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[Thraxas]

---

Thraxas glanced into the long mirror in his bed chamber that was so very fond of telling him how pathetic he looked; it being supposedly haunted by some obnoxious apparition. He did so as a matter of course. Being a hopelessly vain man, used to making public appearances, he could not help himself. This time, however, he glanced back and stared. Upon his forehead, spaced widely apart on both sides, protruded twin nodules the size of walnuts.

"What in the grim hades?!" he exclaimed, appalled by the sight. He reached up and felt of them, running his fingers around their circumference, making sure his eyes did not deceive him. "What devilry is this?"

The circlet he habitually wore barely concealed them, as he placed it on his brow. He finished grooming himself and hastened to visit his favorite priestess...
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"If a criminal has what you want, you do business with him."

[Thraxas]

---

He arrived at the nearby temple he had erected in honor to his bloody god and found the object of his search on the second floor, her personal chambers. She, Magda Ruk, was seated in front of a square table, gazing intently into a crystal ball that sat upon it. Flames crackling in the hearth on the north wall were the only sound to be heard other than the wheezing of her inhaled breath. The reek of her foul, orcish, stench, blended horrifically with the putrescence of decay and blood which perpetually pervaded the atmosphere of the place. It would have made it uninhabitable for mere humans, but not for him. He did not hesitate to approach her to interrupt her reverie.

"What do you make of this, priestess?" he asked, as he tossed back the hood of his robe and removed the circlet he wore. The two horns were quite apparent even in the dim glow of the firelight.

Magda's head bobbed once and it turned his direction. Her eyes opened slowly as a malignant scowl replaced a visage of slumber. "You dare intrude into my home like one of those annoying brigands?! Have a care!" she snarled as she pointed a finger at him. "In Sar!!"

Tough as his magic resistance was, the spike of pain shot through him like a searing thunderbolt, knocking him backward, nearly to the floor. He recovered quickly and only barely stopped himself from casting a spell of his own at her. As the pain diminished slowly, he composed himself and held up one hand to stop her. He came for information, not to fight. "All right. I guess I deserved that, but you might wonder why I am acting this way. I *do* have cause!"

She lowered her arm and stood up. "Come closer."

He walked to within a few feet of her and stopped. "I come to you about these," he said, showing her the horns.

A cackle escaped her chapped lips.

He frowned. "I do *not* think it is funny."

She sat back down and motioned for him to do so as well. He pulled a chair from a corner of the room and obliged. "Well? What do you make of it? Is this some kind of absurd joke he's playing, or what?" he asked.

She shrugged. "He has told me nothing of it, but I can guess."

Thraxas leaned back in the chair. "Say on."

"Your soul is that of a devil; your flesh of human. It is natural that the flesh should some day unite with the soul. You are becoming what you are. You should be proud of it, not worried."

He sat up quickly. "I cannot afford that... to be seen this way! Humans and daemons are eternal enemies. If I am becoming what I am in soul, all will know the secret I have kept hidden all these years. It cannot be thus! What can I do?"

"It may not progress far. It may pass in time. Cover it up."

"You are certain it is not the god cursing me for some reason?"

"None of which I am aware. The sacrifices go well enough. You send enough elves to me to pacify him."

Thraxas stood up. "Ask him about it for me. I will bring extra elves as payment. Call on me when you have a reply, and I will come."

"The elves first," she demanded. "Twenty of them. No less."

"So be it."

"Twenty if he responds."

"Very well."

Thraxas placed the circlet on his head and then covered it with the hood of his robe. He cast a spell of Recall and was gone.
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"If a criminal has what you want, you do business with him."

[Thraxas]

---

Rounding up loose elves for sacrifice was easier than one might think. Certainly there were the derelicts... the impoverished, homeless, who lived within the confines of Yew, but those had been used up a long time ago. Thraxas' favorite spot was the brigand fort south of Yew, where he could capture all the elves he wanted while no one cared or was the wiser for it. This he had been doing for some time now. He simply put normal elvish clothes on them and passed them off to Magda as "Heartwood" elves. He knew she couldn't tell the difference, but he hoped Oggaroth would not either. The god had always preferred the innocent over the chaotically evil, for obvious reasons, but mass disappearances of the innocent, human or elf, invariably led to suspicion and trouble with outsiders and the law.

Hence it was not too difficult to attack the fort and incapacitate forty of them in groups of ten. Magda spent the better part of a day sacrificing them one by one until she was finished.

Thraxas, seated upon the bleached-bone throne atop the temple, looked on as the last elvish head and heart were cast into the burning coals of the sacrificial brazier. A puff of green smoke shot upward, signifying the god's acceptance of the offering. At that, Thraxas stood, ready to take his leave. "Send word when you have something to tell me. I shall be at the castle."

