"Pain riddles my form... In every inch that could be called my own, it comes in waves that never cease. Like the lapping of the tides of the brimstone ocean upon the shores of Saigunrai, it hurts. Only in my thoughts does my voice not betray me, as my lips stutter and shudder my words loosely."
Bestle Tornface thought to himself, within the might hall of the Floating Fortress Last Kiss.
"I stand by my God-King." Bestle Tornface powerfully turned his neck to squint up at the near-human visage of his God-King. Taking a moment to let these features sink into his mind and soul, before turning his view to the front that showed out of the helm and into the coming picket lights of Borda. Checkered lights that signified civilization of the undead-kind... Heretics before the God-King so declared of these residents of Borda... Enemies of himself then, simple.
"I know not of when this pain will end. I know not of what this 'Militus Obitius' name that my God-King has bestowed me truly means."
Bestle Tornface shuddered as the muscles in his abs decayed and mended as quickly as it came.
"I do not truly know the crimes of the enemies that I face, but the words of heresy on the lips of my God-King dictates... And that... That is enough for me..."
"...Again I stand by my God-King. I stand in pain, but still, I stand. In the coming minutes to hours when this battle will begin... I will fight in pain... For I will become pain. I know not when it will end, but I wish for it to continue... Pain feeds me. It boils in my black chest like powerful poison and delivers its hateful fuel to course through my veins. The demonic cargo filters into my limbs. They will obey, with hammer in hand, and limbs that obey... I will fell my enemies... In the name of the one that blessed me. In the name of the one that blessed me twice... By Her dark eyes, His Second Wife"
"Again, I see the lights coming closer in the far darkness of this heretical lands of Borda."
"I do not know what 'Militus Obitius' is, but... I know my fuel and I know my purpose."
"My fuel is pain."
"My purpose is Death."
"True Death to the Enemy of the God-King!"
Bestle Tornface howled within his mind, as he hefted his mighty gavel hammer over his shoulder. He watched as Warmarshal Frostgard and Xavier Doomcry descend from the mighty Fortress to begin their first assault on Borda.
********
Jack stood at the helm of the Floating Fortress: Last Kiss with his hands behind his back watching the coming scenery.
"Time." Jack's cold voice echoed in the hall.
"Fifty Hours exactly and counting to seventy-two." A minor priest called out from the back.
"Over two days... I've wasted time," Jack whispered to himself.
If the undead within the helm heard him, none made it known.
"Latest reports," Jack called out again. He had called out for their reports of the battles below since the first hour after the Fortress dropped the Frostgard. These reports had been gathered through the clever deployment of communication units.
Their units consisted of a communication officer, with a guard. Each Unit would be deployed in a certain order with a list of names given to each Unit. This allowed for a quick relay station set up to remain in contact with command. This was set up by Warmarshal Joan, as a call back to her previous command with the first Witchking.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
"Warmarshal Frostgard reports that both the lake city of Avencain and the lake town of Stan have been occupied. Contact with the Deviduke Clan has been established as previously stated. Deviduke Clan is pushing back and disallowing Occupation. Permission to annihilate."
"Interesting..." Jack unfolded his hands from behind his spine and rubbed the stubble on his chin.
"My God, if I may." Warmarshal Joan kneeled to Jack's left.
"You may."
"I had already told that Frostgard kid what to tell the Deviduke Clan. If they have not heeded her words, I suggest annihilation as well." Joan's brows heavily furrowed, as the snakes in her hair hissed in annoyance.
As Jake was contemplating how large of a loss of Frostgard he was willing to lose, a short priest darted over to Warmarshal Joan's right shoulder. The young zombie priest swallowed his black spit, as he cupped his hands to Joan's ear. After which he trotted back to his post with the communication officer, with trembling steps.
A smile stretched across Joan's face as she spoke with a much more gleeful note, "My God, it seems that the Deviduke Clan has decided against true death. Their great Elder crawled out of his crypt to command the Clan. It seems he still remembers my name."
"It's amazing that he still holds a grip on his unlife. Just how old does that make him." Jack laughed.
"He existed before Deagoth and Borda. I'd say he's in his six thousand, my God."
"I should meet him. It would be best to have a mind that old to serve as a council." Jack returned his hands to behind his back.
"If my God commands..." Joan rose and backed away from Jack.
Jack furrowed his brow. He would have to ask Joan later what reservations did she have with the Deviduke Clan. Jack had already heard they were a clan of assholes, but assholes could do business for benefits. This made them useful to Jack, as long as he was the highest bidder, loyalty could be maintained.
*******
Jack watched as the Port City of Dypilme came into view on the horizon. The brightness of the Lava Ocean lit up the City and made it shine like a pearl in the distance.
"Time."
Fifty-nine hours and Twenty-Three minutes and counting to seventy-two."
Jack sighed.
"Latest Reports."
"Borda armies made contact with the Frostgard two hours ago. One hour ago, Warmarshal Frostguard reports that the Frozen Bulwark of the Kingdom of Deagoth will never be broken."
"Ha." Jack gave a quick laugh, which spooked many of the undead presents.
"Losses?"
"Zero reported."
"Good." Jack nodded, and then spoke again, "Joan, please approach me. Everyone else, leave the room until told to return."
The undead within the hall looked at each other for only a brief breath, before standing and shuffling out of the helm. As the last undead left, some stood just outside the helm and continued to look at the God-King and Warmarshal Joan.
Jack with his back to the door to the helm waved his hand, and with his intention, a door to the helm shifted into place with a metallic sound.
"My God?"
"We are quickly approaching the main city of Dypilme. How much do you know about the Church of the Three Gods?" Jack inquired, as Joan stood up from her kneeling position to stand next to Jack at the helm.
"I know they are nut jobs even back in my day."
"It was once said, "Know the enemy and know yourself and in a hundred battles, you'll never be defeated." Jack mused, before continuing, "With that said, I feel that being able to get Death's Daughter isn't an issue, but the enemy that I am making bothers me."
"...What enemy, my God? To you, these pests are but dust before a mountain."
"Not exactly. Death also bestowed some information to me with this small gift of flesh."
Joan turned her head to look at Jack's profile. Her eyes followed the lines of his sharp broad Jaw bone.
"Death referred to me that his church of three gods actually worships some of his brothers and sisters. That's an issue. I can't help but connect that to the fact they would "Kid" nap his daughter. Was this done under the direction of one of them, and I'm just a pawn in a cosmic pissing contest?" Jack's voice hardened, as he steeled his teeth.
"And if you are?" Joan laughed.
"That would make a joke of me, and I'm not to be trifled with-" Jack's hard voice continued, before being cut off by Joan, "You're thinking too much, and you're being too serious."
"I-"
"You want my council, otherwise you wouldn't make this private, so you want my real council."
Jack sighed, "Yes."
"There is being serious and too serious. There is thinking and there is too much thinking. Too much of anything is bad for you or anyone. So what if you are a pawn to beings higher than yourself? Your current self? Play your part in the game, while you consolidate your power. I don't believe that you can not flip the chessboard."
"Flip the board, you say." Jack rubbed his chin, as he was thinking.
"Yes, my God. Flip the board." Joan smiled that pulled tight to her ears, as the snakes in her hair hissed in delight.