Snippet #997431

Monngus

The beast sat at the head seat of the long table, flanked on either side by the silent shadow of a figure in grey robes. Similar grey robes lined each side of the table, five on each, and several more standing across the room. No faces were visible, save for the monstrous visage that sat at the head of the table.

The beast towered over everyone else in the room, even when seated. Slender ears came to points, nearly lost amonst the three gnarled pairs of horns that decorated the top of its head. The skin of the creature was sickly pallid, with the coursing of blood tainting the white with a pink undertone. Long white hairs formed into a beard at the chin, more like that of a billygoat than a human. His body was a strange hybrid of human and beast, covered in white hair but bipedal. In one hand he held the most enormous, wicked double-head axe mortals had ever laid eyes on, the blades stained with old and crusted blood of countless battles.

The eyes of the beast were a solid blue, but they seemed distant, unfocused. He stared at nothing as those around him spoke.

"The king has called in his forces from all over the land. The outlying villages will fall easily into our control," a voice announced from one of the various robes.

"I have dispatched messengers to the Nevorgi high council. We should recieve their reply within a turn of the moon," came another.

"What of the princess?" The voice of the beast was low and appropriately animalistic, gravelly and rasping slightly. The room practically shook when he spoke, so voluminous was his vociferation.

Hooded faces turned to look at each other, a fruitless activity, to be sure. Finally, one spoke. "She has not yet been located. But our control of the land grows daily, she will not make it out of Demortris."

Monngus drew in a deep breath, and with what seemed like great strain rose from the iron seat. "Come before me," he commanded simply, and the last robe to have spoken did just that, bringing himself closer to the great beast that called himself High Priest of Grovel. The robed figure knelt on the ground before the creature, head bowed.

No warning, hardly time to react, certainly no time to scream. Monngus the High Priest raised the great war-axe and brought it across the robe's shoulder's, cleaving the head cleanly from the neck. A burst of blood sprayed out, staining the white hair, but blending perfectly into armor that was already blood-red. The head rolled twice, landing at the foot of the beast, the hood falling away to reveal a face contorted in permanent agony.

"Find the princess."