War of the Words/Chapter 3

Darin entered the inn with a smile; events were falling very much into his plan. Very shortly he would be in a position of great influence among the people and free to pursue his own interests without hindrance. He approached the dark table with a smile.

The figure shifted in the darkness, his eyes barely visible beneath the hood of his long black robes.

"Good evening, Master Darin." The stranger's voice was low and very soft. "I am still uncomfortable with your plan. If it fails, the people will turn on you and your supporters completely. Are you certain that it is the best course? Many of our people will die."

"Casualties of war," Darin said dismissively. "The rewards are sufficient enough to justify the loss, as deeply traumatic as it will be for me. I always hate to see innocent life wasted."

"Yes. Of course you do" The stranger's voice was careful modulated to show little emotion, but Darin was sure sarcasm hid beneath the surface.

'So he sees my motives more clearly,' he thought coldly. 'All the better; I read him very well. We know exactly where each other stands in our little game.'

"We must act quickly. I am afraid I have some very disconcerting news from our agents in Deren," the shadowed figure said quickly, his voice betraying emotion for the first time. Its tenor chilled Darin involuntarily.

"What is it?"

"Draynor is sending that Drakel to the front."

"Tralin? The king of Deren is entrusting his front line to a subhuman renegade? All the better. You and I both know that a Drakel can not even begin to offer our wizards a challenge."

"But Darin, haven't you seen the reports? Tralin is a very powerful mage. He is also greatly respected in Draynor's court and among the people. Draynor is in the process of making him a noble."

"Drakel nobility," Darin spit pure venom. "This is exactly why we must succeed. Imagine a lower life form like he reigning over us.."

"Darin, remember most people do not share your ideas on purity and racial division. The races live in peace."

"The worthy races. The Drakel are monsters that accost in the wilderness; they are lesser beings."

"Ah." The stranger shifted uncomfortably; he did not believe Darin actually felt that way. The Drakel lived in impenetrable cities. If he had some plan to sow racial discord, it had other roots and he was beginning to believe Darin's other interests could not be positive.

"Never mind it." Darin smiled sweetly. "Let the Drakel come to the front. We do not need racial discord, merely the distrust born of secrets and mystery."

"Hmm?"

"Send word to our servants in Deren near the School of Thought. Have them spread rumors that Draynor has plans to make the mages rule over the people and he intends to put Tralin in charge so the peoples do not realize his plan. In other circles, spread the rumor that though Tralin has been kind and helpful, he has been secretly trading information to the Drakel for their plans to take over."

"Lord, few people will believe such stories."

"Belief is irrelevant. Seeds will be planted and when Draynor makes his announcement some will sprout. When Tralin cannot defend himself because he is on front lines they will take root. Afterward, we just suggest every local problem has some root in the Drakel plot or the plot of the School of Thought."

"Most ingenious, my lord." Another word came to mind: evil.

The stranger, whose name was Jano, shivered in spite of the warmth of his robe and the fire. While Darin had once been Jano's close friend, he no longer had any illusions about his nature. Darin was clearly ingenious; he was also very clearly the most evil man he had ever known and now Jano was very much tied up in his machinations.