Private Tales Of Behemoths and Bastard Princes

[Argath]

Blight Orcs. Industrious creatures, with a certain rage and acidity that made them wonderful soldiers. However, there were some jobs that they just couldn't be trusted with. The slaying of a behemoth for one. Scouts reported the beast had come from the Ixchell Wilds, had trampled one of Molthal's outer outposts of blight orcs, and was anywhere from twenty-five to thirty-five feet tall at the shoulder. Argath volunteered to fell the beast, but Menalus thought Naghi the better choice for the job. After discussion both were sent, with a feast promised in honor of whoever gave the killing blow. He loved to play those sort of games.

Others of the Bastard Circle would have been offended. Menalus's challenges were often less to honor the better and more to cull the herd after all, but Argath had little qualms. He had intended to speak with Naghi privately for some time now. It was rare that two of Menalus's sons had an opportunity to speak without the threat of wandering ears. When the two were a few days ride from Molthal Argath held up two fingers then pointed them at the ground, spinning them around and forming a purple circle around four meters in radius, with Argath at the epicenter.

"A spell of silence." Argath explained. "No sound in this circle will escape." The sorcerer had his suspicions that he and Naghi were of a similar mind, but such things would be considered treason . "Naghi, I believe the growth of Molthal has become stagnant. Would you agree?" He broached the subject delicately, leading in slowly.

 

[Naghi]

Naghi came to a stop, his thunderous steps ceasing as Argath cast one of his little spells and shrouded them within silence.

The Half-Giant glanced down at his younger brother, a frown flickering over his face.

Was this some sort of trick? Had father learned of his gathering forces? He had been careful, never letting word slip into the Blightlands and instead doing his work in the Westlands, beyond the reach of the spine and the eyes of Menalus.

The question was more than a little suspicious, and Naghi couldn't help but presume this was some sort of plot by their father to find the truth. "Father has not called us to war in some time."

A political answer, but a truthful one.

"His rage at Gerra's failure was not what it would have once been." Naghi knew that rage more than most, upon his great failure the Fire-Giant had ripped open his chest and granted him with the scar that now set into his skin.

His hand shook slightly as though he were about to touch the scar, but he quickly forced it not to move.

Still, the words were guarded, as they always had to be.

 

[Argath]

"I would not know." Argath replied. Younger than both Naghi and Gerra, he had not seen their father more rageful than when he banished their brother for failing to secure Belgrath.

"But my elders would agree his rage has lessened. Truth be told, this is less concerning to me." He waved off the concern. Gerra's banishment could present issues, sure, but the threat of one of Molthal's sons against the Bastard Circle, let alone their father, was of less concern to Argath. In fact, it was perhaps to his benefit.

"Our father designed the walls which guard our city. Conquered the blightlands until none would question his rule. Yet we still have not capitalized on Belgrath's decline, nor tamed the Ixchell Wilds." Argath sighed. He was careful to phrase his words. They could be taken to highlight Menalus's apathy, or simply as the bravado of Argath's youth.

"Some of our brothers believe he has machinations waiting to come to fruition." He spoke truthfully, but his tone cast doubt. "Do you?"

 

[Naghi]

A frown flickered over his lips, and he couldn't help but hear the voice that this was all some sort of trap.

"No." The great Half-Giant said, his voice like a rumble of a shivering mountain. "I believe he has become complacent."

He decided to test his brother in turn. Would Argath lash out when he spoke of Menalus' weakness? Would he betray himself? Perhaps this was all genuine. It was not entirely out of the question, just unlikely.

"Father has what he wants." He glanced back towards the Blightlands.

"Whores, wine, and a people to worship him." Naghi spat on the ground. "He has become slovenly."

 

[Argath]

As with Argath, Naghi's words were carefully measured. They had to be, as any inklings of treason were dealt with quickly, and by the sword. His insults were disguised as truths, observations. Ones that would have incited anger, perhaps even challenged from their brothers, but not threat of execution.

"He seems content to have our nation serve an army for hire. We should be growing our borders. Lifting the curse off our lands. Instead we barter the blood of our soldiers for coin and concubine." Argath agreed with Naghi's conclusions, the boldness of his words growing.

"I cannot help but think that Molthal should be . . . more." He left a thread for Naghi to pull.

 

[Naghi]

Naghi glanced at the circle that Argath had cast around them eying it wearily for a moment before he drew himself up.

