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[Thraxas]

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The slate gray stone walls of the temple rose before him like a monolithic monument to some dark god. And that is what Thraxas knew it to be. From all outward appearances, the edifice oozed hostility. Visitors were unwelcome and the doors kept locked. Yet for all its fearful looks, Thraxas was unafraid. This was a home away from home for him; the work he himself had created in a vow to please and pay back his god, Oggaroth. And the only resident of it at last count was a relatively young orc female priestess named Magda Ruk, a self-educated and increasingly powerful necromancer and mage.

He dismounted and climbed the steps to knock solidly on the iron door with a mailed fist. The door opened and he entered. There was no need for his eyes to adjust to the darkness; his ability to see well in darkness he retained as a gift of the daemonic soul that lived within him. "Is anyone here?" he asked, more jokingly than needing to know, for she could not conceal her foul orcish odor any better than any other, nor would she care to.

"Welcome Lord Regent. Come in and be seated. It has been a long time," he heard her say. Seated at a stone table at the back of the main hall, she beckoned him forward.

He shut the door behind him and heard it lock. Removing his helmet, he complied with her request, seating himself in the solitary chair across from her at the table, itself piled high and randomly with the residue of many a feast of human flesh. To his human self, the odor was repulsive, but to his deeper senses, the reek of carnage and human suffering appealed to him like the sweet smell of incense to the worshipper. "Greetings Priestess. How do you fare these days?"

"You did not come to bandy pointless words, Lord Regent. You are tardy in your sacrifices. I have had much mediation to do to offset your blasphemous neglect. What excuse do you offer me for it?"

Thraxas smiled, sitting back in the chair, but close enough to the table to allow one arm to rest easily upon it. "Our god does not suffer excuses, nor do I have one. I have been unavoidably detained as the result of a long and painful kidnapping. I just recently obtained my freedom."

"Hmph!" she retorted. "Let me guess... elves?"

Thraxas nodded. "Heartwood elves who then sold me to the drow. I still do not know what it was all for. I am hoping you could give me insights into it, or a bit of divination, if possible?"

"I think you do not need divination. It is plain to see that they wished you to be out of the way."

"Aye, but why not kill me? Why sell me to drow? They had a golden opportunity to be rid of me and they wasted it. I am unable to fathom their reasoning."

"Then you were not the main target for their devices."

"What do you mean?"

"They did not wish to kill you... as I said, they merely wanted you out of the way, for a time. They wished to do something important without having to deal with any consequences for your murder."

Thraxas stroked his goatee. "They needed to do something. Interesting perspective," he mused. "Are you certain you cannot divine for me?"

"For the right price, perhaps."

"Name it."

"I spend too much of my time seeking sacrifices and working to cover up my trail. You will help me with this from now on. I want one per day. I don't care who it is, human or elf, it means nothing to me. Just bring them here. Our god grows impatient. He seeks power for another return here."

"I can do this. I will not bring humans, however, but elves. Lots of elves."

Magda nodded. "I will expect it then, today will be the first of them."

"And the divination?"

"Tonight. I will seek his counsel tonight. By the time of sacrifice tomorrow, you should have an answer from me."

"Very well," he said as he stood up, preparing to leave.

"You do not wish to eat?" she asked.

He surveyed the carnage on the table. "I must say it is tempting," he fascitiously replied. "But perhaps another time. I have work to do."

She cackled and waved him away.

He departed in search of a suitably expendable elf.
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"If a criminal has what you want, you do business with him."

[Thraxas]

---

As the last of the elvish hearts sizzled upon the sacrificial brazier, Thraxas, impatient as ever, spoke up. "Well, what did you learn?" he asked the blood-encrusted Priestess performing the ritual. Magda Ruk lowered her arms which had been poised skyward and then abruptly ceased chanting.

She turned to him and pointed to the teleport tile in one corner. "Let us speak elsewhere," she commanded. They both descended the top floor, which was reserved for sacrifices to the dark god, and entered the second floor, her private chambers. They seated themselves in stone chairs. A small gargish table separated them.

