Draknor: Curse of Agrata

The days slipped by and the castles mood became more festive than ever before, the day had come. Thurn was dressed in his best robes, a splendid sword at his side. His captain of the guards smirked as he had Draknor’s sword resting on his shoulder marveling at the size and heft of the blade, and the excellent craftsmanship.

Ylla was in attendance with the rest of the serving girls, she had dreaded this day. She hated these days, the time of sacrifice where some poor soul wound be presented to their dark god as a sacrifice. It was always a terrible sight to see the sacrifice, their screams, the blood. Ylla did her best to not look to turn her attention to serving refreshments.

The food was laid out, the court was in full attendance to receive the blessing of wealth and good fortune that would come from their sacrifice. A signal from king Thurn and one of his guards left. Ylla swallowed knowing what was to come next.

Grint and several guards carried Draknor between them, days of hanging in the dungeon and being tortured had taken their toll on the dracoz he growled at his captors straining against the irons around his wrists and feet. His muzzle had been tied shut to prevent biting and he was still clad in the loincloth.

The banquet hall erupted in applause at seeing the stricken dracoz. Draknor growled as he was dragged before the assembled court. He saw much, Thurn looking smug, the dracoz slavegirl looking downcast, a human guard holding his sword as a trophy, and the tooth on Grint’s necklace he had pulled from him. While Draknor would regrow the tooth much like a crocodile it had still hurt like the hells, and seeing the tooth flaunted only fueled his anger.

His most alarming observation though was the wooden structure at the end of the hall, a pair of wooden posts in the shape of an X. Some of the banquet goers tossed food at the dracoz and jeered.

King Thurn stood up and motioned his subjects to silence.

“My subjects, the day has come once again. The day we give unto the lord above even myself a sacrifice, so that he will grow strong and bless us with his favor. He shall be quite pleased as we have a dracoz to offer him. Let us proceed with the sacrifice.”

The guards transferred Draknor to dark robed men as he was dragged to the wooden X. Grunting and straining the priests lifted Draknor, his shackles were released only for his limbs to be forced against the wooden planks and lashed down. Draknor struggled but the time in the dungeon had diminished his great strength and soon the dracoz was fastened to the planks helpless to resist.

The hall was silent as the head priest spoke.

“Tologroth, we offer you this worthy sacrifice. Accept it and bless us.”

Tologroth! Draknor jerked his head up and growled through his tied shut muzzle. He knew that name, a fiend from the abyss beyond, his people had fought his spawn and driven them to extinction. Or so he had thought. That fiend still lived it seemed, and exerted its influence over Agratta. These foolish humans had no idea what they were trifling with.

“Your moment has come dracoz.” Grint smiled.

The priests were chanting in the dark language as they moved towards Draknor mallets and rune inscribed nails in hand. Draknor knew exactly what they were about to do to him as he strained against his bindings.

He barely felt the sting of the nail against his right palm before the mallet began to strike over and over, driving it thorugh his hand and into the wood behind it, the priests kept up their chanting as they started on the other hand. Draknor could smell blood, a turn of his head and he could see rivulets of blood oozing from his hand, his anguished cries rumbled in his throat but the muzzling kept him from screaming as they drove the nail into his left hand.

His right foot and left foot were soon nailed to the cross and the priests finally stepped away finishing their dark prayer. With the deed done the hall fell into celebrations, as music and dance began and food and wine were consumed with gluttonous fervor.

Draknor could feel his blood flowing out of his wounds, and with it he could feel his life being drained, fed to that monster that dwelled within the mountain. He fixed his gaze on the reveling humans and their smiles, the bent submissive head of Ylla as she served her masters. The pain in his body kept stabbing at the dracoz, his limbs throbbed and his hands and feet felt as if they were on fire.

Draknor felt time slowing down as it seemed he was stuck to the cross for hour. The more he dwelled upon what was befalling him the angrier he became. Was Tologroth going to have the last laugh? Were these humans going to continue this cycle of theirs? No! The rage was building within Draknor it started as an ember, and as he strained against the binds and nails the pain turned to anger. If he was to die what was a bit of pain?

Draknor felt the nail wiggle in his palm further driving the pain into his right hand, he heard the wood creak. He could do it; he knew he could, his will was stronger. Feeding the anger Draknor kept straining against the cross.

There was the creak of wood as Draknor kept flexing and then he felt something give. A chunk of wood snapped off of the cross. Someone took notice as there was a panicked shout.

