Zak walked calmly through his domain. This part of the city was his, and he was loathe to let anyone think otherwise. He walked into the brothel and took in the scents. As always, the air smelled of blood, sweat, and other bodily fluids. Most of the men who came here loved taking control over the female species. After all, to take control of those who controlled the council was the essence of satisfaction.
However, Zak did not come here for a petty power struggle that most men came for. Instead, he came for a largely different reason. Granted, he would have some fun, but he came here for business as opposed to fun.
He strode through the hallway, accosted by screams and moans from the adjoining doors. When he arrived at the designated room, he went in and found his female already there. The body was drawn taut on the table, the ebony skin glistening with oils and sweat. Zak smiled as he picked up the claw laying on the table next to the door. Slipping it onto his hand, he took note of the scars on the skin of the exquisite female on the table before him. He smiled. This one was going to be fun.
He approached calmly, dragging a single claw-encircled finger up the thigh of the girl. The body shivered in anticipation, and Zak continued up past the hip and across the stomach. The breasts showed evidence of recent scarring, possibly as soon as a few hours before. Zak grinned. She made not a sound thus far, and Zak was determined to change that before his meeting began.
Moving up to stand next to her head, Zak spoke, "It's a shame such an impressive specimen is stuck in such a seedy establishment. If you are sufficient, I may consider purchasing you for my growing harem."
With a sinister grin, Zak grabbed her neck with his clawed hand, drawing a sharp cry from the girl as a trickle of blood ran down where one of his claw punctured her skin. Drawing his face close to her, he watched the fear build behind her red eyes as he spoke, "This might hurt a little. I won't hold it against you if you scream."
With that he let out a bark of laughter as he went forward with his work. What he called 'work' would be classified as 'torture.' But he didn't care. He took pride in his efforts. After decades, he managed to perfect the art of ripping someone apart and make them feel every single stab of pain. Granted, he usually used his arts to extract information from rival Houses, but no one would be able to fault him for wanting to use his arts for less than accepted uses.
He was just finishing opening the chest cavity when the door opened again. The wails of the girl were shut out of his mind at this point, but the sound of the opening door made his hand jerk, puncturing the heart and killing the girl. Turning toward the door in a rage, he backhanded the contact, "Next time, make sure I'm not in the middle of something, you insolent whelp!"
The contact picked himself up off the ground before saying, "My apologies, master. My employer requested your presence."
Zak turned and spat on the bleeding corpse on the table, "Such a specimen lost due to your carelessness. I should kill you where you stand."
Turning back to the man, Zak smiled yet again, "I know what I will do."
Without saying another word, he strode out of the room, heading toward the assigned room for the meeting. Walking in, he went quietly over to the contact's employer, whispered in his ear, and got a swift nod. Sitting down at the table, the employer spoke, "Kel'nor, come here."
The contact came forward, only to be knocked swiftly unconscious by a blow to the temple. The employer gestured to Zak, "Your payment, my friend."
Zak nodded, "Good. I plan to put this one to good use. Too bad he's a male - and an exquisitely flawed one at that."
The other man shrugged, "Nothing I can do about that, but as long as you get your revenge, all is well."
Sitting forward, the man spoke, "Now, onto business. Are your men in position and ready to move?"
Zak nodded, "Of course, my friend. All I need is a word from you, and the council will be beheaded in one fell swoop."
The other man smiled, "And it cannot be traced back to us?"
Zak shook his head, "I personally gave them the insignias of dead houses. If they fail, they are simply the remnants of houses which fell due to the power struggle of the city and were searching for revenge."
The other man raised an eyebrow, "And these men can be trusted to complete the job?"
Zak smiled, "These men are trained weapon masters and will not fail nor will they give up the order. They loathe the council as much as we do, and will not fail us."
The other man smiled, "Good. See that it comes to fruition. If it doesn't, do not bother returning."
With that, the man stood up and started to walk out. Before he left the room, he turned and said, "Don't forget the fool. I would hate for him to try and give us up."
Zak chuckled and hefted the unconscious man over his shoulder and calmly strode out minutes later.
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Zak stepped out of his workroom. As he closed the door, the agonizing wail slipped out, and Zak chuckled again. He stripped his bloodied robes off and stepped into the pool of water he always kept nearby so he could wash. He was about to close his eyes to relax when a voice penetrated his solace, "Looks like you were having fun, brother."
Zak opened his eyes and sighed, "Do you fail to learn how to announce your presence, sister?"
