Tales of Valour
Zenfric Shadow-Hand
Zenfric Shadow-Hand was sitting on his Throne, watching the counsel diside whether or not to invoke a sword tax to start bringing in more money for the legion. The counsel was made up of four lords one of each side of the compass, they were all high born stuck up and a pain to listen to. Zenfric always found them arguing about some sort of useless nonsense with no idea of the risk that was waiting for them. A few thosend leagues to the North The Eldar was still gathering an Army and they were not likely to forget the war. A war that dam near losst them everything and yet the counsel still argue about a bloody sword tax. Standing next to Zenfric's throne Was Tribunes Nazeam and Uki. Nazeam was tall, dark black of hair, he wore strange splint mail armour with red cloth that covered his knees and arms with another longer bit of cloth covering his head so that all you could see was his neat beard. At his side was a silver and gold scimitar, one unlike any other you would ever see. Uki on the other hand was strange his ears were sharp like an elf's and so where his eyes but his nose, mouth and skin told a different story. His nose was pointed in a strange and menacing way, his mouth had sharp teeth poking out which made him look feral. His skin is grey with black war paint on his shoulders and chest, in truth Uki was half Orc. There were not many half Orcs in Denfillhime most of which are either hunted or make a living as sell swords, because of their impossibly Tuf skin this makes them the excellent front line soldier. Uki was not a sell sword instead he once Saved Zenfric's life for (this although it was not a public choice) Uki was to be made a Tribune. He didn't really wear armour instead he wore a robe to cover his legs. The robe has strange shamanistic patterns and animal bones were tied to the belt. Because of this Uki did not seem a gallant soldier but more of a cut throat and not a man you would want to anger. Zenfric had a stern jaw, strange yellow eyes and to scars across his face that narrowly missed his left eye, he was also black of hair as where most men in the back legion of Arandone. He did not wear a crown for he was not a King, he was an emperor, a conqueror. He was the one who brought the Kingdom of the Eldar to there knees by crushing their Chiliarch and burning cities so that they would never sell another human slave again. like they sold him.
"Silence" Zenfric shouted over the heated discussion that pained his ears so much. " have you all forgotten, forgotten the very thing we fort, for I will not sit safely in a city that will not allow its people to defend themselves. How would you feel if you saw an Army breaking through the walls with no way of keeping your family safe, I have never seen any of you without a sword by your side, we live in dark times, times where war is at our gate. Your all dismissed." he finished, beconing to the Tribunes to leave as well, " apart from you Augustus" he growled. A fair head middle-aged man stoped and ternd.
"yes your excellentsy," he mutterd kneeling before Zenfric. The emperor weighted until everybody had left before indicating to Augustus to rise.
" I have a job for you, one that will stop the Eldar if they try to attack again." Zenfric commanded standing from his throne.
" I live to serve your excellentsy." Augustus recited. Although his dark painful eyes said the opposite. That was the thing that Zenfric never liked about Augustus, everything he ever said always sounded rehearse and practised as though his life was a play. And every time his eyes were full of hate. But he was the lord regiont of the West, and this job was in the West.
" I need you to find something for me, a weapon, one that the Eldar had never used in the war, it is in an old elven Castle West of Delandore, send youre best legionnaires, ruins like these are usually full of Bandits, sow be wary."
" always your excellentsy." Augustus recited again.
" now your dismissed, leave me." Zenfric finished, sitting back down on his throne as Augustus left his throne room.
