An Old Conjurer's Foolishness

"Hello Eseer. Have a seat. Have a drink. We don't want to be moving around too much in here. One of these mages might get confused and think the warriors are starting fights, then turn us all into sheep."
 
Eseer took a seat and sat down across the table from Varsinax.

"You know I only just came back into town and suddenly you show up. It's very strange, and here I thought things had changed. Maybe things have changed, but in some weird alternate reality sort of way. The last time I saw you was after taking castle Ayenee. So what has happened since last we met?"

Realizing it was beginning to sound like to old friends chatting it up, Eseer extended a hand and drained the life from a passerby. Eseer felt positively rejuvenated, he pondered setting loose the strange tentacle creatures he had encountered in the far realm, but didn't want to have to try to hear over the shouts of terror that would bring.
 
"Every castle I ever had, that was in a city, I believe is now destroyed. You probably didn't know this, but the original Castle Ayenee was not in a city. It was way out, alone, way out somewhere in the landscape, hard to reach for the average adventurer. It may still exist."
 
"Hmmm I had left someone in charge while I was gone, Drummond I think it was, it had to be something like that. I wonder what he did with the army I left? All those elder bloods that I had brought back from the dusty decay, like echoes of nightmares, I suppose a second wave of nightmares could always be conjured up. The Duke is most likely still alive. So do you still rule Ayenee? If not then..."

Eseer thought about the prospect of having to rebuild an army and take capital city all over again. It didn't feel him with disdain, but it did seem like insanity.
 
"Yes, I am still king, but I am not here to look for loyalty. Just a drink, and then I'll be on my way."
 
Eseer leaned back in his chair laughing, his hands clapping in a mock gesture of admiration. His chair came forward putting him back on the table. Eseer's eyes were bottomless black lakes of turning chaotic thoughts and plans. He slammed his hands onto the table and kicked back his chair and leaned over the table.

"Loyalty?! HA! How loyal have your followers been to you over the years? I see, but one other I know that has been linked to you here, but again I think that more coincidence than planned. "

Eseer moved away from the table and turned his back to Varsinax. He picked began to work his fingers in the same manner as before when he summoned his blade. He crossed his middle and index fingers, halting whatever he was planning. In the old days he would have had high-ranking officials slain, those closest to Varsinax killed and changelings put in their place loyal to him. He would have worked out plans for months, sometimes years simply to get what he wanted without the knowledge of those holding it. Sometimes trickery would not be all, he could raise the dead and pry secrets, blackmail. There was a reason people in power hated necromancy. Today what he wanted seemed suddenly like a bauble won at a county fair.

The mere thought of being king of Ayenee, being a title no one respected, no one honored. A lawless land, he had wanted such, but with pogroms in the streets, assassinations, fevered zealots shouting in the streets as plague rotted the city's strength away. He came to the realization, Ayenee the idea may live, but the body had long since decayed. He doubted any amount of necromancy could bring back that.

"No....this will not do....this city must burn, its people must cry for mercy, beg for salvation...." that salvation will be me, he thought.

"Loyalty...true loyalty must be earned, it can never be bought and it must always be appreciated, for it can just as easy turn to betrayal, like a flower caught in the hands of winter. Tell me are you still the fear mongering, tyrant of old? Or have you become soft in the years?" The answer shall decide everything, thought Eseer, let us see why I have been summoned to this age.
 
Varsinax looked down into his silvery chalice and drank its contents.

"I might not look like much to you, but I'll kill every single person in this room. Don't think I won't. And I wouldn't even care."

Varsinax then looked at Eseer.

"What's your problem anyway? There are plenty of other positions of power and glory. It shouldn't be a world where everybody is aiming to slay the king so they can be the ruler. There are other jobs, other levels of greatness. You are one of the greatest generals Ayenee has ever known. What more could you ask for?"
 
Eseer sighed, and turned looking on Varsinax. This time, this king, they were different.

"What made you want to become king? Was it the crown, the title, the respect, or maybe you simply needed a place to live? Something drove you to be...." Eseer waved a hand at Varsinax.

"I have power, but glory that was...that was breaking the capital city, flaying those who had stood against me in its defense. The heads of heroes once lined the walls of the city as a reminder. This city is a mere shadow of the one I knew. There is no glory left here. I see now what this city needs, what this land needs. It needs to be revived through turmoil, it needs something to reignite its heart and inspire greatness among the rabble. One can only.."

Eseer looked back on Varsinax, "One can only drink to the memory of their better days, when they are far behind them."

"I have a vision of this place might rise from the ashes like a phoenix. That vision would involve putting together an army, and razing this city to the ground and killing everyone that walked its streets. It would force you to rise up as king and defend the city from a threat that has proven it can take the city once. That vision would inspire glory and patriotism in the hearts of many. It would be a second chance for me to prove I have still got it. I am not one to repeat the things I have done in the past, when it comes to my legacy in this world. So I find myself at a true boggle when I think about what to do next. Look at this place, is this what you wanted to rule? What has become of the metropolis?"
 
"No. This isn't what I wanted to rule. I don't rule here. I rule from another location. I'm just here to have a drink. Please don't waste all the time and energy gathering up an army of tired soldiers to bother whatever type of meaningless people populate this city. Their lives are insignificant enough to not notice this tavern."
 
