Chapter 7: Treasonous Whispers


Crack!
Crack!
Crack… snap!

Alone in his private tent, Skali was furiously hacking away at a large barrel sized chuck of sturdy wood, steadily making larger and uneven gouges all over the surface. Thin curved blades in both hands, saliva flying from his open maw, eyes rolling madly in a frenzied battle state, the Dinolfos continued to beat upon the defenseless quarry until one of his blades finally gave in an ear-wrenching snap. Not to be defeated, he surreptitiously snarled at his foe, and pounced upon it, his thick claws on his feet and hands digging deeply into the wood, and snapped his jaw shut upon one corner.

Nothing defied the bite of any Reptalfos.

Muscles bulging, face contorted in grinding effort, Skali wrenched an entire side of the stump off with a sickening crack and spat it triumphantly to the side. Without his sturdy tail for balance, he surely would have fallen with it. However, there was nothing he could do about the awful lingering wood taste left in his mouth. Disgusted, he began to drool out lengthy amounts of saliva in attempt to distort the taste, for Reptalfos mouths are inadequately shaped for spitting. Really, it was a miracle that Dinolfos could speak in such fashion as they did, though not much could be said for the Lizalfos. Their slimmer jaws and tongues made anything more complex then a squawk completely indecipherable.

Not yet finished, he wiped the remaining saliva roughly off his jaw and resumed his work. Taking the broken blade from the earthy floor of his tent, he stabbed it through the heart of the bole, the keen edges cutting fine rivers of blood from his hands as it formed a rough splint along the center of the wood. Now grabbing the hilt and gripping one side with his less bloodied hand, he slowly began to pry the chuck apart, the hilt embedded in the splint acting as a lever. With a loud pop, the wood again gave way to its predator and snapped roughly into two halves, splints of wood and dust spaying into his already stinging hands.

Snarling, he brandished his tent’s pole torch and rammed the burning end into the smaller half, momentarily dismissing light from his quarters. It came back in a flash as the dry wood also quickly caught a flame. Foreseeing this, Skali had already rammed the pole back into the soft earth and hacked at the burning stump furiously. The now charred surface was much easier to hack through and crumbled to a pulp and distinguished almost instantly to the Reptalfo’s blows. He was about to repeat the demonstration with the remaining half when a sudden rustling at his tent’s entrance brought him spinning back to reality; his now blackened blade brandished and pointed threateningly to the sound.

It was only a Lizalfos, a most likely a messenger by the lack of armor or arms. It squawked offhandedly to make sure he was noticed. Skali swiftly silenced it with a threatening snarl. Of course, it might have just been his appearance that had yet not been recognized. Armor absent due to its hindermost in the former exercise, one could easily see the tight, scarred, muscular body that many a Dinolfos officers would envy, and a face of defiance to match it.

Which ever it was that had brought the lizard to his tent, it promptly reminded the Lizalfos of his duty and presented him with hastily scrawled note on a strip of bark. It was most likely that the Lizalfos could not read or write itself, but, of course, retained the intelligence to comprehend orders. It wasn’t that they were lacking any more brains, but the unfortunate incapability to speak forced the Lizalfos sub-nation into the lower rungs of the Reptalfos’ communities.

Quickly scanning the script, Skali suddenly groaned dejectedly and tossed the note into the torch flame, quickly consuming it. Growling, he sent the messenger scurrying off with his own message: “Sirrah, tell zee War-Chief that if he wantz to insult me again, to do it himszelf inztead of forzing zome incompetent idiot do to zee jobz!”

Sighing, he leisurely slipped back into his armor and headed out into the starlit camp of the Reptilian Horde.

The camp mostly dark and silent aside from the few officers still using their tent torches and the sentries around the camp’s perimeters; the Horde had retired for the night. With recent addition of Skali’s West-Point Clan, the Horde had finally reached its maximal force of over a million Reptalfos soldiers. Stalking temperedly towards the centermost and largest tent, he ignored the few lower ranked soldiers’ salutes as he swiftly stomped through their open aired resting grounds. Only officers were permitted tents.

Finally reaching his destination, he passed momentarily at the entrance to make way for an exiting guest. Bile rose in his throat as he recognized it as that foul idiot Warlord Ignatius. Being a human alone gave Skali reason to hate him, but the additional fact that he was actually considered more important then he gave further infuriation. Although he had only arrived at the encampment that morning, he had quickly been alerted of the man’s apparent importance.

“The time will come human!” he snarled to himself. “Not forever will your stock remain high, and when it drops I will be waiting for you.” Giving a last contemptuous glare at the retreated back of the Warlord, he skulked into War-Chief Rizakis’ headquarters.

Upon entrance, Skali received a quick smack in the face by the means of a wet cloth. Chocking back the anger of receiving the dishonor of an insubordinate officer, he settled into a shaking bow facing Rizakis.

“Hail, War-Chief Rizakis. I hope time has found you-”

His annunciation suddenly cut off by swift kick in the face, Skali sprawled across the dirt floor, mouth now bleeding in addition to his hands. Groggy and blinking blood specks from his eyes, he slowly rose from the floor, keeping a wary eye on Rizakis, who actually looked angrier than himself.

“Skali, you scrathiogramz, howz darez you disobeys my direct order of meetingz here at soonest speed possiblez? Givez meaningz to zis outragez!” Rizakis screeched, hands raising, promoting further violence. Skali, however, bared his hackles and started reaching for his remaining blade.

“Youz had no rightz to strikez me! Iz not yet underz your command whence receiving your letterz! It remained clearz to mez that I waz under full obligation to do az I pleased until arrivingz at your combined Horde.”

“Therze waz no reason in hell to attacks that humanz town and you know it! As I clearly stated to ‘avoid detection and attention’, as wellz az ‘Committing actz of uneszezzary violenze!’ ” Rizakis roared, spit flying from his mouth.

“Hylian and Goron populacez are by lawz to be exterminated when ever pozzible!” Skali countered, taking refuge on ceremonial oaths of Reptilian procedure on his obvious blunder.

“Uze your headz, for bloodied sakez! What zee hellz is morez
importantz!? Old laws or present progression!? Nowz zee Hylians vill know somethingz afoot!”

“Don’t takez me for a foolz. It waz made sure to bez a very thorough jobz, we evenz dropped some Gerudo bandit corpses in zee streets. There’z no reason of suspicion.” Skali dropped his gaze from Rizakis’ still fiery glare and took a quick survey of the quarters. He could see a jumble of maps and orders strewn across Rizakis’ sole desk, but the words were scribed in Hylian, and could not decipher them. Skali was again reminded of the human. They must be his, and the War-Chief is actually using them!

“Whatz in it for uz anywayz? Whatz the real reason for thiz human in our Horde? I’ve probably heard a thousand rumourz already!” Skali spat venomously, shaking with anger but also in anticipation for a possible real answer.

“Wouldn’ze zee likez of you like to know, eh?” Rizakis’ maw stretched into what appeared to be a malicious smile, but was hard to discern due to the absence of lips and too many teeth. “Now getz out of my sights you uselezz fool before I getz out my guards on youz!”

Strongly tempted to test his threat by stabbing him through the heart, Skali forced himself into a bow and quickly left; angrier if possible then before and realizing that he had been summoned just to be baited.

“Don’tz worries, Rizakis, you’ll bez singing my song soon. Youz just wait!” Skali muttered to himself treasonously as he stormed his way back to his tent, not caring if he trodden over any of the many sleepers obstructing his way.

So many fools, so little time to exploit them.