WOLF IN THE IRON MASK
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The Wounded Wolf
Upon his return to Dharen’Rhylo in early 1035AB, the Blood Wolf made his way to Alexandretta to report directly to the War Sage. Fury broiled in his eyes as he found himself at the War Sage’s feet. Even before Silvanus had returned, news of Selnia's destruction had long made its way to the War Sage’s ears. To say he was eager to hear what Silvanus had to say was an understatement. But the report that the Blood Wolf provided was far from satisfactory. Silvanus did not provide a clear account of the events.
Instead, Silvanus made his case purely on the accusations he made about Annatha Ahri. The War Sage was displeased to hear that his Scarlet Knight would provide information without solid evidence. Silvanus told an elaborate tale, a theory, an idea — but he had nothing to show for it. Silvanus failed to provide the War Sage with anything concrete. Annatha Ahri was too precious of an asset, even if she was a traitor. The War Sage even pointed out that her dead body would have been profoundly useful.
But Silvanus had nothing. He returned with no team, no colony, and no Annatha. In the War Sage’s eyes Silvanus failed and was trying to cover his losses with a pitiful excuse. Xander just shook his head. With scathing words he questioned how Raven Blood would allow such a fool to replace him. The War Sage knew all about Silvanus. His history and his upbringing were not something that could have been hidden. The War Sage accused Silvanus of being a foolish, worthless savage. A primitive incompetent who wasn’t worthy of the title he was given.
Silvanus was always quick to anger when someone mentioned his lineage: especially if they were talking down to him. The War Sage held nothing back. He berated Silvanus until the Blood Wolf could not keep himself composed. Without thinking Silvanus drew his claws. That would be a mistake he would quickly come to regret as the War Sage was not someone to be trifled with. The man did not acquire his position through political favor alone. He was a brutal combatant and held himself well against Silvanus blow for blow — he was even better than Raven Blood.
The rage that broiled within Silvanus was silenced when the War Sage stabbed him numerous times. But Silvanus was fortunate. Xander did not wish him dead. All of the wounds he inflicted were not fatal. Yet Silvanus nearly bled-out upon the floor, cursing the War Sage all the while. As Silvanus’ wounds were tended, the War Sage stripped him of his title and his rank. He was given dishonorable discharge from the Scarlet Knights and the Father’s Sword — partly for his failure but mostly for being an idiotic coward.
Silvanus was promptly put into the dungeon deep in the heart of the city where they kept valuable prisoners of war. Isolated and alone; stripped of claws and clothes; Silvanus was left naked and bare on the dirty stone floor. All he wore were bandages soaked in his own blood. As he laid there he could not believe that no one saw that Annatha Ahri was behind everything. She was responsible, not him. He felt he didn’t deserve this punishment. But he failed to take into account that he raised his own weapon against the War Sage. A detail he’ll conveniently overlook in time.
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Mark of the Savage
But the War Sage wasn’t done with Silvanus yet. Those who raise their weapon against him are given horrendous punishment. Fear is a powerful weapon and the War Sage knew how to wield it. He knew that others would see the brutality that would await them. Death would have been far too simplistic, even if it was a public execution. Xander thought long about how he would reward Silvanus for his actions. Without a doubt Silvanus was very sensitive about his lineage, and that fact didn’t escape the War Sage.
Finally Xander decided upon a punishment perfectly suited for Silvanus. He ordered that an iron mask be crafted. It was to be made for Silvanus alone and was designed to fit his proportions. But the mask would also have a unique shape. Xander ordered that it be sculpted in the guise of a wolf: to remind Silvanus of what he had lost and what he truly was.
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The mask was made to fit the specifications. It was heavy and crude — the orbits of the eyes were just wide enough to be useful. It wasn’t designed to cover the entire face; however, it would cover the upper half of the face, between the nose and forehead. A thick metal band was added to make sure that the weight remained stable. The band was designed to wrap around Silvanus’ skull and become a permanent fixture. The War Sage did not believe in mercy. The mask was never meant to be removed. Silvanus would have to wear it until the day he died.
As a final insult to Silvanus, Xander ordered a special mark be branded to the forehead of the mask. It was a strange symbol seldom used. But those who were well versed in cryptic icons would recognize the emblem from history books. When Dharen’Rhylo dealt with the Northern Tribelands, the icon was used to identify active tribes on the map. But the icon wasn’t meant to be flattering. Ultimately it meant Savage. And that is exactly what Silvanus was in the eyes of the War Sage.
The application of the mask wasn’t an easy process. Silvanus struggled and fought, but he was eventually held down and chained to a metal slab before a furnace. They shaved his head. They did not wish for his hair to catch fire — the smell of burning human flesh was enough. They bound his head with leather and secured it with a vice. There was no doubt the poor fool would struggle and scream. But they needed him to be perfectly still or he would suffer an even greater fate.
The iron mask was superheated in the furnace. They wanted it to be perfectly fused to his face. Brought to a scalding red heat, the mask was pulled from the fire. They used a tool to suspend it over Silvanus. He was forced to watch as they lowered it down upon him. He roared in pain as it broiled into his flesh and melted into his skin. The powerful beast of a man struggled, but they held him down. Even though the pain was too great — Silvanus wasn’t capable of blacking out. He suffered and wept. His tears hissed into vapor as they kissed the metal.
They pulled the band from the fire and pressed it up against the rear of his skull. They married with the mask before pulling cherry hot rivets from the flame. With a broad hammer they beat the rivets through the slots, which permanently merged the mask to Silvanus. The smell of burning flesh filled the air and forever lingered in Silvanus’ melted nostrils. The restraints remained for several hours, which kept Silvanus still as the metal constricted and squeezed around his skull.
For days they kept him locked in the dungeon. He clawed at the metal mask. His flesh throbbed and his bones ached. There was no removing the crude thing. His neck swelled as the weight of the mask took its toll. But he wasn’t given long to adjust to it before they came for him again. Once more they chained him like an animal. The War Sage visited him one last time. He wanted to remind Silvanus of just why he deserved the punishment. Silvanus failed. Xander never appreciated failure. None of his Scarlet Knights were allowed to fail, especially those with as much power as Silvanus had.
To true shame was that Silvanus could no longer see that he had failed. He had convinced himself of his own innocence. There was no other explanation for his failure. In Silvanus’ own mind he was infallible. The War Sage ordered that Silvanus be excommunicated from Dharen’Rhylo. They bound the former Blood Wolf and bagged his face. Before he knew it he was dragged into a carriage and hauled off into the unknown. They carried him for what felt like days until they came to the border just outside of Durvam.
They crossed the river and threw Silvanus into the forest. Left unchained and unbound, Silvanus was not given the means to survive. They left him no food, no water, nor weapons. But he spent years in the forests throughout his youth. It did not take him long to find himself creature comforts before reality set in. He was alone. He realized then that he had grown accustomed to company, but the only company had now was the hum of insects in the night and the movement of his prey.
He thought of slipping back into Dharen’Rhylo. But the warning he had been given by the War Sage was clear. Were he to return, they’d no doubt kill him for his disobedience. For the second time in his life he made the forest his home, and avoided civilization. The population of Durvam was sparse and peppered between a number of small villages and towns. There was little chance anyone would have happened by him.
To Be Continued...