Richard Knaak: The Gargoyle King

“He said he would come, and yet again he has not!” snapped the middle of the trio in the musical tongue. As his mouth opened, much of the perfection of his face was lost due to the savage rows of sharklike teeth.

Morgada smiled back at him; the female Titan’s teeth were less pronounced but still very sharp. She was as beautiful as they were handsome … more so. The most wondrous elf maiden paled before her dark glory. Her raven hair flowed unbound nearly to her waist, and although her garments were almost identical to those worn by the males, they were shaped to fit her lush form well.

“The master delves into the myriad intricacies of the Fire Rose, Kulgrath,” she replied with half-veiled eyes in the same tongue. “Time is immaterial where the study of the artifact is involved. You would be wise to be patient.”

Kulgrath spread his hands in frustration, displaying the long, ebony nails at the ends of his fingers from which the Titan inner circle, the Black Talon, took its name. Like those of his comrades, they were strong and deadly nails capable of ripping open a throat or disemboweling a foe. Farther back, at the elbow, small, jagged hooks sprouted out of his skin. They, too, were sharp, though of a more ornamental nature. “What does the master need to study? He transformed an entire city with but a whim! He turned Falstoch from an abomination into a Titan again! Surely, he needs no further research into these-”

Though her smile remained, Morgada’s voice evidenced a slight chill. “And you would dictate this message to the master?”

The pair with Kulgrath drew back a step from him. Sensing their withdrawal, he bowed his head slightly and smiled back at Morgada. “I would never question the wisdom of the master! It’s just that we are in the dark; we only seek enlightenment.”

“And the Fire Rose to use as you desire, yes?”

“I don’t deny that I wish to take my turn at commanding it, as Safrag did promise us, but of course when he has deemed the moment proper! We are also concerned for him as well, for we all know the legends of the Fire Rose and its dangers. Even the master should beware of those, Morgada.”

“The master-”

The ground trembled. Kulgrath and his companions instinctively reached for support. Only Morgada stood in place, oddly amused. The ogre lands were known for their tremors, some of which had tortured and ripped apart the capital in ancient times. Yet she only smiled in the face of potential destruction.

The walls suddenly rushed away from one another. Great, fluted columns shot from the floor, rising to meet a ceiling abruptly three stories high. The floor itself, once white marble, bore a bluish tint akin to the outside walls.

Striding along as if all was still and not in chaos, Morgada moved toward a rounded window that had just opened in the wall near to her. The male Titans stumbled after, clutching at whatever was available to them, including each other’s arms.

And through the window, they saw that not only had their surroundings changed again, not only had the palace once more shifted form, but all of Dai Ushran had been transformed anew. The outer wall had blocky, square projections thrusting outward at the top. The towers were taller and broader and three points crowned each, with the face of Safrag molded into the sides.

A great, golden hill arose in the north quarter, and atop it stood a triangular temple with shining columns that arched skyward. Like the towers, it had a three-pointed roof. The temple was nearly the height of the palace and had a winding path composed of something like glittering diamonds running down the new hill.

As the city quieted, ogres poured from their dwellings into the streets. There was panic, for even their own homes had not gone unchanged. They sported designs akin to the towers and the temple, and the face of Safrag could be found peering out from hundreds of citizens’ walls.

“What-what is he doing?” Kulgrath gasped, eyes wide in awe.

“It would seem that he’s changed his mind about some of his earlier designs,” Morgada sang.

“‘Changed’ … this is the third time now in days … and the most extravagant!” Kulgrath peered at one nearby visage, and his golden orbs could not hide their jealousy. “Most extravagant …”

“I was about to return to the master when I sensed your call. If you like, I shall extend your concerns to him.”

The male Titan anxiously shook his head. “There’s no need, Morgada, no need.”

Bowing to them-displaying well some of the physical attributes that Kulgrath and others believed the true reason for her trusted place beside the master-Morgada purred, “As you like.”

Ebony flames burst up from the floor and engulfed her. The female sorcerer vanished, her satisfied smile somehow lingering a moment longer.

“This was a foolish act,” one of the other Titans muttered. “She will tell Safrag of our complaints, and he will use the Fire Rose on us next!”

“He dares not,” retorted Kulgrath. “The Titans are one! It’s that female who causes any problems among us. Safrag will see that once we speak with him! He will listen to reason.”

“Yes,” returned the other, not sounding at all convinced. “We must keep telling ourselves that, mustn’t we?”

Kulgrath did not answer, saying no more, instead looking out the window again at the nearest of the huge, decorative faces and frowning.

Slowly-ever so slowly-the panic of the ogres of Dai Ushran was replaced first with calm then with renewed anticipation. The latest transformation of their city was surely a sign that the Titan leader was merely readying things for the race’s own fantastic change. He was merely making the capital worthy of their future. Soon, so very soon, he would no doubt appear at the palace steps and begin their metamorphosis from tusked, hairy brutes to beings more powerful than even their ancestors had been.

The many ogres milled around for some time, waiting. However, as more time passed and nothing happened, gradually the crowds filtered back into their altered dwellings. Safrag would summon them when it was time. Surely, he would.

But a shrouded figure flanked by four gargoyles had observed all that from the mountains beyond the capital and did not share their belief. With long, white, oval orbs-the only part of the face not hidden by either the deep gray and black hood atop his head or the tight, golden cloth wrapped across everything below those deathly eyes-the figure had avidly surveyed the new transformation. It chuckled, giving a hint of a masculine identity but nothing more than a hint.

The gargoyles reacted to the chuckle with low, staccato grunts that were their kind’s sign of amusement. Nearly as tall as a human when standing straight, they were twice as wide and all muscle. Their musky scent was strong but went unnoticed by their master. They were gray of varying shades, with huge, leathery wings that opened and closed at times as they sought to disperse some of the heat constantly building up due to the oppressive sun.

Their master loomed over them, taller than a human, shorter than an ogre. His shadowy form was thin, and the hands that suddenly stretched out from the voluminous folds of the sleeves were utterly white and all but fleshless. The dark garment in which the gargoyles’ lord was clad hung to the ground and almost seemed to cloak nothing but air.

So very perfect… came a rasping voice that was not audible, but rather reverberated in the heads of the winged creatures. All the puppets play their roles. Soon, very soon, the long wait will be over .

With another chuckle, the shrouded figure simply faded away. The gargoyles bent their heads low then took to the air.

And far below, Dai Ushran suddenly trembled again. The great wall shimmered. The towers spread wide, and their crowns grew rounded.