She was special, afterall. She and her progeny. There was a reason why the elven sorcerer-lord had taken the three-eyed woman to wife. She had special properties that could prove valuable to him in the long term and he would hate to see them go to waste. He could taste her flesh and fluid in his mouth as he sat atop his horse and watched the fortress burn. Slowly, he began their advance. The crossing of blades and firing of arrows had already begun, but it would not last long. Their last hope at survival had toppled under the pressure of his catapults. Soon, the spirit of their people would be broken.

He'd taste their broken spirit before long.

 

[Cato]

No, I'm a big damned cunting fool. Only a thrice-dumb idiot would have taken this job. He could barely stand being in Lord Glorphain's presence and Cato that was unusual. The mercenary captain served some properly diabolical bastards before but this was something else. He doubted his men would even bat an eye at the thought of serving this man. They didn't care, siege meant there were proper spoils to be had. It wasn't often that one could do some proper pillaging. Cato wasn't unsympathetic to that view but the gods knew he had fucked them.

"Until then, my Lord," the mercenary said, doing the best he could to keep regret from his tone.

Hours and multitudes of corpses later, they had pushed into the city. Cato did not revel in the wholesale slaughter presented before him. Cato had made a point of keeping his lot on a strict leash. No doubt there were a few who might find Lord Glorphain's style of leadership to their liking. A few skirmishes had presented themselves as they pushed into the city. The mercenaries were rarely challenged as his employer's forces were well-organized.

He did not see the massive man to be one to lead from the front but suddenly they were within the midst of the charge.

If this Lord has any sense, he would slit his wife's throat and then toss himself from the highest tower. Cato could only shudder at the thought of what would happen otherwise if his employer attained what he desired.

Markus Glorphain