Resurrection (Book 1: The Chronicles of Chaos)
Page 22
Chapter 20
Bhryll stood on the bow of the ferryboat looking at the shores of his island. It was two centuries since his human followers and undead armies had been driven here. Now, at last, Bhryll could finally see where his followers resided. He could not become sentimental however. His temperament would not allow this. He had a job to do. With all the different species on the island, it would be a difficult task for them all to unite under one banner. The Orcs hated the Goblins. The Goblins despised the Trolls. The Spiders would attack anything and anyone who was not of the same race. Then there were the Bugbears. These chaotic creatures had only one mission in life; to kill. The only way he was going to be able to unite each race was to make them fear him more than any of their hated enemies. The ferry touched down on the beach. Bhryll departed closely followed by his band of undead guards. Some had been left on the mainland as there was not enough room in the ferry. They would guard the ferry post to make sure that nobody pursued him. Bhryll turned to the ghoul that was Paddy Turner.
“Tell me, Paddy, how would you go about uniting the inhabitants of this island?”
Paddy spoke but not as he did before. His voice now seemed very distant as if it was not coming from his mouth but from a distant plain.
“I would go for numbers. The more men I had following me to begin with, the more chance others would follow.”
Bhryll smiled.
“I can see that your services will come in very handy. The largest population on this island will be the Orcs. They breed like wild animals.” Bhryll began sniffing the air. A look of disappointment crossed his face. He then uttered an incantation. A tornado of wind grew around him. He was standing in the eye. Dipping his head into the funnel, he breathed in deep breaths. After one breath, he would turn a fraction to the right and breathed again. He did this until at last he stopped and the tornado disappeared.
“They are this way.” He said pointing. “I can smell their stench from anywhere.” Bhryll set off in the direction of the Orc fields.
The early evening sun was low in the sky when Bhryll and the guards reached the Orc fields. As the adventurers had found them, the fields seemed to be deserted. Bhryll confidently strode into the centre of the field. He looked up at the sky and let out an almighty roar. The field instantly came alive. It looked as though every Orc that had been hiding away suddenly jumped from their holes. The ones closest to Bhryll unsheathed their weapons and surrounded him. For a moment nothing moved. Bhryll looked around at the many thousands of Orcs that stood before him.
“I am your master, your god. You will serve me.” Bhryll shouted. This statement was met with nothing but silence. The Orcs were wary. It was obvious that the creature standing before them was powerful and confident but they did not know to what extent.
One of the larger Orcs emerged from the crowd. It had the physical structure of a human but it was slightly hunched over. The skin on this Orc was brown and grey. Flesh seemed to hang off his body as if it had rotted and dropped off. With his mace drawn at the ready, he approached.
“You presume to be the master of the Orcs.” he hissed. “We have no master, we want no master.”
Bhryll laughed.
“Many years ago, some of you here will have served me. You may be old now but you should remember the time you served Bhryll.”
A roar rose up from the massive crowd of Orcs.
“Bhryll is dead. We watched him die.” One said.
“I was killed, it is true. Now I return as I promised I would. I want you to join with me and the rest of the inhabitants of Cursed Isle so we may exact our revenge.”
“If you are Bhryll, prove it.” The large Orc demanded. Bhryll needed no second invite. He pointed his finger at the large Orc and uttered something under his breath. It was as if the skeleton beneath the Orc’s flesh had been evaporated. The skin sank and sagged to the ground.
“How was that? Would anyone else like a demonstration?” He asked.
The Orcs stood in shock and amazement but they still did not believe this was Bhryll. Now, though, they were angry. One charged to attack followed by another and another. Bhryll felt that a more forceful demonstration of his power was in order. He closed his eyes and held both arms aloft. An incantation was uttered. Electricity enveloped his body. His black armour hissed and crackled. Then a huge cylindrical pulse of energy shot out from his body. All Orcs within a fifty meter radius were knocked to the ground, completely paralysed. The Orcs beyond this radius halted immediately. Bhryll addressed them.
“As you can see, you will not get within a few feet of me. I have chosen not to kill those that are now on the floor between us. They will be more valuable to me alive. Now what say you, will you join me or do you require more persuasion?”
There was no reply to Bhryll’s question. Suddenly, something struck the rear of Bhryll’s helmet. He turned around to see an arrow lying on the ground. He picked it up shouting the words:
“Kill your owner.”
The arrow flew from Bhryll’s hand like a bolt of lightning. It pierced the eye of the Orc who fired it.
“Does anyone else have any questions?” Bhryll shouted. He waited a few moments. Not one Orc made a sound. “Very well then, if you will join me, drop to your knees and swear to serve me and follow my every command.”
Each and every Orc dropped to their knees.
“We swear” Was shouted by all.
“Then rise to your feet and follow me.” Bhryll commanded. The sight was awesome. Bhryll and his guards were followed by hundreds of thousands of Orcs. They began a tour of the island that would take the next three weeks. Wherever a race lived, they would go there and force them into service. Most came willingly. The Orcs, Trolls and Goblins were united by a common fear for their lives. The spiders needed more persuading. Bhryll had to brainwash them with spells to make sure that they only attacked those they were commanded to. This went against the natural instinct of the spiders but the spells would control them long enough to be able to get them to the mainland. The skeletons pledged allegiance instantly with no persuasion at all. They had waited patiently for the day their master would return. Many had fought alongside Bhryll in the first Great War. The Bugbears had similar problems to the Spiders. They were difficult to control and their natural instincts made them quite resilient. Finally, all the races were gathered in the valley of tortured souls below the looming silhouette of Blackheart Castle. Bhryll climbed up to the Castle and entered the gates. Awaiting him, in the centre of the courtyard, was The Watcher and his Wraiths. They all bowed down as Bhryll entered.
“What a dark and dismal castle.” Bhryll said with mock anger. “Just the way I like it.” He walked over to The Watcher and beckoned him to rise.
“My loyal and trusted friend, it has been too long.” Bhryll said sounding almost caring.
“My master, long and hard have I searched for the one who could hold your spirit. I can hardly believe that my task is complete.” The Watcher said.
“You have done well. Now we must make our preparations. I have assembled the armies. Now, with your help and that of our friend Paddy, we will plot the downfall of mankind.” Bhryll laughed which in turn started The Watcher laughing. It would take another week before the forces of evil were ready to put their plans into action.
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