The Secret King

A Task Completed

As the moon rose over the Black City, the sound of syncopated footsteps filled the air outside Thoth. To anyone unfamiliar with the approaching horde, it would have been a terrifying sight. One hundred fierce and tattooed wolves with braided manes and blackened teeth made their way to the northern gate of the city. These were the Lokians and at their head was the greatest of their warriors, King Frega Tarchak, first hereditary monarch of all the Lupine clans.

Word of their arrival quickly reached Castle Thoth and by the time the wolves passed the gates into the city, Chumley Bilgespike, Governor Emeritus of Morgaard and the present Governor, Deerdor Barus, himself a Lokian as well as Frega's cousin, were preparing to greet them at the entrance to castle Thoth.

The Lokians marched through the gates of the city four abreast with King Frega in the lead. The black cobbled streets were soon lined with Thothians craning their necks to get a view of the impressive northern warriors.

Each member of the royal guard was bedecked in full parade regalia. Their heads were covered in a crested metal helmet which extended from halfway up their snouts to the base of their thick necks, with openings for their ears and eyes. The crests, which would normally be filled with long feathers, were instead bedecked with foot long metal needles, like porcupine spikes, slightly curved and attached on rivets, allowing them to move freely back and forth. The needles gently struck the back of the helmets as the wolves marched, mimicking the sound of a hundred snare drums with each step the warriors took.

Their bodies were covered in a shining steel coat of fine mail, over which an armor breastplate bearing the coat of arms, a silver war-hammer over a golden moon, of Frega Tarchak. At each warrior's waist, a battle ax with a double crescent blade hung dangerously.

At the head of the columns, King Frega walked proudly. Unlike his warriors, he wore no helmet, only a laurel-shaped golden coronet signifying his kinghood. Above his silver-mail frock, he sported a black enameled breastplate. In the center of the armor, a scarlet cloisonné moon bearing the mark of Frega's family stood proudly. Unlike his soldiers, he wore no weapon at his side, instead, a massive war-hammer was slung on his back, its handle rising two feet above the top of his head.

As Frega approached Castle Thoth with his wolves, a familiar voice called to him from the base of the drawbridge.

" 'Ow's mah favorite wolfy doin? It's about time you showed up!"

A big grin spread on Frega's features. He signaled his troops to stop and walked quickly to where Chumley and Deerdor stood. Deerdor bowed. Frega then swept Chumley up in a tight bear-hug.
"Chumley, you old reprobate! It's been far too long!"

Chumley struggled in the wolf's grasp. When Frega released him he caught his breath and answered cheerfully.
"And this is why, ain't it. Your greetin's more dangerous than a dyspeptic viper, ain't it. Ah can only survive so many in a year."

Frega and Chumley were very close. The wolf had saved the rat's life several times and Chumley for his part had rescued Frega's family during Khalis' reign as well as securing the monarchy for his friend.

Chumley clapped the wolf on the back.
"Ah am so glad you got here. We're gonna be needin' your help, we are. Matter of life and death and all that. Ah figger you're as bored bein' king as ah was bein' governor, so ah got a little offer of adventure for ya, don't ah? A little bit of savin' the world and all."

Frega laughed loudly.
"I can always count on you my friend to make life more interesting. Of course I will help you, whatever the task."

"That's right nice of you, Frega, but you don't even know what ah'm askin'."

"Well, apparently the world needs saving, that seems a worthwhile task," Frega smiled, "helping seems the kingly thing to do."

Chumley smiled.
"Ah knew I could count on you. Ya got some pals here too that are gonna be very happy to see you."