"My master Og' Garoth sends thee these words:

"At thy right hand lies thy fate,
Of the darkness,
By the darkness,
Pray to learn it none too late.

Watch thy words, tend thy mind,
With thy friends
With their ends
Or of it thy enemy shall surely find.

The path you walk, not at all alone,
One who goes along
One does not belong
In whom hate of you hath grown.

Look there to find your foe,
Be not surprised,
By clever lies,
For then will you finally know."

Thraxas waited for more, but none was forthcoming. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "So he makes rhymes now? Gods he must be bored. Be sure to tell him I advise him to keep his day job."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nevermind. What am I supposed to do with that?"

"Consider it carefully. Heed it. Or do you need an orc female to decrypt it for you?"

Thraxas snarled. "That won't be necessary! I would have preferred a straightforward answer!" His eyes flashed red momentarily.

"And yet you got this. Be happy for it. If you will take time to review it, you may yet come to know its meaning."

Thraxas rose from his chair. "Thank you, priestess. I will be going now."

"Do not forget the sacrifices!"

He bowed slightly. "Of course not."

Then he was gone.
_________________
"If a criminal has what you want, you do business with him."

[Thraxas]

---

Looking out from the castle parapet, Thraxas could see in the distance the sea. As the sun set below its blue horizon, the waters glinted gold and orange highlights, contrasting vividly with the darkening blues and greens. It was a lovely sight, but not one that he could readily enjoy.

"At thy right hand, lies thy fate... with thy friends... one who goes along... does not belong... The words of the prophetic warning echoed in his head.

He became aware of another presence behind him. It was Esric Tal, his drow Factor... his right-hand man... one in whom he had placed considerable trust ever since he took the elf's family, his wife and child, hostage, forcing him into servitude. The elf was intelligent, resourceful, an organizer par excellence, a superb addition to his staff. "What is it, Esric?" he queried, keeping his gaze out to the seascape.

"Sire, I must speak to you of something important," came the reply. Esric's voice was a whisper, as always. He talked as if he never wanted anyone to hear him, or know exactly what his normal voice sounded like.

"Not now," Thraxas replied, waving him away. "I have much to think about."

There was a short pause. "Sire, I must speak with you on this matter. It cannot wait."

Thraxas turned around, scowling. He was not used to having his orders dismissed so lightly by anybody, much less this slave-of-a-drow. "Oh?"

Esric approached him, bowing. "Sire, I have been approached by my kind... drow. They wish for me to serve them, to spy for them against you and the Union."

Thraxas cocked an eyebrow. "The matter is urgent then isn't it? Who were these drow?"

"I have never seen them before. They caught me one afternoon two days ago while I was on my way into Yew to deliver papers to the jailor. They threatened my life if I did not obey, and if I revealed this to you."

"Interesting," Thraxas mused, stroking his goatee slowly. "What information did you glean from them you may tell me?"

"Well, of course I agreed, or else they would have slain me then and there. They would not reveal names of course, but they told me they would find me and not to go looking for them."

"What information were you to get for them?"

"Inventories of Maritime Union supplies and shipment dates. The number of guards in Serpent's Hold and the times of their rounds. When you and other Union members travel, when, where, and for how long."

Thraxas smiled. "You were wise to come to me with this, for if I had found it out on my own... and I would have... you and your family would be joined in a slow, torturous, death."

Esric nodded and knelt. "I care not for myself, but I would do nothing to endanger my family. I knew you would learn of it and so decided to risk all by telling you."

"You have done well. You shall fulfill your vow to them, but you will feed them what I want them to know and no more. Some of it will be factual, some of it will take place but will be contrived only to prove yourself to them. Do whatever they tell you short of murdering me or a Union member. Then, you will help me by learning all you can about them and informing me. Only... me. We shall turn the tables on these vermin and both profit from it." Thraxas smiled.

Esric rose but kept his head lowered. "My lord, when might I see my family again? You promised it would be soon."

"Aye, you are overdue for a visit with them. I will arrange it and send you tomorrow. Now be on your way, unless there is more?"

Esric shook his head. He bowed low and turned away. He could not suppress a slight smile as he walked away.
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"If a criminal has what you want, you do business with him."