Bosi. You will be responsible for the lives of all your people, who will be annihilated and worse of all…” Jatorn arched a blond brow. “We both know you can’t live with that on your conscience. What a horrendous sort of legacy…”
A long arm rose in the air. A tall, shadowy figure emerged from the recesses of the room, his head covered in a thick, black robe with multiple layers, wrinkles and places to stash away sunken dreams and melted happy emotions drunk from the souls of plenty. A bony gray hand pushed forward as Jatorn stared into the ghastly light blue eyes that glowed like sapphires. He wished he could pluck them out, put them in a jar, and enjoy them for years to come…
“Jatorn,” came the odd voice, one that was married to many tones, both feminine and masculine, all speaking at once. The voice vibrated the room. A clusterfuck of confusion all embodied in the one entity. It was Vex, the President of the Morphicians. No one knew how old the bastard was; all they knew was that he was the king of walking nightmares and had a propensity to enjoy inflicting torture and pain on others. He feasted upon it, enjoyed their pleading like it was a freshly slaughtered sacrifice thrown in front of a pack of demons. “We know your nature, Jatorn.” There was a smile in the statement, though the man’s face could not be seen…only those unforgettable, glowing light blue orbs he called eyes. “You are a pawn shop of sorts.” Vex shrugged. “Only, once a customer comes into your sights, it doesn’t much matter if they wish to sell or not… They will release the precious merchandise.”
“What is your point, Vex?” Jatorn crossed his arms, doing little to hide his annoyance. Everyone feared Vex, except him.
“My dear.” An eerie chuckle escaped the confines of the dark mass known as his mouth. “My point is that, if you state to us, you want our help…” Vex turned towards Bosi and then slowly towards the other Yuledrakes in the room. “Then we know it comes with a catch. What is in it for us?”
“Vex,” Jatorn huffed. “You and your people have been getting your jollies from torturing the humans since the very beginning of their dismal, silly, pathetic existence. Surely, now that you are being invited to treat their planet as a playground, you will want to enjoy the folly and fruits of your labor. Furthermore, I request your expertise. I need the brawn and power of the Lyalts, and I need your illusion manifestation skills, particularly yours and the fine team you’ve assembled in order to address the humans, to get them under control. They are easy to kill; that is not my intention, however.”
“What is your intention, Jatorn?” Bosi spoke up.
Jatorn shot the mammoth bear a glance. “I want to use them, make them work their land. I need someone to mine the resources, one being an item of beauty they call diamonds. The deepest concentrations of such treasures are located in a place they call Russia. Another location is where their civilization was harvested, an area of their world called Africa. In a smaller region of Africa, there are several sections, broken up into what they call countries. We need their labor to obtain these precious jewels, but first, we have to deal with a country called America. I will get into that later in the discussion.” He flipped his hand impatiently. “I’ve gotten a bit off track. Yes.” He offered a crooked smile. “Labor… It sure as hell won’t be Yuledrakes. We don’t work. We think, we take, we conquer.” He tapped his index finger against his sunken, prominent temple.
“We don’t want these diamonds you speak of. We know what they are; mind altering hallucinogens. They benefit us not. My people wish to have nothing to do with the Earthlings.” Bosi stood from his seat, his chair scooting behind him in a soft whisper of leather released, and happily, from the seven hundred pound prison of Bosi’s body. “However, with a joint venture, we
A long arm rose in the air. A tall, shadowy figure emerged from the recesses of the room, his head covered in a thick, black robe with multiple layers, wrinkles and places to stash away sunken dreams and melted happy emotions drunk from the souls of plenty. A bony gray hand pushed forward as Jatorn stared into the ghastly light blue eyes that glowed like sapphires. He wished he could pluck them out, put them in a jar, and enjoy them for years to come…
“Jatorn,” came the odd voice, one that was married to many tones, both feminine and masculine, all speaking at once. The voice vibrated the room. A clusterfuck of confusion all embodied in the one entity. It was Vex, the President of the Morphicians. No one knew how old the bastard was; all they knew was that he was the king of walking nightmares and had a propensity to enjoy inflicting torture and pain on others. He feasted upon it, enjoyed their pleading like it was a freshly slaughtered sacrifice thrown in front of a pack of demons. “We know your nature, Jatorn.” There was a smile in the statement, though the man’s face could not be seen…only those unforgettable, glowing light blue orbs he called eyes. “You are a pawn shop of sorts.” Vex shrugged. “Only, once a customer comes into your sights, it doesn’t much matter if they wish to sell or not… They will release the precious merchandise.”
“What is your point, Vex?” Jatorn crossed his arms, doing little to hide his annoyance. Everyone feared Vex, except him.
“My dear.” An eerie chuckle escaped the confines of the dark mass known as his mouth. “My point is that, if you state to us, you want our help…” Vex turned towards Bosi and then slowly towards the other Yuledrakes in the room. “Then we know it comes with a catch. What is in it for us?”
“Vex,” Jatorn huffed. “You and your people have been getting your jollies from torturing the humans since the very beginning of their dismal, silly, pathetic existence. Surely, now that you are being invited to treat their planet as a playground, you will want to enjoy the folly and fruits of your labor. Furthermore, I request your expertise. I need the brawn and power of the Lyalts, and I need your illusion manifestation skills, particularly yours and the fine team you’ve assembled in order to address the humans, to get them under control. They are easy to kill; that is not my intention, however.”
“What is your intention, Jatorn?” Bosi spoke up.
Jatorn shot the mammoth bear a glance. “I want to use them, make them work their land. I need someone to mine the resources, one being an item of beauty they call diamonds. The deepest concentrations of such treasures are located in a place they call Russia. Another location is where their civilization was harvested, an area of their world called Africa. In a smaller region of Africa, there are several sections, broken up into what they call countries. We need their labor to obtain these precious jewels, but first, we have to deal with a country called America. I will get into that later in the discussion.” He flipped his hand impatiently. “I’ve gotten a bit off track. Yes.” He offered a crooked smile. “Labor… It sure as hell won’t be Yuledrakes. We don’t work. We think, we take, we conquer.” He tapped his index finger against his sunken, prominent temple.
“We don’t want these diamonds you speak of. We know what they are; mind altering hallucinogens. They benefit us not. My people wish to have nothing to do with the Earthlings.” Bosi stood from his seat, his chair scooting behind him in a soft whisper of leather released, and happily, from the seven hundred pound prison of Bosi’s body. “However, with a joint venture, we
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