Arriving there, he went into his office and, forgetting himself, took off the circlet, laying it on the table. He sat down and began pouring over letters and papers that required his attention.

His factor, Esric, noted his arrival and entered the office unbidden as was his custom. "Sire, I have word that..." he stopped in mid sentence as Thraxas turned to look at him. From the direction of Esric's gaze, and the shock on his face, he knew what the dark elf had seen. He turned his head quickly and placed the circlet on his head. "What did you say?" he asked.

Esric hesitated. "I... uhmm.. the Constable of Yew wishes to meet with you soon. What shall I tell him?"

"Tell him tomorrow morning, early... here." Thraxas pretended to be focused on reading a document.

"I shall," Esric replied. "And, milord... please do not think it forward of me to ask what happened to your head? Was it an accident? Did I see lumps?"

"Yes, I was not paying attention and fell halfway down the stairs this morning, before you got up. Smacked my face against the wall and the floor. Quite a tumble, but no other harm done apparently."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, I will be all right. It is just embarrassing to be seen this way. You understand, don't you?"

"Of course, sire. Is there anything you need?"

"No, you may go. Attend to the aquarium and see that Malenthalus has my supper ready shortly."

"As you wish, sire." Esric bowed and departed. He was now convinced that his suspicions were true, and that the information would be useful to his true master; the one who would help him obtain his revenge.
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"If a criminal has what you want, you do business with him."

[Thraxas]

---

"Oh, it's you," Thraxas commented dryly as he turned to see who it was entering the doorway behind him. He was seated at his dais, a cheap imitation of Lord British's own. The table at which he sat was a jumble of parchments and official looking documents.

Magda Ruk, his visitor, stopped and glared at him crossly. "I can go if you like?"

Thraxas took the edge off the situation by smiling and shaking his head. "No, no, you've come this far. Have a seat."

The orcish priestess refused. "I can stand. What I have to say won't take long."

Her words were followed by a hard scowl appearing on Thraxas' face. It had been quite some time since their last meeting, and he had begun to think she was not going to tell him anything at all. He had considered visiting her again, but his schedule had been quite full and there was no time. Now, here she was, no doubt intending to give him the information he sought from his god. However, her introductory words did not forebode well. "You have bad news?" he asked.

"Not bad, merely what you would not have liked to hear."

"I would call that 'bad' my dear. Say on."

"Our god has replied..."

"Please tell me he has given up his annoyingly puerile attempts at rhyme?" he interrupted.

Magda paused, staring at him. "May I continue?"

Thraxas smiled. "Surely."

"Thus says Og' Garoth: "Although he did not bring this upon you, he wishes he had. Accept and be what you are. Do not allow the flesh to control you. Your soul is black; your heart is daemon. You waste too much of your time, and it is precious to you, pretending to be a petty ruler over a second-rate town on a third-rate plane. If you will do this, then he will look upon you with favor once more."

Although the word she spoke was not what he wanted to hear, it was easily what he expected to hear. He stood up and crossed his arms. "Petty ruler is it?! Second-rate town?! I may soon become Director of the Union. Granted, not world dictator, but a powerful man nonetheless. What has he to offer me, encased in this "flesh" as he calls it?! Servitude? Slavery? A mewling pawn to grovel at his feet, like you, who chaffs under lash and leash? I have arisen here on my own and by my own means. I pay homage to him for the gift of this life he gave me, such as it is. And now when he sees my freedom and my progress, he wishes to slap me back down and clap me in his chains, to be something that will get me nowhere except cast out? Well I refuse! I am content being what I am and doing as I please here. You may tell him that. Now get out of my sight before I forget my manners and lose my temper; it is such bad form for one such as I," he retorted.

Magda nodded. Although her necromantic skills were progressing, hers was no match for his in a fair fight. This was not the time nor place for a showdown. "I have done my duty. You have been told. See that you give a space of much time before you see me again," she warned.

"Done. Now go!"

She gave a respectful bow and walked away slowly.

Thraxas watched her go to make sure she did not attempt to backstab him, and then sat back down. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Esric Tal, his factor, peering into the room from another doorway. They locked gaze and Esric quickly spoke to explain himself. "M'lord, I heard your raised voice and came to see what was wrong. Is everything all right?"

Thraxas scowled. "I am fine. What exactly did you hear, Esric? Tell me."

"Nothing that I would tell anyone, m'lord. Nothing of consequence." Looking into his master's eyes, he could see that his quick and clever response was not going to save him this time.
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"If a criminal has what you want, you do business with him."