Duke Langdon sent the call to his
followers, requesting they all come to his mansion immediately
to hear news of the latest discoveries in Dereth. The covenant
crystal hummed with the arrival of each follower, and soon the
Duke's audience chamber was filled to overflowing with people
all struggling to hear this news.
Seated in his throne at the
front of the chamber, the Duke addressed his messenger.
"You mean to tell me that there is yet another
island off the coast of Dereth?"
"Yes, Your Grace,"
responded his liegeman diffidently.
"What is that, the fifth
island discovered?" Langdon grumbled. "How many
islands are there around this accursed isle?"
"Well, Your Grace," a
figure standing beside the Duke's throne began. "If you
count the individual Vesayen Isles, this would be at least the
twelfth such island. Likely there are quite a few more; all the
records we've discovered point to Dereth being part of an
archipelago."
"Thank you, Kinross,"
the Duke sighed. He pinched his fingers to rub the bridge of
nose. "I appreciate you being studious in your duties as
Vizier; however, the question was merely rhetorical."
Kinross bowed his head.
"Yes, Your Grace."
Turning his attention back to
the messenger who remained kneeling before him, the Duke asked,
"And the name of this new island?"
"Actually it consists of
two islands, Your Grace, so these would be the thirteenth and
fourteenth islands discovered-"
"Yes, thank you!" the
Duke cut in abruptly. "The number of the islands is not
important at the moment. What is the name of this new
island?"
"Aphus Lassel, Your
Grace."
"Another Empyrean
name," the Duke sighed. "How did you come to find this
island?"
"I was exploring the
northern wilds of Osteth when I came across a pack of Tuskers.
Standing in the center of this group was a shrine of some sort.
The Tuskers seemed unusually interested in defending it."
"I see, and what did this
shrine look like?"
"A Tusker, Your
Grace."
"Interesting," the
Duke said. He turned to address his Vizier. "Kinross, do
you think the Tuskers have developed some sort of totemic belief
system? Perhaps due to the Virindi influence?"
"No."
The Duke blinked.
"'No?"
"No… Your Grace."
Duke Langdon sighed and turned
back to his liegeman. "Please continue your tale. You found
a shrine, you said?"
"Yes, Your Grace. After
defeating the Tuskers surrounding it, I approached the shrine
and suddenly found myself tumbling through portalspace. Once the
haze of portal magic faded, I was standing on the island. Well,
one of the two islands that-"
"Yes, yes," the Duke
said, beckoning the man to continue with an impatient wave of
his hand.
"Well, Your Grace, I found
myself in what could best be called a village, although it was
unlike any village I had ever seen. The buildings all stood on
stilts, and as I climbed up to the platforms, I found Isparians
living in the buildings."
"People you say? What did
you learn from the townsfolk?"
"Nothing, Your Grace."
"Nothing? Were they
unwilling to talk?"
"No, Your Grace, they
seemed unable to talk. The only sounds I ever heard from them
were a few grunts. They were almost totally unresponsive, except
when it came to the Tuskers around them. They seemed unusually
dedicated to their Tusker masters."
"Interesting." The
Duke rubbed his chin. "An island where Tuskers rule over
men?"
"Your Grace, it is not
unheard of for we Isparians to be dominated by another
species," Kinross interrupted. "You, of course, recall
the dark years when the Olthoi enslaved us, forcing us to
prepare that disgusting gruel they fed to their grubs."
"Thank you for that history
lesson, Kinross," the Duke said sharply. "Although,
again, it was simply a rhetorical question."
Muttering under his breath, the
Duke turned his attention back to the man kneeling before the
dais. "What other information do you have to offer
us?"
"Well Your Grace, it
appears the Tuskers have a king of sorts," the man replied.
"Surprisingly, some of the Tuskers' grunts were almost
understandable. The ones I defeated would occasionally speak of
their king as they fell."
"A king? Amazing!" the
Duke exclaimed. "Kinross, what do you make of this
discovery?"
"Nothing," Kinross
said then quickly added "Your Grace."
The Duke muttered more
noticeably this time, but then turned back to his follower and
said, "Does this king have a name, or do you know how he
can be found?"
The man shifted uncomfortably.
"Well, Your Grace, I might have heard his name." He
paused.
"And his name is…"
the Duke prompted.
"Well, I'm not sure I
understood them correctly, Your Grace. The Tuskers' grunts were
difficult to understand."
"That's fine, just tell us
what you think you heard."
"As I said though, Your
Grace, the Tuskers' grunts were barely what I would call
speech-"
"Just tell us the
name!" the Duke bellowed.
"Bobo," the man said
quietly.
The Duke blinked for a moment,
opening and closing his mouth as he searched for something to
say. Finally he blurted, "Bobo?"
"Yes, Your Grace. Bobo."
The Duke sat silent for a moment
longer, then suddenly stood up and spoke in a loud,
authoritative voice, "This audience is at an end."
As he stalked out of the room,
the Duke muttered loudly under his breath, gesturing angrily in
response to the discussion he was carrying out with himself.
Once he was gone, the audience chamber exploded in conversation,
each person wondering what to make of this island of Aphus
Lassel and its mysterious king.
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