Draknor acted quickly as he slipped the blunt end of the nail beneath the ropes muzzling him and tore. His jaws opened free and he immediately gripped the nail in his jaws and tore it free. The pain was intense but it told him he was not yet dead. He tore the ropes on his right arm with his jaws and then untied his left arm as he gripped the nail and tore it out.

Grint was advancing on Draknor with a club intent on beating the dracoz back into submission. The rage within Draknor was numbing the pain.

“I made you a promise Grint!” Draknor declared as he used the nail to free his legs of the ropes, as the torturer rained blows on Darknor’s body the dracoz struck with his improvised shiv and drove it into the man’s neck.

Grint fell back his hands desperately clutching at his neck as Draknor ripped the last two nails free from his feet.

The hall was in a panic as the attending nobles panicked and ran, the servants were also running for their lives or cowering beneath tables. Holding the nails Draknor met the charge of a pair of guards, he ducked an axe swing and drove the nail into an unprotected leg and the second nail into the guard’s arm. The man dropped the axe and Draknir snatched it up and cleft into the skull of the guard.

Draknor pivoted and caught a sword blade on the axe’s shaft, snarling he shoved the blade away and chopped into the guard’s chest. Draknor bellowed a challenge at all assembled.

“You wish to kill a dracoz? Come! I shall not die till I have taken as many of you as I can!”

A robed priest moved to stab Draknor in the back but the dracoz spun about and axed the man in the sternum before extracting the blade and roaring. Draknor fell upon the knife and mallet wielding priests with axe, jaws and claws. The men fell as Draknor slaughtered the lot.

The guards advanced with leveled spears on the rampaging Dracoz led by their captain holding Draknor’s greatsword. Draknor charged the line before pausing at the last minute and hurling his axe at the captain.

The axe struck true and the man crumpled to the ground as Draknor bounded to his corpse and snatched up his greatsword.

“Ahhh, you always find your way back to me my friend.”

A spearpoint grzed Draknor’s side, but he was far too enraged to register the pain. The dracoz charged the spearman turning aside his thrust and driving his own sword through the mail and flesh of the guard before kicking his twitching body away.

Draknor weaved into the guards hacking, hewing, slashing, even employing his tail to knock a guard over, his sword ran red with blood. The remaining guards retreated fleeing the berserk dracoz.

“Get back here!” Draknor roared as he delivered a downward chop to a felled foe.

As Draknor moved to pursue he pulled up short as something stopped him in his tracks. It was Ylla her arms held up placatingly.

“Move.” Draknor ordered.

“They have crossbows waiting for you down the hall. You won’t survive.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Draknor moved past her as she caught his arm.

“Please! I can get you around them… I can heal your wounds too. The rage will only keep you alive for so long!”

Draknor knew she spoke true already his head was spinning from the pain and bloodloss. Ylla used the tablecloths to wrap Draknor’s hands and feet.

“This way, come, come!” Ylla said leading the dracoz to a side door he hadn’t noticed.

“Why are you helping me?” Draknor growled.

Ylla sighed, “Because you’ve reawakened something in me I had lost a long time ago.”

Down twisting halls she lead him before pulling him into a quaint room with a tiny bed.

“Sit.” Ylla ordered as she began to unwrap his bandages.

Draknor sat on the tiny bed as Ylla saw to him, she dabbed a cloth in a blue liquid she had under the bed and applied it to Draknor’s wounds, the dracoz hissed in pain.

“It will sting, but this will keep infection away, and seal up the wounds.”

“Healing waters?” Draknor questioned.

“Yes, I stashed some away during the course of my enslavement here.”

Ylla applied the cloth, Draknor hissed as his wounds were cleansed and healed.

“We cannot tarry here for long, you must flee. I cans show you a way out.”

Draknor cocked his head, “If you know a way out, why have you not escaped?”

Ylla hung her head, “If one of us tries to escape, the others will be punished.”

Draknor grunted, “I have no intention of escaping, I am going to end this cycle once and for all.”

Ylla’s jaws hung open, “But you are but one against an entire castle!”

“Yes. There is no one else who will aid us, it has to be me. Tologroth must be purged. You know of this creature, yes?”

Ylla sighed, “I do. It taunts my dreams on occasion, gloating about ho it survived our war and its control of these humans.”

“I will destroy it,” Draknor declared. “Do you know where it resides?”

Ylla looked distant, “I’m not allowed to go there, but there is a passage that leads into the mountain, the king and priests are the only ones allowed through there.”

Draknor stood up hefting up his sword. “Then that is where I shall go.”

Ylla took a breath, “Then I shall go with you.”

Draknor regarded her, “It will be dangerous.”