"This tavern has history within it, if they don't notice it then its because they are either dead, or they are elsewhere. Ayenee capital was always a beacon that called out to be taken. Maybe because of all the leylines that reside here, or the history that has soaked into the soil. This city was built on the lives of villains, heroes, and everyday people just trying to get by. This city has lived more than some of the people walking its streets. Why take this city, it would be the perfect staging point for an invasion of a massive scale. Besides what this city really needs is new blood."
 
Eseer summons forth a vision for Varsinax of his days in Ayenee after taking it.

The gibbets were high, and from the halters swung corpses. In the city square a scaffolding had been erected. The executioner stood on it with a new hood and axe, the ten aristocrats had been brought out. People had been paid for calumniating against them. Eseer put an end to the tumult in the city streets and torpor of the citizens. A father stood with his son atop his shoulders, the two of them smiling. Children crawled under the scaffolding places handkerchiefs to catch the blood and sell as souvenirs later. One could get a hefty price for those things.

Eseer had also provided work for the whoresons and ne'er-do-wells of the city, they now under the scrutiny of his architects rebuilt the city. The burgraves stated that the rich conspirators had been fomented and found guilty, they were harrowed through the streets and now stood before a crowd. Old women wailed in the front row, meanwhile people cheered the name of the new ruler and that of Eseer.

As they heads rolled, a jester danced around the scaffolding, he squatted and farted in the face of one of the heads. A member of the crowd yelled, "take that cheeky bastard's head next!" another yelled "30 farthings for the jester's head!". The crowd laughed and the people smiled as the charges were read against each baron.
Eseer looked on the people at the joy he created for them, this is why war was some important he thought.

"You see the smiles upon their faces, that is why I want this city to burn, to bring back those smiles. No one smiles quite as warmly, than when at a good execution. Sure they may never be effusive ballads written in my name, but who cares? Those people were happy, when we dined that night with the heads laid out upon the table, the people sang, they danced, it was a great memory. These people" he pointed around the room "they have never seen happiness like that. You understand, its not about controlling the city, its about controlling the hearts of the city."
 
"Your visions of morbid darkness are quite unnecessary. This kingdom is governed by law. If the law is broken, only then shall I unleash my retribution."
 
"Law? Law is merely a constraint, a prison that holds back true expression, true innovation." Eseer looks at Varsinax strangely, he could not recognize the man before him. Whatever was sitting there must be an illusion.

"Sine when did you care about law? Law is for the weak, the world existed before law, and can exist without it." Perhaps this was not Varsinax, perhaps this was some sort of decoy, some sort of doppelganger.

"There is nothing morbid about my memories, those people were truly happy, truly entertained, this is what people want. No, these laws need to be broken, the land needs to return to chaos and be free."
 
"A ruler needs an army to rule, they need the people. You don't need rules to rule, the only laws that really matter are the primal laws of nature. Those are the only rules that dictate how the world unfolds. I remember you being different than this, you were less concerned with laws and rule, and more concerned about whatever it took to put that crown on your head."

Eseer looked over Varsinax and sighed, "And here you are drinking, why did I walk away? Why did I allow this to happen? This land that you rule, it is a weak land that shall burn."
 
"An army of what? Who? Your army should consist of the things you plan to be the leader of. So, if I plan to rule a kingdom of humans, then my army would consist of humans. Are you telling me your army is a human regiment? If it's not, then it's really of no use here."
 
"Hah! So are you telling me you harbor racism? Are non-humans not good enough for the jobs and streets of the capital? I guess the concerns of non-humans fall on deaf ears and next you will tell me you are building a wall."

Eseer had been debating for some time now, where he fit in? This world seemed slightly off to him, he couldn't discern if he were in some alternate Ayenee. If this was the state of things if this was the so-called overlord, a human with concerns about rules and humanity? This was not the overlord he remembered, things had changed.

"Humanity is a plague Varinax, sure it is mildly amusing, but it is still a dire prognosis for the world."
 
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Boot hell rising to rest against the edge of the wooden chair in front. “Just like old times... huh... the only thing is, there should be much more screaming, don’t you think? These fools wish to speak of old memories, yet here we are and there they still sit... something wrong with this picture, don’t you think?”

There was something more macabre in the lilt of her tones, hidden beneath the poisonous lilies of perfumed speech and fragrant deceptions no longer doting with the pitiful hearts, such as nostalgia. Even though her words were not directly spoken to any, it was oft Atra spoke to herself, or the lingering discarnate that draped in cold comfort.

Head tilting to the side tumbles of black falling to caress the curvatures of waist... armoured talons tapping on the surface of the table in rhythmic sequence. Voice loud enough to be heard, it bore nothing of beautiful tones or choirs, only the coldness of bitter winds and necrotic murmurs. “No one does nothing unless it benefits them, law or lawlessness.. but I don’t believe for a second that you do not reside here and further bloodshed hasn’t crossed your mind. Why cease the dance just because the music has changed?"

Deathly orchids twisting into a cynical leer at the last lingering pronunciation of rolled letters and thrown words, they either cared for Ayenee or they did not, it was of little consequence. Change was a sign of progression, a necessity.

"Be the change you wish to see in this world, or be dragged beneath the tide of bitter failure."
 
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