Anthraxia, demon pixie of the brood, was a creation of Darkstars, like the Governess and Gothrax. She flitted into the throneroom where D'Sar sat in conference with Alfred. They had tried in vain to debrief him after his kidnapping, yet he wouldn't respond. He has said nary a word since his return. He simply sits and rocks, with a blank look in his face. D'Sar believed that talking to this catatonic man-servant might jar him back into reality eventually. It's as if Alfred was in a walking coma.
As the darklord was trying to tell him of what had transgressed, the pixie landed on the table between them. She sat down on a bread roll, crossed her legs over each other,put her head in her hands and listened to D'Sar speak. She loved the sound of his voice. So soothing yet sinister. Like the calm peaceful sound of death.
Darkstar nodded at her, gave the pixie a wry smile of hello and continued with his story on the outcome of the slave auction. "...so there's the rub, old chum. I had been enslaved to Kioska for the past few days after she activated her voucher. Save for her yelling "DIAPER CHANGER" as I traversed the streets, never did she 'command' me to come to her! I, as a god of evil, would never be so foolish to volunteer myself. She 'owned' me, yet did nothing with me! That's the same as owning a farm, with great crop expectations, yet never tilling the soil!! Muwahahahahaaaa!" bellowed the Darklord...yet only he and Anthraxia were laughing. Alfred sat still, with his catatonic look afixed firmly to face. Not a muscle moved as he stared blankly into space with a small spot of drool from the corner of his lips.
"Was I so intimidating that the mouth that roared has been rendered mute in my presence?" he chortled. "And in all this time, the clocked ticked on her voucher! Tick tock tock tock! All she had to do was pray to me! I would have heard her 'commands'. Aaahhh....what fools these mortals be. I thought she had bigger stones than that!"
Anthraxia, who despised the Misfits Hideout clan, found the whole story incredibly funny, laughed so hard that she and fell off her roll and into the butter bowl! Alfred's eyes darted to her as she fell...and for a brief moment, the corners of his mouth looked to almost crack a smirk. "PROGRESS", thought D'Sar. That's all he desired was progress. Not to throw off the rythm, he simply recorded the event in his mind.
Anthraxia, mildly embarrassed, wiped herself off with a napkin so large it could be her bed sheet. Funny how such a tiny female pixie could probably be the most powerful creation in Darkstar's arsenal of evil.
A slave girl changed the tainted butter bowl.
"So tiny and wee, yet still I'm clumsy!" She giggled in her usual rhyme.
"Oh Alfred, fine man, we try as we can! We wish ye could hear how ye bring us fear! Oh please, for us change and stop being strange!"
Alfred stayed still. He was practically unreachable.
"I suppose that's enough for you today, old chum. Off to bed with you."
said Darkstar as he clapped his hands and Alfreds caretakers came to take him back to his room. They placed his blanket about his shoulders, made sure his slippers were steadfastly secured and walked him slowly up the stairs.
A door knocker announced someone at the doors. "Come!" shouted Darkstar, sternly. Captain Garret entered the chamber, and saluted to Darkstar. "My Liege, two of the new regiment are here. Allow me to introduce you to Lotharius and Torak."
They both bowed to the Darklord, standing in Tower formal dress. Crisp new uniforms, nicely pressed, they stood at attention. He looked at them there, standing proud. Pride is what D'Sar loves. "Torak...you are a defector from the Circle of Peace, are you not?" Torak bowed then snapped back to attention and exclaimed, "Yes SIR!"
D'Sar raised an eyebrow. So many years he had tormented the "Peas" as he liked to jest, that he wondered the sincerity of this new warrior. What really caused this bastion of peace to swear himself to the darkside?
"You do understand, at any given moment, your allegiance may be tested, due only to the fact of your past history?"
Torak nodded in a sage manner. He understands the Dark Lords apprehension. This was expected when he came aboard. The path from light to endarkenment is never an easy one.
"Well...you both look like fine strapping warriors. Sit, all of you. Have a drink with me to toast your entrance into the brood." said the grinning aristobat.
With that, they sat... And D'Sar told them the tales of the days when the Tower was at it's finest. Darkstar was a captivating orator. Anthraxia lounged on a pile of soft linen napkins and listened attentively, drinking in his dreamy voice as he lamented the past glory, and discussed ways to blaze a new road to dominance once again.