“All the more reason, someone has to be around to heal you.” She looked away sadly, “I’m tired of the slave life, this might be my only chance. Maybe you can end this once and for all. It’s a faint hope, but I have had no room in my heart for hope in sometime. Until you came along and reminded me.”

Draknor set his massive hand on her bare shoulder.

“Stay behind me, and do whatever I tell you to do.”

Ylla inclined her head in consent.

Draknor shoved the door open and stepped out Ylla trailing behind him. The pair hadn’t gone far when there were shouts.

“This way I thought I saw something!” Draknor pulled Ylla with him and rounded the corner where he pressed himself against the wall and pulled her beside him.

“Wait here.” Draknor instructed.

The running footsteps drew closer, Draknor waited patiently listening to their feet coming ever so closer before he stepped around the wall and plunged his sword into a guard. There was a sputtered shout as the man died and Draknor snatched his crossbow from him and fired it one handed at the second guard, and then flung the weapon into the third.

Draknor extracted his blade and swung bashed the third guard with his pommel while delivering a powerful kick to the fourth a final a coup-de-grace to the felled guard and it was all over in a matter of seconds.

“It’s safe, lead on.” Draknor grunted.

Ylla resumed the trek having enough sense not to look back at the death in Draknor’s wake. The two made twists and turns as they navigated the labyrinthine castle until they came upon a large door, here the even smooth stone of the floor gave way to rough uneven stone, the door was open.

Draknor took a whiff and smelled a foul stench. “I recognize that smell.”

“It’s open… they’ll be waiting for you Draknor.” Ylla warned.

“So be it. Now’s your chance to leave.”

Ylla shook her head, “I’m not abandoning you.”

Draknor sighed, “If I tell you to run, run.”

Ylla nodded and together the two plunged deeper into the darkness, their keen dracoz eyesight soon adjusted to the gloom as they were moving into the actual mountain itself. The passageway seemed to go on forever as they made their way deeper and deeper, but then the two could discern a light source up ahead.

Torches.

Draknor readied his sword and growled as he drew closer.

A ring of torches had been laid in a cavern and a single figure stood in the center resplendent in a shiny cuirass. Thurn.

“Well, well, dracoz. Seems you’re hard to kill.”

Draknor advanced as Ylla pulled up short. Thurn noticed her.

“Oh, and what’s this, when have you grown a backbone slave? Has my pet dracoz’s heart swooned?”

“I’ve grown tired of your voice.” Draknor declared.

Thurn clucked his tongue as he drew his sword, unlike the usual straight bladed arming swords his guards had, the king held a curved shamshir.

“Took this from one of our previous sacrifices. Our lord and master will be quite impressed with me killing you singlehandedly.”

Draknor was done talking as he swung his greatsword, Thurn leapt back away from the singing blade and then moved in with a low slash. Draknor felt the blade bite into his leg and he retaliated with a downward chop that again barely missed the wicked king.

Thurn moved to counter but Drakor had already recovered and thrusted for the king who moved back and batted away the tip of Draknor’s sword. Ylla hung back and held onto a stalagmite as she watched the duel unfolding before her.

Thurn pressed his attack a series of quick chops and slashes for Draknor, who caught each blow on his sword before kneeing Thurn in the sternum and sent the man doubling over to the floor. Thurn rolled and barely avoided the killing blow, Draknor’s sword sent sparks flashing across the dim cavern.

The king grinned as he reached to the small of his back and flung a dagger at Draknor, the dracoz moved to parry but the dagger struck him in the shoulder. Draknor roared as Thurn moved in and raised his sword. Thurn suddenly grunted and fell back as a fist sized rock struck him in the face, he shook his head to see Ylla had hurled the stone.

“You will pay for that!” Thurn bellowed.

“Hurrr,” Draknor growled as he extracted the dagger from his shoulder with his teeth and spit the blade out onto the floor.

Thurn readied himself as he slashed low, Draknor parried and then closed the distance as he took one hand off the hilt and grabbed Thurn by the collar. Draknor shook the man as a terrier would a rat and the king’s sword fell from his grasp.

Thurn feebly pried at Draknor’s fingers as the dracoz fixed the tyrant with baleful yellow eyes. The dracoz wasted no time as he brought the man closer and clamped down with his jaws upon the throat. Thurn let out a strangled cry as his throat was crushed and Draknor tore.

With his work done Draknor tossed the lifeless husk of the late ruler aside.

“The king is dead. Long live the king.” Draknor grunted.

Ylla advanced on Draknor hesitantly as she held the bottle of healing waters.

“Got hurt again I see.”

Draknor chuckled dryly.