The emissary caravan has arrived on the shores of Zharr Britania and @Jasko 's Emissary has worked his way over to @Oxymandias
Opportunities
Like the forbidding plains stretching endlessly around its black
battlements, the Tower of Jaskorh was never silent. The very earth was shaking
from volcanic eruptions and met by a constant barrage of roaring thunder,
as steam powered hammers beat unyielding metal into shape in the many
levels of the Daemonforges at the heart of the Ziggurat. At the top of the
pyramid was the Temple of Hashut, a pale comparison to the grand shrine
in Zharr Naggrund, which it so desperately tried to emulate.
Sorcerer-Prophet Alkanash had toiled for days in the inner sanctum,
a large cauldron with boiling magma fuelling his ritual. With the dark
secrets unveiled to him by the Great Bull, he had bound a daemon from the
netherworld in brazen chains. Bereft of the magic he could have wrought
with the bleeding hearts from the salamanders he had foolishly sent that
imbecile Wilham to acquire, his binding spells would burn out quickly. But
he had learned enough. Someone was coming. And with him an opportunity.
Maybe many opportunities, for someone like him.
The Destroyer. Deathbringer. Tormentor. Titles the other Castellans
in the Tower of Jaskorh strived for. A merciless society breeds mistrust and
treachery, and a desire to gain any advantage possible in the brutal fight
for power, and be it only a fancy moniker. Barbakul did not care for titles.
His name alone was enough to incite terror in anything roaming the Dark
Lands and beyond. And now the mighty Alkanash had summoned him to the
Temple. He moved past the ranks of Dawi Zharr on his way, only nodding in
respect to the Bull Centaurs, living incarnations of Hashut’s grace,
guarding the sanctum doors. Barbakul had expected to be called before
the cabal of Sorcerer-Prophets, but Alkanash was alone with someone
unknown to him. The stranger cut an imposing figure, clad in an antique
armour in the colours of ancient Uzkulak, his head hidden behind a horned
helm. He had traveled a long way to the far-flung Tower of Jaskorh.
Alkanash introduced him as Vzrakesh Deathscourge, emissary from
King Zagor of Uzkulak, and Barbakul saw a glint in the eyes of the
Sorcerer-Prophet as he relayed his message. Lord Astragoth himself had
decreed that an alliance was to be formed, a Great Unification, and that
the world shall tremble before the might of the Uzkul-Dhrath-Zharr once
more. But not all could be trusted in the fragmentary empire of the Dawi
Zharr. And so trusted emissaries should be sent from one of the chosen
rulers to the other, carrying with them the sacred amulets, forged by
Halgar Hellgaze, which would seal their pact and bing their fates together.
Barbakul took his orders without comment, for his was not the
position to question his master’s commands. He would assemble his
Immortals, his oath-bound companions from countless campaigns in his
bloodied past, and set out to the domain of the next ruler to be added to
the Great Unification. In a chest around his back he carried the messages
and tokens from Lord Astragoth himself, Halgar Hellgaze and now Alkanash
of the Tower of Jaskorh.
The Great Unification
Day 1: Honoured one. By your command, we have set out on
our path. We are marching in the shadow of a throng heading
for the Gates of Zharr. None shall question our journey. Praise
Hashut.
Day 4: Honoured one. We have let ourselves fall behind and
departed from the route to the Gates of Zharr. The plain is in
turmoil. Large forces are gathering in remote places, their
colours shrouded in mist. By your command, we take detours as
not to arouse suspicions. Praise Hashut.
Day 8: Honoured one. Our journey is no longer a secret, as
you suspected. But our adversaries are foolish, and they have
shamed us by remaining hidden and sending their menial slaves
to ambush us. None have survived. Praise Hashut.
Day 13: Honoured one. Our enemies have turned the very
land itself to fighting us. Mighty must be their desire that I
shall not reach my destination. But I will cast down their hopes
as we have crushed anything they have thrown at us. Their
identity remains hidden, but their plans are still foiled. Praise
Hashut.
Day 21: Honoured one. It is the night before we reach our
destination. The message is safe. Praise Hashut.
Next up: @GhraskDragh