The Dark Castle

Bandrial stretched and rose, having finished clasping her dress herself, she looked down at Warren and petted his head. Her heels made terrifying noises in the stonework, echoing trough the halls. The castle seemed to tremble knowing the dark sorceress was roaming its halls.

"I am in need of another servant, but for now we shall leave it at rest. I don't need the smell of too much burning flesh before breakfast. Make someone fetch it for me will you? Your queen requires some... nourishment." She smirked. No one really knew what she meant when she said that. Her meals were always taken in secret, and there seemed to be a new cook every couple of weeks. She didn't kill them, but eventually, it seems, their sanity ran thin and death appeared as their only escape. Hangings, stabbings with their own kitchen knives, even one who boiled himself alive. Whatever it was that she ingested, it was not for the faint of heart.

She continued down the halls, stopping at the Library, her apprentice lay asleep in a spell book. Her red hair spilled wildly around the tomes. Bandrial rolled her eyes. Silly girl, always studying. She could never become as great as Bandrial herself. She could not save that mother of hers without Bandrial's help. A small smirk curled Bandrial's blood stained lips. She had made sure of that. Alisia was too important. Her powers were great for a mortal, and it allowed her to travel amongst the world as her spy, as her seductress when necessary. Beautiful and deadly, the perfect informant.

"Alisia?" Bandrial woke her with a snap of her fingers, forcing her chair to spin toward her wildly. Alisia jarred awake and quickly collected her composure. Her white hood went up and her body transformed into shadow. The dark smoke moved to Bandrial and then condensed into the young sorceress once more.

"My liege?" she asked. Her voice was like breaking glass, both beautiful and dangerous. "What is it I can do for you?"

"Come with me my darling," Bandrial commanded. "It's time to rally the troops."

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As the two women made their way to the soldiers barracks everyone grew quiet. Bandrial's presence had a habit of doing that. The room grew still. These were the most blood thirsty men in all of Aurora. She took them from prisons, from insane asylums, from everywhere that filth seems to hide. She soon found her general and called him to her.

"Flagg, the comet strikes tomorrow night," she stated. "I do not want you in the fight tomorrow, but its time to get your troops ready for battle." Flagg was neither human or beast. Standing a striking fifteen feet high, he was almost as intimidating as Bandrial. His face was disfigured, and he was more demon that human. He was hot to the touch, and with Bandrial's command could be converted into a molten covered, flame throwing beast.

"Why can't I go?" his voice was booming, loud.

"I need you here, to guard my castle," She said. "The troops go at dawn."

Akklanza nodded. "Of course. Anything for you, sire." He bowed respectfully, and walked out of the room. The guards that were posted next to the throne room gave each other weird looks, as they had not seen him come in. Akklanza was amused at this, and a smirk slowly formed on his face. "Fools, did you not think you would see me?" he muttered, as he walked to the outer wall.

Hanging over the wall, the wind whipped through his hair. "It'll be a good night for a hunt." he said, diabolically. His axe and sword formed a warped "X" as they laid on his back. He watched as soldiers went to and fro, going in and out of the barracks. He would have fun with this, after all, his queen was kind enough to bestow upon him the honor of such an assignment.

He decided that some food would be nice, and subsequently jumped over the castle wall, landing gracefully with no more sound than a soft thump. Preferring to kill his own meal, he brandished his sword, and made his way to the forest. There, he would take out a small pouch. It was a special mixture, a powder, that was used by hunters to attract wild game. He sprinkled some on the ground, and put away the pouch. He hid himself in the nearby bushes. His scent would be masked by the greater scent of the powder.

Surprisingly, it only took about 15 minutes for the first victim showed. A rather large boar, which would be perfect for an orc like himself. Drawing a single throwing knife, Akklanza aimed, and threw the blade at the boar, striking it in the head, and killing it. Normally Akklanza would only use throwing knife to take out game and escaping enemies, so he rarely used them in actual battle.

It wasn't long until he had the boar roasting on a spit. The gutted remains were used as fuel for the fire, and occasionally the fire would flare, whenever it would come into contact with methane from the boar's organs. He wasn't the best cook in the world, but he knew how to make decent Barbecue.

He had his meal, and returned to the castle.

It had reached passed midnight. Dawn would be approaching soon. The comet was less that 24 hours away. Bandrial went to Flagg. Something in her feared the coming night. It was stupidity. Pure stupidity. Infants couldn't fight a war. Even if they did survive, it would take years before they were ready to fight anyone.

"Is it time milady?" Flagg asked in his deep hollow voice. Bandrial nodded. It was time. She would end this and keep the throne for an eternity to come.

"Now that you've told me, why do you think I would be so stupid as to not fix it?" Bandrial asked

"Because the decisions you make have a funny way of turning on you."

Those words echoed through her head. No mistakes could be made. Akklanza had best do his job, and her soldiers had best do theirs. She was in a murderous mood. She begged for someone to step in her way.

The battle cries could be heard in the background, the shuffling of the troops as they went to begin their onslaught. Any child born today would surely not live to see tomorrow.

Akklanza noted that he was probably being ignored in spite of more important things, so he left Bandrial's chambers and stood watch at the tallest tower in the castle. The wind whipped through his hair. He figured that this would be the next place they would attack, so he ordered one of the nearby soldiers to hand him a crossbow. The soldier simply nodded and gave it to him, and a quiver of bolts.

He was a good sharpshooter when he needed to be.