"Most of those stories are exaggerations, young man." Casstus replied simply. "How is Kagen? With his Harem I hope."
"Yes Lord Casstus, he is and getting fat since the end of the war." Horib ended with a soft laugh. He was obviously the eldest and most dominate of the brothers.
Casstus didn't particularly care about the two in front of him or their father. He was focused on the twenty tense warriors that he sensed hidden around the massive and mostly pitch black hall.
The Dark Disciple of the Wicked Flame could pick out five to his right with crossbows at-the-ready, 10 scattered behind him - assorted weapons in hand. The other five crouched aggressively, on the balls of their feet like Ridge Tigers waiting to strike.
He stared crystal blue daggers at the two brothers eyes until uneasiness field them and they stepped behind the throne.
"Shall we, Master?" Casstus smirked briefly. Drakath chuckled in amusement, "We shall, my Disciple" And waved his massive hand.
Casstus stayed seated but turned his chair to the left as crossbow twangs echoed through the strangely silent hall followed instantly by dull thuds as the quarrels impacted the teak wood and red-velvet chair. Now, directly in front of him, the five Deathguards poised to leap from the shadows met a hail of tiny balls of fire spewing from the outstretched fingers of the Dark Disciples hands. Each marble-sized globe of flame scorched and seared themselves through bone and flesh, leather and metal with equal intensity; burning vital organs and killing instantly anyone caught in the fiery spray. He rolled head-over-heels into the darkness and disappeared.
Casstus, using his late father's teachings, melded into the shadows as he stooped to retrieve a sabre and knives from the nearly incinerated body of a foolish Deathguard. He pressed himself against a pillar breathing heavily as he slipped a dozen throwing-stars and daggers into various slits and slots in his heavy leather armor. Calling on the chaotic and barely controllable ball of strength and will, what he had begun to call Mani, allowed him to do amazing things but at a cost.
Every time he forced strength into his limbs to achieve unbelievable speed and power or channeled the inherent heat of his body to throw flaming balls of fire, he weakened and needed a moment to recover. The Disciple had to be especially careful of drawing to greatly upon his Mani for it could utterly destroy him, burning his body from the inside and leaving nothing but ash and melted jewelry.
The Dark Disciple took a deep breath, steadying the raging inferno of power threatening to burst through the mental barrier encompassing it, then leaped dozens of feet over his toppled chair and landed in the middle of five startled crossbowmen trying desperately to crank their bow winches. With a flurry of slashes and cuts, dodges and parries - all blazingly fast and lightening quick - eviscerated bodies began crumpling to the ground without so much as a muffled moan.
Again Casstus flattened himself against a pillar and channeled Mani to enhance his senses, sending them out across the great hall. He could smell the fear and anxiety of the ten remaining Deathguards. He heard the faintest sounds of sabers, swords and pikes lightly brushing leather or metal and the hushed whispers of the remaining Deathguards.
"Fal protect us where is this monster?" One croaked quietly.
"Fal protects the brave not cowards, Dratith. Undercap'n, Raldamnit what …" Casstus pulled his senses back not interested in their plan, he had his own,
Stepping from the darkness, saber held loosely in his hand as he drug the tip across the rock floor, Casstus Raye the Invincible strolled nonchalantly into the center of the big hall. "Undercaptain,, order your troops if you must but I would rather not kill such a distinguished and recognized unit of Drakarr'Kan's finest." He said that last word with an indignant snort attached to the end. Through his Mani enhanced senses he could hear growls and curses and snarls. And then the patter of leather soled feet moving swiftly over the granite floor.
With the same blazing speed of his sword-work, the Dark Disciple hurled throwing stars and knives with his free hand into the rushing Deathguards. Nine bodies fell, leaving the Undercaptain - recognizable by the crossed swords embroidered on his collars - charging straight for Casstus.
The Dark Disciple and soon to be Ta'Fain of the Wicked Flame, sidestepped and crouched at the very last instant using all his might and the tiniest bit of Mani to drive the saber through the officer, cutting him in two at the waist. The momentum of the running man carried his bottom half several paces while his torso toppled forward, spilling organs and intestines in a sickening plop.
Casstus stepped over the still gurgling and sputtering Undercaptain sticking the blade into his chest and continued toward Drakath and the applauding brothers.
