Story|The FAEL Waste- Chapter 7

Here comes the fresh Chapter 26 of the story [FThe FEAL WASTE] from Darth2018. Let’s see together what happens.

Angcaldroc’s rumbling laughter as he playfully tortured Kheb echoed through the throne chamber of Nehmbrodel, shaking the rows of massive columns supporting the arched ceiling and colonnades of the central throne plaza, filled many feet deep with gold and silver coins, broken chests of precious stones scattered across the mounds of treasure like pebbles cast aside, diamonds glittering white, rubies like drops of blood and the sapphires bluer than a clear sky, drowning out the piercing cries of the Njai writhing in the grip of the dragon’s talons. The monster drew his captive in close to the hideous maw of his fang-studded jaws, still rank from the many Grimms he had consumed.

Kheb struggled desperately to pull himself free, his shoulders close to being torn from their joints, his long sinuous body pulled taut between the dragon’s left-wing talons and the huge foot claws of Angcaldroc’s massive left leg. Reaching out with his right-wing talon, the beast drew the razor-tipped end of his claw delicately down over the howling Njai prisoner, careful to slice through the scales but not slash the young captive open.

“Aaiiiii!” Kheb screamed, knowing he was about to die.

Laughing, Angcaldroc shook the helpless Njai roughly, enjoying Kheb’s terrified gasps. “Sing, little one!” he rumbled, poking at Kheb’s exposed skin. “Such pretty songs! Maybe I’ll let you join my other songbird and ease my days with delightful duets?” Angcaldroc shifted his weight and reached across his weeping captive to pluck a square container draped with frayed banners of the lost elven kingdom from the floor of the throne room.

“Hello, songbird?” the scaled behemoth spat, shaking the banner-draped square violently. A voice cried out, muffled by the torn banners but still revealing the terror of whatever was beneath them. “Come,” Angcaldroc laughed as he rocked the caged creature by a large metal ring protruding out of the massed cloths. That sharp talon the dragon had scored Kheb with now carefully flipped the banners away, revealing a man-sized cage and an emaciated figure clutching the bars. Kheb stared at the shocking form of a man clad in filthy rags that peered in amazement back at the Njai.

“Greetings, songbird! Would you like to hear a new song?”

Angcaldroc turned back to Kheb and resumed his abuse of the young Njai. Kheb cried out, “Please! Please stop!”

The dragon chuckled happily as he continued, spurred on by Kheb’s pain.

Dolen stared transfixed at the shape confined inside the crystal cell. He pulled his gaze away to peer at the aged wizard. “No! You lie!!” he breathed harshly, fighting the ghastly memories of the titanically decisive battle at the end of the Great War. “The Lich could never be constrained long enough to be put into this cell. The Dark Warlock fell before the gates of Mindon Angtor when we finally broke through!”

Gwyddian raised a slender hand. “Ah, valiant Dolen Skil, captain of the Winged Guard! You dueled hard that morning and the Warlock was almost more than our entire army could overcome!” Greythywst stepped away, looking at all his companions. “It is a charnel moment that haunts my memory! The Dark Warlock’s black spike-armor gleaming with the blood of the men of the west as he fought to keep our troops at bay! The ocher from the dying cascading down the steps in front of the gate in red streams, bodies of friends and foes tangled together in one final embrace, men, elves and orcs! The ring of steel on steel was almost more than a man could bear to hear! Slash and cut, the traitor wove a net of death among our finest warriors but you deflected his strikes and drove him back with your counter thrusts. The Warlock was so focused on you, Kiireon Arfilliel was able to strike the death blow!”

Dolen nodded somberly. “The memory is grim. And you casting your binding spells helped restrict his attacks!” The elf suddenly turned back to the still prisoner. “And while you were helping us at the gate, a wizard’s circle was binding the Lich?”

“Aye!” the wizard nodded. “The Lich was so caught up trying to help his captain, the circle was able to form and catch him in the Bonds of Depression, dulling his mind and stifling his grasp of his dark power.” Stepping beside Dolen, he stared at the figure in the gloom. “While you led the sack of Mindon Angtor, driving out all the Warlock’s surviving soldiers before putting that terrible fortress to the torch, the circle bore their captive away and I was tasked with deflecting any attention to where he had gone.”

“And the Council kept this secret all this time?” Moira demanded. “Letting the nursery rhymes and stories grow about the evil Lich, who came in the night to steal bad children if they didn’t behave themselves?”

She walked up to the crystal sheet and looked hard. “I never thought the stories were actually true!” She turned to look at the wizard. “This really is him? This is the Lich?”

Greythywst nodded slowly.

Moira raised her sword. “Then let’s kill him!”