Sabel was the epitome of drow beauty. Her hair was long and stunning silver, which she always kept in a tightly wrapped bun. This framed a sharp face and fierce red eyes. She was shapely, and never ceased to bring that to attention. - as like now, Zak mused. He wasn't against incest, though he would have chosen a different sister if he had a choice. Still, her white gown was low cut and very ethereal against her ebony skin.
Sabel smiled and responded in her most sultry voice, "Oh, my darling, that is exactly what I just did."
Zak shook his head in amazement as he stood and walked over to her. He wasn't a terrible specimen, himself. His hair was short cropped, the scar on his face flared in a bright blue - a reminder of his magic duel decades earlier. He was strong and powerful. He watched Sabel's eyes flare hungrily as they flicked up and down his dripping body. He lifted her with ease and slammed her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around him and let out a breath of air as he slid into her. She moaned moments later, and he stepped away, saying "Why are you here?"
Sabel licked her lips and asked, "Must I have a reason to come see my brother?"
Zak grabbed a clean robe and slipped it on, "You do when I'm here. What is it?"
She nodded, "Fine. You were gone earlier today. Where did you go?"
Zak let out a bark of laughter, "Since when do I have to explain my actions to you, sister?"
Sabel drew back a hand and slapped Zak across the face. Pain flared in his scar, and he immediately recoiled with a strong backhand, sending Sabel sprawling across the stone. Sabel stood, a fire brewing behind her eyes. She spat angrily, "You would do well to remember the hierarchy of the city, brother."
With that, Sabel turned and stalked out. Zak, who watched her leave with a hunger of his own, chuckled. If only she knew, he thought with a smirk. However, her arrival brought the task at hand back into Zak's mind.
He strode into his - warded - chambers and threw up a couple more to hide his actions. With that done, he opened his spellbook and leafed through to find the spell he planned to use. He read the words until they burned fiercely in his mind's eye. He gathered the components and began chanting. He swirled the powder into the air and brought it together with a flourish.
The center of the sphere turned black and a face appeared within. The face turned to regard Zak before speaking, "Is it time, master?"
Zak nodded, "Yes, Sszin. The council will be convening within the hour, and you will be there waiting. Do what you must, but try and take the council unawares. Do not fail me, or I will find your corpse and make you suffer for centuries."
Sszin nodded, and Zak broke the spell.
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Sszin scowled. He loathed his master - he didn't even know the fool's name, which was all the better to the order. Few knew the names of others, which kept one from inadvertently giving up the order.
But Sszin wanted to personally slaughter the one who is giving his orders. While he knew the importance of this task, he hated being told what he already knew. And so he turned to his men with a scowl. None of them dared speak, for all knew what would happen to the one who did.
Soon, Sszin squashed his anger, and spoke, "We are moving out. Do not forget what you are tasked with. While the others in the order planned this, you are the ones who are given the honor of ripping the head off the beast."
Smiles grew on the faces of the defunct House Goderret. The house had fallen decades earlier, but it was assumed that there were some survivors, so this was the cover the Order of the Broken Rose had chosen for the task.
Sszin allowed the mirth to build for a moment before snapping, "Don't smile yet, whelps."
The smiles drooped quickly and Sszin spoke again, "The task you have been given is the hardest task any of the order have ever undergone. You will be fighting a dozen of the strongest females in the entire city. Fail, and the Hells themselves will not have seen the fury that will be rained down upon you from both the council and later the order elders. Fail, and your free lives are over. Your corpses will never be allow rest, and your soul will be trapped in an eternity of pain and agony. Fail, and you shall never be free."
Looks of horror appeared on the faces of the two dozen men. Sszin continued, "We outnumber the council by better than two to one, yet two hundred to one would be nothing if the council is able to react to the attack. We shall rely on stealth, and speed. The council must not be able to answer our assault. We have 10 seconds. We must not fail. We. Are. HOUSE GODERRET!"
With that, the men cheered and moved to the council chambers without another sound.
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Zak paced in his room, holding the stone in his right hand. Only one other such stone existed, held by Sszin. Only he knew the activation word, and when spoken, the corresponding stone would warm, signaling the end of the council. When this happened, Zak would call on his personal contingent of guards to seize control of his house.
Myneld held renown for being the home of the most skilled mages in the entire city, every single one answered to Zak, and none could match his power. Being the first Weapon Master Archmage in centuries, Zak commanded respect and fear with his very presence.
