[Mkguild] MK: In the Shadow of the Sundered Shield

[Hallan Mirayas]

In the Shadow of the Sundered Shield

by Hallan Mirayas

 

Author's warning: GRAPHIC violence and gore ahead.  Viewer discretion is advised.

 

-----

 

March 28, 708

 

    Revonos
leaned on the arm of his throne, pondering as he watched the arena fight.  His recent acquisition, Carcarak, fought
below, and fought magnificently.  He
leaped in to strike and leaped out again, rarely doing so without acquiring a
fresh stain of blood on his teeth to match his deeply blood-soaked fur.  Already, within a single month, fame was
spreading in the Hells of the mighty Beast of Revonos, the Red Jaws, the Blood
Wolf.

 

    Revonos did
not often take the time to ponder things. 
Indeed, if any of the other members of the Pantheon were asked, especially that sissy Dokorath, he
thought, they would say that Revonos -never- pondered things.  Even Suspira, lovely and clever as she was,
underestimated him, and that was just fine with him.  He just felt he drew his greatest power from
raw emotions, that control was not the right path for a warrior.  He -had- control, he just rarely used
it.  If they wanted to believe something
else, well, then that just made them easier targets.  

 

    Still, his
new war wolf intrigued and puzzled him enough to be worth the pause for
contemplation.  Rarely had he seen a
creature more receptive to Revonos' rage and hatred, and yet so coldly
calculating when left to his own devices. 
On his own, he fought with a cold, ruthless fury as merciless as Revonos
could possibly desire.  Not for nothing
was he also called the Frozen Flame.

 

    It had
seemed so easy breaking him.  His pride
had shattered like brittle glass.  His
foolish ideas about compassion and mercy had folded after only a few lessons in
pain.  His compunctions about 'fairness'
and 'decency' had melted like a house of sand. 
Carcarak had cast everything of his former life aside... except for one
thing.  By the time Revonos had realized
there was a part of his war wolf that would not yield, Carcarak's mind had
drawn so fiercely around it that Revonos could not determine what it was.  All he knew was that it was a devotion to
someone or something, so powerful that it defied all efforts to quash that tiny
pocket of rebellion, that shred of final resistance.  Its fierceness was a blinding radiance, a
backed-into-the-corner, last ditch, final stand from which there would be no
shrinking.  Its ferocity bordered on
insanity, a state of mind with which Revonos was very familiar indeed.  As a warrior, Revonos could understand and
even admire the result, but he could not understand the source.  What was it that kept Carcarak fighting?  Could there possibly be something to all of
Dokorath's blatherings about loyalty?

 

    Revonos
spat in disgust and lashed the chain binding his war wolf to him, blasting the
beast with raw pain for inspiring such an odious thought.  "Feh. 
Never."  He watched as the
wolf rode through the pain, turning it into fury that he used to literally tear
one of his opponents apart in a delightful spray of blood and body parts.

 

    He would
break, sooner or later.  They always broke.  And yet, to his surprise, Revonos realized
that he would regret it when that happened. 
It was what made the war wolf so interesting a plaything and, he
suspected, so devastating in the arena.

 

    Revonos
peered at the war wolf again as the beast fought on, his brow furrowed in
puzzlement.  "What makes you hold
on, my Blood-Drinker?  What is it that
you cling to so tightly?  What makes you
so strong?"

 

    Below,
Carcarak hamstrung his last opponent, a balrog, and he leapt away while the creature
fell, gulping down the mouthful of still quivering muscle that he had
taken.  He darted in again to destroy the
other hamstring, once again ripping it free and eating it where the balrog
could see.  Revonos smiled.  Such a showman.  The crowds loved it, and they flooded his
coffers with soul tar to see it.  Even
that stuck-up prig Agemnos had to admit that Revonos had discovered a true
prize.

 

    The wolf
circled carefully, watching the balrog's whip, and moved only when he saw the
bull-creature commit to a strike.  Once,
twice he dodged, and on the third strike he caught the whip in his jaws and
ripped it from the balrog's hands, contemptuously biting it in half before
devouring that, too.

 

    Carcarak
stared into its eyes for a long moment, letting it savor its pain and its
upcoming death, freezing it with those fearsome golden eyes before lunging forward
and ripping each bicep.  Knocking it onto
its back with a powerful shoulder, he left it helpless but still alive as he
bit into its belly and feasted on its entrails, working up through the stomach
and into the chest, dragging each organ out into view for the crowd's pleasure
before devouring it.  He left the heart
and lungs for last, just so it could moan and scream.

 

    He cracked
open the chest next, crunching his way one by one through the ribs, and bit the
still pumping heart in half.  He quickly
gulped that portion down with a single swallow and took the rest into his mouth
to drink the balrog dry.  Only when he
had suckled every last drop from the beast's veins did he bite through and eat
the rest.

 

    Carcarak
had just lifted his bloodied head to the cheers of the crowd when an audacious
imp, perhaps feeling secure in its fast healing, landed next to him and made a
grab for the choice meat.  The Beast of
Revonos slapped it onto its back with a sweep of his forepaw and pinned it down
nearly hard enough to crush it.  He
growled furiously and, when it started to protest, he bit off its head and ate
it while the imp regenerated.  When it
started yelling about how much that hurt, he yawned widely, and then bit off
its head again.  This time he waited
until it could see before he crushed that skull in his jaws and swallowed it to
join the first.  He growled again, a low
warning that the arena had to hush to hear. 
"Alright! 
Alright!"  The imp
screamed.  "I was just hungry,
okay?!"

 

    Blood and
gore dripping from his chin, Carcarak leaned down and smiled.  The look was unmistakable and sent a chill of
fear through many who saw it.  Especially
the imp, who got a nice close view just before the wolf bit off its head again,
waited, and then spat it out so it bounced off the new head freshly grown in
its place.  His message was clear.  When he let the imp up, it took the head and
flew hastily away.

 

    The crowds
roared with laughter, all the way up to and including Revonos himself.  Carcarak heard, straightened up, and turned
to bow his head in reverent obeisance to his master.  His head tilted slightly so Revonos could
once more see, as he enjoyed so much, the purposely shaved area over Akkala's
dead, blackened Mark.

 

    And all the
while, in his head, Carcarak repeated to himself, Do what you have to do.  Survive
at any cost.  Popularity is favor.  Favor is life.  He will come. 
He will not leave me here.

 

    He will come.  He -will- come.  Must... 
Must remember...  Must.  Remember.  Misha!

 

    But NEVER
let Revonos know.

 

    Up on his
throne, Revonos frowned anew, sensing in that letter-perfect bow a tiny seed of
rebellion.  Such a puzzling
creature.  Such a very puzzling creature
indeed.

 

Fin.

 		 	   		  
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