Kulg lay in his bed feeling the pain of his burns seethe throughout his body. The air was musty, smelling faintly of blood and his own musk from cooked flesh. His butler Drik changing his wrappings in the dim light of candles placed throughout his room. His head was throbbing and his mind was cloudier than it had ever been when wielding the emeralds' magic. It had been mere hours since he had been humiliated by the traitor Gor. The orc had died in his meddling, but it didn't matter to Kulg, he had left his mark.
He felt a burning sting as Drik dabbed his arm with a cool mint salve before dressing his arm in fresh bandaging. He wanted to slap the old orc, but refrained, knowing his long-time servant didn't deserve it. For a moment Kulg felt shame for having such hostile feelings toward his old friend. He had served under his family since the day his grandfather had been appointed lord of his city near a century and a half ago. He didn't know Drik's age, but he had to be near two hundred at this point.
Once he had finished his work, Drik looked him over with a hint of pride in seasoned his eyes. The wrappings were tight and surprisingly comfortable, despite the light burning of the salve on resting on his skin. With everything that had happened, losing so many to battle as well as his most loyal warrior Krag, he was glad to still have a familiar face around; and one so dependable. What hurt Kulg most was the thought of his top scouts losing their lives to the pig filth that had invaded their lands.
Bringing them to heel under his power and sending them to their deaths was better than any of them deserved. He wished he could have killed them all personally, but in the end they served their purpose. Many of them still infested the land, but he would deal with them once he regained his strength.
"Is there anything else you need before I take my leave?" Drik asked, his voice sounding thin.
"No, Drik." Kulg said, trying to sound as calm as his temper would allow. " you may take leave for the night. Just make sure my advisors come to see me at noon tomorrow."
"As you wish."
He gave a slight bow and gathered his small box of supplies along with the soiled wrappings and left, gently closing the double doors behind him. The room was silent now, with nothing but Kulg's thoughts to keep him company. The thought of everything that had transpired ran through his head over and over, his anger growing again as he thought of his failure, of his carelessness.
How could I let my guard down so easily. I should have drained the life of those traitors, instead I grew full of myself. I believed to be unstoppable and that simply crushing them with my power would leave a message.
It had left a message. A message telling the other tribes that he was not invincible. Instead of absorbing those around him and adding to the gems' power he chose to strike them down with enough force to flatten half a city. Only for the traitor Gor to shield them and have that power rebounded back to him. The low born had died in his attempt, but a single kill he sacrificed many. Those who had fought would need time to lick their wounds, but it wasn't enough. The fools would be back in force, perhaps sooner than he'd like, but this time Kulg would sure he was ready.
First I must heal, and then I will conquer the remaining Zruhk cities not under my control.
A memory had crept up on Kulg like a lion stalking its prey. He remembered the golem of flame he had trapped within one of the emeralds, and the man connected to it. Unlike the other mages he had gathered this one had been far more resilient. Kulg was unable to control him like the others. He knew that the emeralds held no immediate power over the humans, at least not without imbuing the power of a spirit within their souls first. Yet this one seemed to reject him altogether.
Kulg focused his mind as best he could on one of the emeralds hidden within a nearby chest. It creaked open as the gem flew out of it and landed on his outstretched good hand. He looked it over, seeing slight scorch marks upon its body.
