Costs

RADIX MALORUM

The demon was pacing his cavernous chamber. Gray robes hissing over the ground. His angst apparent to anyone that entered his den today. He had no patience to spare anyone.

He looked up at the yellow skinned ogre standing in his doorway. Pointed ears and pointed teeth made him distinctly unappealing to look at. “Get me Chavias!”

The warlord, Radix’s favorite prisoner, had mentored the boy. And Radix wanted him back.

Want to rip him apart for his defiance.

His traitorous nature.

Radix had inspired many a human to turn on their own kind to do as he bid.

But never, never, had a little human turned their back on him and walked away as easily as that one had.

An adept killer, no doubt.

He should be killing for me. Not killing my armies.

“You sures you see him, Master?” Okine asked in his broken way. He’d long since turned from being human and his original language had become somewhat lost over time.

I don’t need him to talk. Just to do what I say. And Okine was an apt command