And then suddenly what he awaited happened. The stone in his hand warmed, and Zak's heart leapt. He knew the elders would signal in moments following the loss of the council to tell him - and their other pawns - to swoop in and take control of the ruling houses. It would be a glorious day. The strongest houses in the city beheaded by an unknown source which was so powerful to command the allegiance of the Archmage of the city.
He heard a voice resound in his room - only the order master could get by his powerful wards - telling him to move before the houses could respond to the slaughter in the council chamber. He wasted no time. He sprinted to his personal barracks; he hand chose the strongest in the house guard to become his elite strike force - he had many enemies within the city, and having his own strike force was something many paranoid mages did.
He had briefed his loyal men that he would soon call upon them for the most important task in their lives, and to be ready. He did not tell them the details of the task, but that would come now. The men rushed out in full battle regalia and stood arrayed before their archmage. He spoke quickly, "We will be striking a powerful blow against the city hierarchy with this operation."
His men nodded and spoke as one, "We stand before our master, ready to give our lives so he may live."
Zak smiled, "Good. We shall be wresting control of the house on this night, and we shall kill all who oppose us. The council is dead, and it is up to us to finish the job."
With that, Zak moved quickly through the ranks, his men taking up march behind him. He ordered men to sweep every room, with orders to take prisoners of those who do not fight. Zak, meanwhile, walked with purpose to the throne room. His wizened mother would still sit atop the famed throne of bones. It was given - taken, really, but semantics mattered little - by the rulers of the Abyss centuries earlier by the patron of the house.
Zak threw open the doors and walked in with 20 men at his back. Arrayed before the old matron were six of her seven daughters, the priestesses. Sabel was the only one who spoke, "I knew you would try something foolish, brother. You shall fail in this attempt, and whomever put you up to this shall fail as they have always."
Zak laughed heartily, "Have you not heard yet, sister? I suppose not, but it is of no matter. The council has fallen. All twelve were slain recently, and I'm simply allied with the winning side. I don't desire to hurt you, dear sister. I would very much love it if you would join my side as my queen, in fact. I merely wish to obliterate the wizened old fool sitting calmly behind you."
Zak spat on the floor and met the eyes of the crone. She said nothing, and Zak smiled again, "Look at her, dear sisters. She knows she is beaten. She is resigned to her fate, a day I thought I would never live to see. It sends shivers down my spine to see it."
Taking a step forward, Zak held out a hand to Sabel, "Come to me, and you shall see riches you shall never see being the youngest daughter. Your eldest is slain. The rest shall fall as surely against me. You alone know my power, and know that these few cannot hope to match it."
Sabel gulped, the melodic words washed over her. She could feel their magic take hold, yet she was reluctant to fight it. She stepped forward slowly, step by step to stand before Zak. Without thinking, she dropped to one knee before him.
With that, Zak let fly with the spell he was working while Sabel moved forward. The fireball was imbued with power as it flew over Sabel's shoulder and slammed into the matron upon the throne. The explosion threw the five women flying forward. They were instantly caught between the explosion and the wall Zak erected behind Sabel. They were incinerated instantly, and the fires dissipated quickly.
Sitting upon the throne was the matron, unharmed and cackling. She stood and moved to stand before Zak. She spoke calmly, "Your power is indeed unmatched. My daughters were unable to stand against it. However, why don't you stand and face me alone? Only then shall we determine who among us is the strongest."
Zak chuckled, "Oh mother. You believe me a fool. Only a fool would believe that one such as you would not take precautions against magic. However, you fail to realise that I realised just this possibility."
With that said, Sabel fluidly pulled out a dagger and slid it into the old crone's heart. Zak smiled, "Only a fool would believe that one's power is strong enough to withstand all one's children."
The crone dropped to the ground, and Zak knelt, "I could smell the wards surrounding you. As I spoke, I tried finding a way around them. And then I felt it. It was a ward against men - me, in particular - and your eldest three daughters. You stole pieces of their hair while they slept, and used it. However, you failed to believe that your youngest would somehow get past the daughters above her, so you neglected to take precautions against her."
The crone gasped her last breath, and Zak chuckled, "Good night, mother."
With that, he stood and moved to sit upon the throne, his men still standing behind him, in awe about his power. Sabel came forward and took up a perch on Zak's lap. Zak waved his men off, and smiled at Sabel. She turned and peered into his eyes, and Zak said, "Now we can feed that hunger."
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The figure stood before the bowl, and a sinister laugh escaped his parted lips. He turned to a large silhouette and said, "All is as it should be, milord. The fool thinks he can control the entirety of the city, and the 'order' has taken the steps necessary to ensure the demise of the entire plane."
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