“What did you say serf?” the Archmage demanded.

“No offence was meant, my Lord. I was just repeating what I heard from one of
Mystagogue Sharuk’s aides. He overheard the Mystagogue say to the Warlord that
you were involved in secret meetings with the Great House d’Murani. I believe
he was trying to insinuate that you were planning to depose the Warlord with
their assistance”, the serf deferentially replied.

“Ha, so that fool Sharuk thinks he can out-manoeuvre me, one of Lord Fain’s
most loyal and devout followers? I will enjoy feeding his entrails to the city
mutts. But tell me, how did the Mystagogue find out about my meetings with the
d’Murani? I took many precautions to ensure my actions remained unseen, indeed
the only other person who knew of my meeting with the d’Murani was my personal
scribe.”

Terror struck the serf, “My Lord, I swear to you, I would never betray your
trust. Perhaps the wagging tongue belonged to one of the House d’Murani. It
was you who removed me from the depths of the Undercity; I am eternally in your
debt. You must believe me!” the serf wailed, cowering before the Marquis’s
cold stare.

The Archmage rose from his luxuriant golden throne and viciously backhanded the
grovelling scribe, his jagged nails drawing blood from the serf’s cheek.
“And don’t forget that fact maggot, I raised you and I can just as easily
cast you back to those pariahs. Why the Warlord has allowed their continued
existence, I shall never know. The only fact that soothes me is that their days
are numbered. When I am Warlord, there shall be a great purge. Now remove
yourself from my sight, your filthy, incompetent form disgusts me. You have left
me with much to think about before the next council meeting.”

/********************************************************************/

The Archmage yawned, the council meeting was already dragging on, thanks to a
rambling sermon from the Heresiarch on Lord Gorgulu’s many beliefs and how
best to instruct the city populace of them. ‘A fool that Heresiarch, everyone
knew that the only belief the churning mass of the Devourer now had was that of
greed’, thought the Archmage, a faint smirk crossing his face, now knowing
where to strike. The first step was to anger the Heresiarch, a fool she was, but
a fool with power she wanted to keep.

The Archmage took a quick glance around the obsidian council chamber, Sharuk
was whispering into the ear of the Warlord. It was time to act, before the
Warlord really started to listen to Sharuk’s meddling whispers. The Archmage
beckoned to his scribe and whispered, “Take this message to the d’Murani
delegate, tell him we have been compromised, I am taking the necessary steps to
rectify the situation. That is all”

The scribe stepped back into the shadows and soundlessly made his way to the
d’Murani delegation. “I have a message from the Archmage for your master”
he hissed to one of the d’Murani guards. The guard nodded and let him pass,
returning his leering eyes to the elfen slave girl who was preparing the
after-council feast. Ensuring that there was no one around to overhear, the
scribe crouched and whispered the Archmage’s message into the delegate’s
ear. A near imperceptible nod was the only response. Almost immediately, he
heard his master’s voice, laden with contempt, cutting sharply into the
Heresiarch’s ramblings.

“My esteemed Heresiarch, your lucid oration on the Devourer’s teachings has
been riveting. Indeed your insight into Lord Gorgulu’s greed has inspired this
interruption. Now pardon my base understanding, but when I think of greed, I
think of accumulating increasing amounts of wealth and power. Could you perhaps
elucidate as to why our recent attempt of dominion over the Angkrag mines met
with such humiliating failure?” the Archmage calmly asked.

“Perhaps your priests of greed should have been more adept at instilling
shock and awe of the Engine into a few pathetic miners? It seems your hunger has
been sated with rituals and sermons and you let the mines fall under the sway of
those deluded Glomdorians. Need I remind you that our Warlord has charged your
priests with spreading word of the glory of the Engine to the villages? We need
more than lip service to the Engine, your greed must be made manifest with
results!” the Archmage finished.

Another voice from the d’Murani delegate continued the assault, “Indeed
Warlord, the Archmage is correct. Through their ineptitude in Angkrag, the
Heresiarch has not only weakened the city but has also allowed our family
interests in the mines to be lost to the Glomdoring. Our family demands
compensation! Also as Minister of Trade, I report that the city now has
insufficient iron to complete its orders and it is our city defenders, the
Ur’Guard who will suffer the most.”

Hearing this, the Supreme Commander of the Ur’Guard went into a bull rage,
charging towards the Heresiarch before being restrained by several shackles
summoned by the Warlord’s elite guards. The Archmage smiled, the taurian
Commander did not have the intellect to follow the subtleties in play and had
only heard that the Heresiarch had caused the Ur’Guard to suffer. It was
indeed a nice play by the d’Murani delegate.

With the Commander finally restrained, a shocked hush filled the council
chamber. Those council-members previously slumbering in their seats were now
wide-awake with full attention turned towards the stuttering Heresiarch.

“Warlord I assure you, it is not my fault. As Heresiarch, I lead and instruct
the city faithful in the teachings of our beloved Demon Lords, the actual
training of our priests in the ways of influencing and village preaching I leave
in the hands of my Mystagogue Sharuk. The blame lies with him and he will be
castigated, I promise you.”

“Castigation is not sufficient, Heresiarch. For such a gross offence, he must
serve as an example of what happens to those who fail the Empire” the Archmage
suggested. “Agreed” responded both the Ur’Guard and d’Murani
delegations, with the remaining delegations following suit. The Heresiarch had
nowhere to turn to in the face of a unified council. “It shall be done” she
replied with her head hung.

Hearing this submission, Sharuk’s eyes flashed with rage as he turned to the
Archmage, directing a ball of cosmicfire towards him. The Archmage was ready for
this and deftly stepped aside shouting, “Treachery, you all saw it! The
Mystagogue is a traitor!”

The Warlord nodded, at which his elite guards webbed Sharuk. “Heresiarch, it
seems your guild lacks both discipline and knowledge, this is something we
cannot tolerate in the Engine. I advise you choose your next Mystagogue more
carefully and expect you to be fully prepared for the next village revolt, your
own life depends on it. Now execute the traitor”, the Warlord commanded,
pointing to the bound Sharuk.

The Heresiarch bowed and removed a sacrificial dagger from her robes. Stepping
behind Sharuk and uttering a short prayer to Lord Luciphage, the Heresiarch
quickly grabbed Sharuk by the hair, forced his head back and slit his throat,
allowing the blood to spurt over the council table.

The Archmage watched until the last spark of life left Sharuk’s eyes and then
allowed himself a smile as the Warlord continued, “I believe the next item on
the agenda is the preparation for the Bloodfaire?”