The Bloody Eye

18

Archprelate Laud observed the uncertainty on Calmet's face and lectured his star pupil once again. "I promise you a demonstration of power that you will never forget." He escorted Calmet along the cavern walls and pointed out the characteristics of each hybrid warrior. "Here's an interesting one," the hierarch expounded. "I was planning to use these as shock troops."

Laud snapped his fingers, and the chained orc soldier contorted its face until the skin pulled away from the skull, exposing bare bone.

No sooner had Laud revealed the purpose of the strange monstrosity than it unleashed a horrid screech. The archprelate watched with amusement as Calmet mustered every ounce of courage within himself to remain rooted beside Laud. Laud wanted his apostate apprentice to visualize how entire armies might run away upon seeing the death mask visage and hearing the preternatural wail of his monster. After all, Calmet was obviously growing in power and needed to be reeducated on the depth of his tutor's ingenuity.

Laud pointed to the next specimen, a beefy human knight encased in a brown, crusty suit of armor. As Calmet looked closer, however, Laud pointed out the chitinous shoulders bulging out from the freakish human's torso and the arms encased in an insect's armored shell. The massive arms fairly dragged the ground like a troll's, even though the mutated human was standing upright in the alcove. Laud seemed particularly anxious to demonstrate to Calmet that the chitinous arms ended in sharp, clawlike pincers instead of hands.

Laud couldn't wait to explain how he formed these diabolical nightmares. He was proud of his accomplishments, and he gave no credence whatsoever to the Peloran admonition that pride presages a plunge. Laud wasn't even sure he liked the proverb's alliterative conceit, much less its philosophy that pandered to the weak.

As he led Calmet to the next monstrosity, he calmly explained that he had done considerable research in necromancy and transmutation since turning to the one-eyed god.

"Gruumsh honors the strong," contended the archprelate, "and what is stronger than the victor? Every time I heard of a monster being slain, I sent my men to gather vital body parts. I took the combat ready portions of a monster's body and sewed them onto amputated and decapitated humanoids."

Laud amused himself by watching the Gruumshlike tinge of green that colored Calmet's face as his pupil considered the implications behind Laud's words.

"Decapitated?" the younger cleric asked.

"Decapitated," affirmed Laud. "Of course, one must then raise the dead without destroying the transmutation magic and the potency of the necromancy. You saw my ethereal slaughterer, did you not?"

When Calmet's face looked blank, Laud continued, "It's an ethereal marauder, really, but I can't wait to unleash it on southern troops. I hope it lives up to my new name."

The next specimen would have looked human enough were it not for the blue-black tentacles protruding from his shoulder blades. The tentacles were long and curled menacingly in front of the abomination, each ending in a lighter, almost violet pad filled with thornlike protrusions.

"Strike him!" the archprelate commanded Calmet.

Calmet hesitated.

"Strike him!" ordered the hierarch once more.

Calmet brought his flail out and aimed the blow viciously at the unfortunate's face. The priest nearly winced as the weapon struck unerringly, but he was glad he hadn't. If he had winced, he wouldn't have believed that the blow passed through the monster without causing any injury, or without actually striking anything whatsoever.

Laud cackled with pleasure. "Try again," commanded the harsh taskmaster.

Calmet focused on his swing and prepared to bash the monster's head in. He knew for certain that he would connect this time. He didn't.

"Will I always miss?" Calmet asked his mentor.

"No, not always," laughed Laud with a sinister chuckle. "I believe you'll miss about half the time. That's often enough for him to destroy his enemies by attrition. He keeps wounding and weakening them while they…" Laud couldn't resist the pun as he glanced at Calmet's weapon, "flail away aimlessly."

"How do you know?" the younger priest queried.

"By testing them in battle, of course," came Laud's patronizing answer.

"You have them fight each other?" asked Calmet in amazement. "Aren't they too rare to kill in experimentation?"

"Don't be absurd," scoffed Laud. "When you're dealing with necromancy, you merely bring back the dead. But I tire of talk. Let me show you."

The archprelate called out to several guards in a nearby passage and ordered them to take the chitinous atrocity to the pit in the adjoining cavern.

"Now, you'll see a display of raw power such as you've never seen before."

Laud watched without sympathy as one guard was injured and another killed in the process of moving the two monsters. After a time of inhuman growling and roaring, mixed with the shouts of the unfortunate handlers, the two clerics moved to the edge of the pit and observed two horrors squaring off beneath them. One was the fighter with insectoid armor. The other was a large humanoid with black scales and a head shaped like a bull's.

"A minotaur?" Calmet guessed aloud before the archprelate pointed out that the long horns jutting from the bovine head were silver.

"No," Laud corrected his pupil, "a gorgon. I think you'll enjoy the results."

The battle began. The gorgonoid charged the insectoid in an attempt to gore the longarmed foe. The insectoid twisted and brought its right claw down in a raking attack against the gorgonoid's unprotected eyes. The claw drew an inhuman ichor from the exposed eye and caused the bull's head to thrash from side to side until a horn contacted the insectoid's torso and its sharp point plunged into the creature's chest like a dagger.

The pincerlike claws of the punctured foe smashed against the scales of the gorgonoid, ripping loose some of the monster's natural armor and spraying a fountain of stinking liquid from under the scales. Pained, the gorgonoid jumped back and breathed a noxious gas at the insectoid. Whatever the breath was, it seemed to do no damage to the insectoid, which didn't slow its aggressive onslaught.

"Well done!" shouted Laud, his blood lust revealed in breathless excitement. "It often turns its foes to stone in the first attack. Now, it must hang on and regenerate that substance in its lungs!"

Calmet's eyes widened as claw and horn continued ripping the opponents to shreds. Each new wound seemed to enthuse Laud with an almost sexual excitement until the gorgonoid stepped back and exhaled its noxious breath once more. The putrid looking cloud erupted from the gorgonoid's mouth and enfolded itself around the insectoid warrior like a shroud, just as before. However, when the cloud cleared a moment later, a stone statue of the monstrosity stood in its place.

Laud clapped his hands like a child, and Calmet followed suit, afraid to do anything else. The cleric understood another vital element in the archprelate's plan; how he intended to fuel the revolution once the shrine was restored. With these monsters at the forefront of his armies and the power of Gruumsh at his disposal, there was no doubt that Laud would rule the land. He might even invade the southern regions. Revenge was a savory morsel to the powerful.