Of his numerous siblings he had always been one of the largest. He stood taller than most, and his age meant that he held a seniority over most. Argath was one of the younger, and even now he could see the ambition in the boys eyes.

Ambition that Naghi shared. "Yes."

The agreement came slowly, but it came all the same.

"Father has lost his way." Both of them were trying to be careful, trying not to damn themselves. "That is why I will take his throne."

Naghi prepared to crush his younger brothers skull, just in case his reaction was not a pleasant one.

 

[Argath]

"Shall you?" Argath's voice spoke of amusement. "I suppose that could work." Argath mulled the thought in his mind. He had known this might be the case. No one with ambition would want to rid father of his throne without taking his seat. Argath of course preferred the seat for his own, but duke of the new Molthal under Naghi still held more promise than where he was now.

"Slovenly though he may be, Father will not go without a strong fight. What's more, our brothers will also make a muck of things." Argath had no qualms slaying legions of Blight Orcs, nor besting his brothers, but many of his brothers at once? A difficult task.

"To that end I have been putting into motion certain . . . diversions to split his forces." Argath let his words hang, and gave Naghi a chance to respond, but held ready to summon magic. If his Brother was really playing a game for their Father, he would make his move now.

 

[Naghi]

"Our siblings will die one by one as they stand against me." Menalus could unite them, force them to push back, but he doubted that it would come to that.

Their father was not a crafty man. He was intelligent, yes, powerful, yes, but crafty? No. Menalus preferred to take a problem and smash it into a thousand pieces with a single stroke rather than actually think about how to defeat it.

That was his true problem.

"What is your diversion, brother?" He asked, taking a step forward. "Tell me and I may allow your absence on the row of spikes outside Molthal."

Naghi was not yet ready to reveal himself, nor the army that he had been building.

 

[Argath]

"Save your bravado my brother." Argath chastized Naghi , before pulling a map out if his pocket and presenting it to his brother.

"Tensions are riding between Vel Anir and a rising Empire in Amol Kalit. A seige at Cregsbend Castle a few months ago has highlighted the highlighted the openness of the land between them. I expect war to break in the next few few seasons."

"Vel Anir will not deign to hire the services of Molthal, but I think the Empire could be persuaded." He neglected to mention his spies heard reports it was lead by their brother Gerra. "Molthal's forces use newly discovered portal stones to join the battle against Vel Anir, leaving Father more vulnerable. We slay father, and any of our brother who do not bend the knee, and by the time the rest of Molthal's forces return home we already taken over."

 

[Naghi]

Many of his siblings considered Naghi a simple brute. They thought him nothing but raw strength and power, but he was so much more.

He had his own spies.

Naghi knew of Gerra's little Empire in the sands, the place that his little brother had built for himself in some vain attempt to gain fame. He of course saw it for what it was, a desperate plea for attention and acclaim that he could not achieve back home.

His hand raised to slowly stroke through the lengths of his beard. "You assume that Father would give his army to the little runt."

Naghi kept his words vague, but he knew Menalus would never send his armies to the desert unless it meant conquering what Gerra had built.

Though, that didn't mean the idea didn't have merit.

"But there is another path." He rumbled quietly.

 

[Argath]

Argath sighed.

"If Father knew Gerra ran the Empire in the sands he'd have already sent a force to Amol Kalit, if only to embarrass him." Argath countered. Father's rage might have dulled with time, but not so much as to leave a disgraced runt claim to be a god.

"But do go on." He pushed slightly, aiming to hear an inkling of Naghi's plot.

 

[Naghi]

Nahgi could not fault that particular claim. Menalus' temper would not have allowed him to suffer one of his sons claiming the mantle of a God.

Yet there was never truly a way to tell what the Fire-Giant knew or not. Their father had lived longer than any of them, and with that age came a certain knowledge that his sons could only hope to emulate. That was why he'd been so careful.

Discounting the old man was dangerous. "Rebellion."

He stated simply.

"Tell me brother, do you travel through the Blightlands?" Glowing red eyes narrowed. "Do you see the people our father claims to rule?"

 

[Argath]

Argath scoffed at Naghi's question.