D'Sar returned from the auction. He had actually walked back to the Tower. He walked because he wanted a closer look at the incredibly large monolith that recently appeared on the outskirts of Kjeldoran. It seemed to throb with a mysterious hum. However, he wasn't seeking it's dark mystery yet. Too many things were on his mind as it was.
He entered the Tower and went up to Alfred's room. The lights were off and the smell was putrid. Poking his head in, he peered inside. "Alfred?" He said. "Are you there old chum?" His bat hearing detected breathing and mild sobbing. Darkstar lit a candle and saw a figure in side. It was Alfred , sitting in a corner on the floor. His remaining hair on his balding head was disheveled. Stuck to his head were deer antlers affixed with some sort of tree sap and partly ripping the skin from his forehead. He was smeared with fecal matter and he smelled horrid.
"Bastards! What did they DO to you, old friend?" He queried. "I need attendance here!!!" he shouted to his slave girls. "Clean him up, and take him to the illness bays. Get him checked out at once!" He ordered. "It will be alright, old chum. It's my turn to take care of you now."
Alfred wouldn't speak a word. He seemed traumatized by the whole ordeal.Slaves lit the candles of the room. Alfred was in rags which seemed to be his former formal wear now tattered nearly beyond recognition.
D'Sar followed the slave girls into Alfred's bath to supervise. Great care was to be taken to restore him back to normal.
"Lord D'Sar..." a slave girl said as she bowed with her eyes lowered to the floor. Slaves were not permitted to look directly into the eyes of their masters. "Captain Garrett wishes to see you."
"Hmmm... Handle this. I shall return." he replied. Concentrating a moment, he folded time and space and teleported away to Captain Garrett. The Captain was in the courtyard where they were having drills. He bowed deeply as D'Sar arrived in a blast of smoke. "Report." D'Sar barked, still annoyed about Alfred.
"Milord... You need to see something. Please follow me." the officer replied.
They walked to the battle practice arena where the Dark Governess was standing. She had an odd frown on her face. "If you would do the honors, General...there's something you need to see."
Maddened spar demons flew from a portal of hell opened up with an incantation uttered from the lips of the Undead Lord. With a swipe of a blade, a lash of a whip, or a stomp of her massive boots they could easily be dispatched by the giant woman. Only this time was different. As she raised her butterfly swords to attack, they mystically turned into knitting needles and her whip transformed into a spool of yarn with which she would begrudgingly sit down on the ground and begin KNITTING!
The look of shock and horror on Darkstar's face was priceless for those who might be peering through scrying pools. The Governess simply shrugged and kept knitting. Her giant eyes welled up a little. She enjoyed battle. One of her most enjoyable past times was a good scrap. Now she was mystically forced to sit idle and knit.
"How is this...?" Darkstar began. Then he stopped. "Methinks the gods are having a laugh at my expense. Perhaps it is the Trickster. I have no idea. Not that I needed another problem on my plate."
Darkstar took a mighty leap into the air and landed on the shoulder of the giantess. Whispering in her ear, he said it simply in assurance..."Don't worry Governess. I'm sure this will pass. Possibly some silly Norlondarian penalty for battling a god. We'll get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, knit yourself a nice dress."
Jumping down, cape unfurled behind him, Darkstar slammed into the ground, feet first and knuckled fist to the cracked ground. Lifting his head towards Garrett, he said simply, "Fortify" in a snarl.
Garrett raised an eyebrow. "Pardon me, Lord?"
" With the threat of near civil war with Hellfire, I need things to change. How are we with new recruits?" asked the Dark General.
"Our newest son of darkness, Lotharius is doing rather well in the new classes. He's almost up to full capacity in his training. He should do rather well. He heralds from a long line of warriors."
"Far too many things to do to put this place in order. Garrett, you're in command. I must check on Kurgan's progress, Alfred's progress, surmise the problematic enchantment of the Governess and figure out whether we are at war with our allies." he said somberly. "I need a vacation" he muttered, shaking his head and rubbing his temples.
Darkstar turned and walked to the Tower. Garrett saluted, yet he didn't think his Lord was paying attention. All he could hear was his god muttering like a madman to himself.