The Glory of Evil

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By: Hieyoko Posted on: January 06, 2008



He smirked as he looked out at his audience. It had been ages since one of his stature had taken the time to address the entire City, and the size of the crowd reflected their interest.


A small gesture of his hand, and all murmuring stopped.


"Greetings, City of Evil, and praises to the Twin Lords."


A unanimous "Praise, indeed," echoed his voice, followed quickly by the same solemn silence as before. With a final glance across the room, he began, his voice gravelly yet strong.


"I have served the will of Evil since long before the splitting of my Lord Sartan into the Twin Lords that we serve now. My blades have tasted the blood of innumerable heathens. I am as all of you should aspire to be - a bane to the Light, the right hand of Suffering. The mere mention of my name in that wretched town to the East causes doors to lock and windows to close. The weak flee before my might, the strong beg for mercy before I remove their heads from their shoulders, and all see my face in their darkest dreams.


"I have been with the City of Evil from its beginning. My blood stains the stalagmite that we proudly sacrificed ourselves upon to free our Lord. I proudly went to my death against our initial opposition, knowing that an honourable death defending my home was worth far more than a coward's life in the cellars, and I watched as our leaders led our return to greatness. My blades were victory and triumph, and as Evil's presence spread throughout the land once again, I was there, offering the spilled blood of innocents and heathens alike to raise shrines to our Lords."


He paused for a moment, frowning. "I am disappointed, then, that my work has not been more fruitful.


"I fought and died with nobility, with honour, and with the utmost respect for the wishes and desires of my Lords - a feat which I doubt a single of you here can claim. You have bastardised the Truths, you have smeared the name of Evil by associating with weak, unprincipled cowards, and you have failed in your duties to the Twin Lords!"


A dragon with bulging eyes, scaled skin, and elephantine legs opened her colossal maw to speak, but he cut her off with a hostile gesture.


"Do not question me, useless harlot! You sell yourself to the one most likely to grant you success, caring nothing for true strength! You claim to hunt for the Lords, but your greed and inflated self-worth prevent you from serving how is proper for one who claims to live for Evil. You have paid lip service to the Twin Lords, but nothing more - and worse, you have inspired others in your stead!"


His eyes ablaze with fury, he pointed directly at a fully-armoured Maldaathi. "What do you know about Honour? What do you know about Respect? You whore your blades out for unworthy causes, you hunt our allies for gold that you pocket, you refuse even the most noble of duels - you are not worthy of your swords or your title!"


He swept his arm in a grand motion across the now-restless crowd, raising his voice to shout over the growing murmurs. "Simple-minded fools! Do the Truths mean nothing to you? You besmirch the names of the Twin Lords by freely allying with those who just months ago you slaughtered freely, you forgive even the most treacherous of offences for a mere pittance - the glory of Evil is treated as little more than a line in a book, able to be glossed over when inconvenient! You sleep with Darkwalkers, you coddle those who seek to promote Creation, you freely embrace those who tend to plants with more care than you tend your duties as servants of Evil... not a single one of you is fit to polish my armour! Y--"


An inhuman rending sound filled the air, drowning out the cries of the speaker. As the Pit of Golgotha spread throughout the room, the bulging eyes of a dragon with scaled skin and elephantine legs glinted dangerously, and he was drawn screaming into the sulfurous gap in the floor, his cries vanishing into nothingness.


She watched with pleasure as he disappeared, and lumbered forwards with an odd grace, taking his former place near the edge of the smoking chasm in the floor. As she did so, the noise of the crowd quickly dissipated, all eyes focused on her massive frame.


A small whisp of smoke escaped her nostrils as she began to speak. "Ignore the ramblings of that old fool. He has demonstrated weakness and actions contrary to Evil, and as such, has been cast from the City and declared to be a formal enemy. My Cityfavour and five thousand gold sovereigns to the first individual to bring me his head - five thousand gold per individual if you need a group to do so. I suggest that you wait near the Cave, as I have no doubt that he will be returning from there shortly. Praise to the Twin Lords."


"Praise, indeed," echoed the reply, followed shortly by the beating of wings as a small group set out to await their prey.