WhiteDragon47
05-02-2008, 01:51 AM
Prologue: A Perfect Crime
Northwestern Dravidian.
Strobes of lightning solarized the screaming wolf's face. As his cries subsided, thunder roared in the tiny room. Rust-eaten chains bound the wolf to a table of splintered wooden planks. The chains clattered and tensed as the wolf's body jerked in waves of pain.
Above the chain-laced table, two dragons lurked over him. A slender red one held a tipped whip in a clawed hand. The blue dragon, taller and bound with woven muscle, watched the wolf tremble. Their towering figures were silhouetted by the flickering torches mounted into the gray brick walls.
The blue dragon knelt down, his thighs and calves bulging. "Tell me what I want to know," he growled in a sharp accent.
The wolf gritted his fangs and shuddered. Blood streamed down his head and around his miserable face.
The blue dragon lifted his head. "Hit him again."
"He doesn't know anything," the red dragon argued. "We can't do this to him."
"Hit him again!" the blue dragon roared, unsheathing his fangs.
"It's your life I'm trying to save, Mordin! The king will punish you for torturing an innocent foreigner!"
"This beast is not innocent! He has been working with the wolves responsible for killing our ambassador!"
"You don't know that for sure!"
"You--" The blue dragon jerked the coils of rope away and put on a venomous look. He knelt down to the wolf and snatched a look at his furry back. Blood soaked into his fur and dribbled down his sides.
"I know you're not innocent," said Mordin. "I know what I heard from you, I know you have killed our ambassador, and I know you are plotting to kill more of our people, so stop testing my patience!" he roared. "Who's the target?!"
The wolf lifted his head, revealing his squinting bronze eyes. "Do what you want to me," he snarled. "I'm telling you nothing."
The dragon stepped away without a word. With a jerk of his muscular arm, he hurled the rope forward. The whip twitched with a loud snap, slicing into the wolf's side.
A tearing cry howled from the table. The wolf trembled and sobbed as a throbbing wound oozed with blood.
"Mordin, stop this madness!"
"Think about the wounds you already have!" roared Mordin, ignoring the red dragon's plea. "Tell me what I want to know, or I will tear them open again!"
The wolf barked a curse.
"You want to suffer?" Mordin said to the wolf. "Fine!"
Mordin leapt into the air, beginning to whip the rope.
"Stop! STOP!! I'll tell you! I'll tell you!"
The whip dropped from Mordin's hand and fell to the floor like a snake. The red dragon looked on in sudden shock.
"Who's the target?" asked Mordin.
The wolf managed a heavy breath that degenerated into sobs of agony.
"Who's the target?!"
The wolf lifted his contorted face and screamed, "Sûr'Zhegon!"
Mordin's fanged face fell. He looked up at the red dragon, who stood with his mouth and tail limp.
"Send the messengers off!" Mordin roared. "Go!"
The red dragon stared for another second at Mordin before turning to run. He knew that Mordin was right. The wolf's words were "Të Ank Fáristid"--The Perfect Crime.
Mordin rose to his feet and exhaled in relief. Defeated, the wolf hung his bleeding head.
† † †
Northwestern Dravidian.
Strobes of lightning solarized the screaming wolf's face. As his cries subsided, thunder roared in the tiny room. Rust-eaten chains bound the wolf to a table of splintered wooden planks. The chains clattered and tensed as the wolf's body jerked in waves of pain.
Above the chain-laced table, two dragons lurked over him. A slender red one held a tipped whip in a clawed hand. The blue dragon, taller and bound with woven muscle, watched the wolf tremble. Their towering figures were silhouetted by the flickering torches mounted into the gray brick walls.
The blue dragon knelt down, his thighs and calves bulging. "Tell me what I want to know," he growled in a sharp accent.
The wolf gritted his fangs and shuddered. Blood streamed down his head and around his miserable face.
The blue dragon lifted his head. "Hit him again."
"He doesn't know anything," the red dragon argued. "We can't do this to him."
"Hit him again!" the blue dragon roared, unsheathing his fangs.
"It's your life I'm trying to save, Mordin! The king will punish you for torturing an innocent foreigner!"
"This beast is not innocent! He has been working with the wolves responsible for killing our ambassador!"
"You don't know that for sure!"
"You--" The blue dragon jerked the coils of rope away and put on a venomous look. He knelt down to the wolf and snatched a look at his furry back. Blood soaked into his fur and dribbled down his sides.
"I know you're not innocent," said Mordin. "I know what I heard from you, I know you have killed our ambassador, and I know you are plotting to kill more of our people, so stop testing my patience!" he roared. "Who's the target?!"
The wolf lifted his head, revealing his squinting bronze eyes. "Do what you want to me," he snarled. "I'm telling you nothing."
The dragon stepped away without a word. With a jerk of his muscular arm, he hurled the rope forward. The whip twitched with a loud snap, slicing into the wolf's side.
A tearing cry howled from the table. The wolf trembled and sobbed as a throbbing wound oozed with blood.
"Mordin, stop this madness!"
"Think about the wounds you already have!" roared Mordin, ignoring the red dragon's plea. "Tell me what I want to know, or I will tear them open again!"
The wolf barked a curse.
"You want to suffer?" Mordin said to the wolf. "Fine!"
Mordin leapt into the air, beginning to whip the rope.
"Stop! STOP!! I'll tell you! I'll tell you!"
The whip dropped from Mordin's hand and fell to the floor like a snake. The red dragon looked on in sudden shock.
"Who's the target?" asked Mordin.
The wolf managed a heavy breath that degenerated into sobs of agony.
"Who's the target?!"
The wolf lifted his contorted face and screamed, "Sûr'Zhegon!"
Mordin's fanged face fell. He looked up at the red dragon, who stood with his mouth and tail limp.
"Send the messengers off!" Mordin roared. "Go!"
The red dragon stared for another second at Mordin before turning to run. He knew that Mordin was right. The wolf's words were "Të Ank Fáristid"--The Perfect Crime.
Mordin rose to his feet and exhaled in relief. Defeated, the wolf hung his bleeding head.
† † †