"The Blightlands are not a unified nation, but a smattering of tribes that father collects tribute from." Argath replied. "They are as children, fighting among themselves for claims of land, food, and slaves that pretend to be unified when they see Molthal's flag." Argath's annoyance would be obvious. The heeded the call out of fear when the time came, but the Blight Orcs were no dedicated to the nation. Argath saw it as a massive failure of their father, and his so called 'Favored Four'.

"Do you think any of them has the stomach to fight in a rebellion? My experience has been that even the bravest of orc chieftains tucks their tail between their legs at the first sign of a giant."

 

[Naghi]

He smiled. "That is the problem with all of you, little brother."

Naghi shook his head.

"You look down on them, think that they have no potential, no use." By most rights he couldn't blame Argath for that thinking. A few months ago he would have agreed, but some of his followers had opened his eyes to the truth.

It was not always that the little people couldn't stand, it was simply that they had nothing to prop them up.

Yet here were two sons of Menalus, here were two of the few people in this world that could resist and fight back against Menalus.

"It is not a matter of stomach." He told his little brother. "But hope."

A wide grin split his beard. "It is not that Blight Orcs that must be pushed, but the nomadic tribes. Those that father has all but eliminated, those that hate, despise, and revile him. They must be granted a vision, a sight where they are lead by a herald. One that could bring down the 'Great Menalus'."

 

[Argath]

Argath kept silent as Naghi spoke of hope. He had not considered the nomads, as he thought them too disorganized and sparse to form a true force. He had his doubts on Naghi's machinations, but was willing to entertain anything that lead to Menalus's destruction.

"The nomads may be more pliable to our cause, but there use presents issues. Their unification under a banner of hope aside, simply transporting enough food to support their congregation is a task." The farmless state of the Blightlands was something that caused Argath ire. Their reliance on raids for food limited the growth of their armies, the strength of their men. It would be the first task for Argath to work after their father was slain.

 

[Naghi]

Naghi nodded his head.

The logistics was really what presented a large prob for any campaign in the Blightlands. Fighting Menalus was not an easy task, their father had thought out his chosen home well. A frown touched the Half-Giants face.

"There are obstacles." Naghi stated plainly.

There would always be something in the way, but excuses were all well and good. They could either try or they could stand around making up reason as to why it wouldn't work.

"But they need not succeed." He reminded his brother. "If they take a few of father's outposts, cut into his forces, that is all I need."

The army he had been building these lastonths would do the rest.

 

[Argath]

"I see." Argath responded to Naghi's comments. From what Argath understood the nomads were not numerous enough to divert a significant enough portion of Molthal's forces. Naghi wasn't telling him everything. He wondered what secrets his brother held.

"A strong enough figurehead to rally the nomads. Raids on the outer outposts. If Gerra does not wish to aid in the displacement of Molthal's forces, one of my agents could let his position slip to one of our brothers. A few of them would see it as an opportunity to gather honor and take a company, if not a legion. A trip to their borders will take around a month by Portal Stone." Argath voiced further speculation on weakening their fathers forces.

"How soon do you want to move?" Argath asked, thinking on how he might cull the herd of their brothers.

 

[Naghi]

"Father will be suspicious if things move too quickly." That was something he'd already learned of Menalus.

His first attempt at betrayal had been found out, and of course it had lead to another punishment. That had been nearly twenty years ago, before Argath had even been brought into this world.

Naghi had learned his lessons in that time.

"Everything must appear natural." He told his sibling. "We must sow as much discord as possible, find others who will help."

For a second the Half-Giant considered, then added. "Perhaps the dwarves can be called upon as well."

Then later crushed.

 

[Argath]

"The dwarves of Belgrath could certainly be motivated to action after Gerra's assault." He responded. Historically the dwarves were less timid than say, the elves. Inciting a counter-attack wasn't unprecedented. "Their assistance could be garnered through promises, or incited from within." Argath offered. He had been working lately on some illusion magic. It was mainly for the purpose of deceiving and manipulating other members of the bastard circle, but perhaps with some work he could appear as a dwarf.

"Depending on how the final confrontation is waged, it could also weaken their immediate position in the region." Argath mentioned. The tricky things about civil wars dealing with the reduction in force afterward. Any assistance from other nations would not only lower the casualties of Argath and Naghi's sympathizers, but also incur their own loss. A win-win for the after years.

 

[Naghi]

Naghi nodded.

The dwarves would have to be incited one way or another. He very much doubted they would accept any promises from either himself or Argath. They were sons of Molthal, and after what Gerra had done it would be enough to shove off any suggestion.

That much he was sure of. "There is one more group who may benefit us."

Naghi could not remember their names, though he had met one of their number in the north. A village had been cursed, and this fellow had known quite a bit about the situation. His witch, Nina had been there as well, but she was now with his army.

"Northerners, raiders from the Tundra." Savages, but useful. "They have haunted the coastal villages for years. I believe they could be assembled to help us quite easily."

 

[Argath]

"The shifters?" Argath responded curiously. He had heard of them, but not of any issues they had with Molthal. Given the lack of crops and farm beasts the Blightlands were a poor target for raids and pillaging. He'd heard tale they were humans that could shift into bears who took to the seas, but that was about the extent of his knowledge.

"I'll make it a point to head east and pay them a visit." Argath responded. Seeing the shifters could bring him opportunities to learn from them and negotiate, but more importantly he wished to see their boats. How were they constructed, how did they sail? Establishing ports could be a way to bring new wealth to Molthal.

"Shall we discuss this further along the way?" Argath asked, bringing their task back to conversation. The behemoth was still a task that needed handling, despite the lack of import in comparison to their conversation. He hoped to see Naghi at work. Argath would need strong arms for the task to come.

 

[Naghi]

He nodded. "The Shifters, and those beyond."

Naghi himself had seen them on the north coast, though there was talk of them delving deeper as of late. Such things were not his responsibility, but he could not help overhearing the conversations within the Great Hall of Menalus.

With just a simple nod Naghi turned back onto the path, his fingers still wrapped around the axe as they began to walk. The air seemed to almost still, as if expecting some great fight.

There was no sounds of birds, no animals moving, everything was silent in the impending massacre.

"Father will expect this." Naghi mused.

Perhaps not betrayal exactly, but the old Fire-Giant must see something coming. He was no fool after all.

 

[Argath]

“If father were not clever he would have been stabbed in the back ages ago.” The circle of silence would follow them as they walked. “Dividing his attention across various fronts will be far more effective than simple deceit.” Naghi had not revealed all of his cards, just as Argath had not revealed his, but their strategy was in essence the same. Divide father’s forces, and thus his children, across multiple fronts. Attack him directly during the chaos. Call off the fighting afterwards.

Far easier said than done.

The air around them slowed. It was not something an ordinary man would sense, but all of Menalus’s sons were trained from birth to be warriors, both by the sword and in the court. It was the signal of change, the calm before the storm. The beast was near. Out in the distance a crack could be heard, the splitting of dead wood. Then a terrible roar. Argath would snap his fingers, and the purple aura around them would fade.

"Seems the time has come." Argath responded, and discs would materialize in his hands around a foot in diameter. He would begin rushing towards the beast, throwing the magic discs and materializing more in his hands as he got closer.

 

[Naghi]

As his little brother ran off to face the creature Naghi simple glazed up towards the great beast.

He'd never quite seen anything like it before. It reminded him of a wingless dragon, though it's size was beyond even the beast that he'd slain in the mountains. It's great lumbering form seemed to recoil in delay as it was struck by Argath's attack, the beasts jaw opening to let out a tremendous roar.

The ground itself seemed to shake, and before Naghi could move the creature lashed out towards where his brother ran.

A massive claw went soaring through the air, striking low towards the other half-giant.

Naghi let out a quiet curse, and then broke out into a sprint in the other direction of where Argath had ran. His steps thundered in the wood as the behemoths massive claws came down to sunder his sibling.

 

[Argath]

Argath was used to seeing the discs he conjured cleave throught platemail-laden soldiers. When they impacted the Behemoth however, they simply lodged in a few inches causing the beast a brief recoil. The carapace was unlike anything Argath had ever seen. The giant cursed, glancing to his side to see what method of attack Naghi came at the beast with to find he hadn't joined Argath in battle.

Shit.

The beast swung one of it's massive arms at Argath, bringing it's claw down like a sharpened tree trunk unto his skull. Argath materialized a spear as large as he could and planted it in the ground, aiming it to stop the beast's advance like spearmen stopped calvalry. The creature's hand plunged into the spear, and the creature let out a cry of pain before the spear snapped and Argath was thrown backwards. The sorcerer landed thirty feet away on his back, and fought to raise himself to a stand. The beast roared and came after him. He hadn't even put a dent in it yet.