“Dead!” screamed Lord Whitebone as the skeletal creature stood in front of his bony throne and looked at the ghoulish form of Thantos. His death mask skull radiated a wave of palpable heat and his eyes burned so intensely that they appeared blue in color. “What do you mean dead?”
“He now serves the Mistress of the Abyss, She Who Rules Eternally, She who has Ruled in the Abyss since the…,” said the ghoul and licked its lips and smiled at the rage of Whitebone.
“Enough of your listing of her titles, is she so insecure in her reign that her servants must repeat endlessly this mantra of her eternal rule. Damn you, Thantos, and damn your mistress as well,” said Whitebone turning his back on the ghoul with a sweep of his long cape.
“Shall I convey that message to She Who Eternally Rules,” said Thantos, unable to keep the smirk from his face but the comment did not provoke the angry reaction for which he hoped.
The undead master said nothing and paced back and forth in front of the ghoul for a long minute before he turned to face the creature once again, “How did it happen?”
Thantos spread his arms, “Our informant did not witness the actually murder itself, merely the milieu after the fact. We have a description of the culprits.”
“Tell me,” said Whitebone, moving to within inches of the ghoul.
“It is not for me to say,” said Thantos and once again he smirked as his impossibly long tongue licked up into the hollow of his nose. “The Mistress of the Abyss, She Who Rules Forever, stays my hand unless you are willing to negotiate.”
Whitebone reached forward with a long hand, his clawed fingers came to rest under the chin of the ghoulish creature and dug into the decayed flesh. “I raised that dragon from an egg,” he said. “I will have vengeance upon those who killed him and I will not tolerate anyone who keeps the culprits from me. I will tear you limb from limb if you do not come forward with the information immediately!”
Thantos looked at the burning embers in the hollow sockets of Lord Whitebone’s face and shook his head, “No, Lord Whitebone. While I’m convinced your threats are genuine I cannot violate a direct order of the Lady of the Abyss, even should I so desire. You know this to be true as you, in your state of undeath, are subject to the same laws as
I.”
Whitebone glared at the ghoul for a moment but then slowly pulled back his hand and put it behind his back where he clasped it with his other, “True enough, Thantos,” he said as his eyes dipped in intensity to a molten hot piece of metal freshly pulled from the forge. “What does the Mistress of the Abyss desire from me?”
Thantos smiled and walked over to the bone throne, sat down in it, put his hands on the armrests, and once again licked his face, “She Who Rules Eternally, The Great and Glorious One, wishes you to personally see to the Staff of Sakatha. When you, personally, on your knee, return it to her then she will give you the descriptions of the people responsible for the death of your little dragon.”
“Perhaps,” said Whitebone who moved a few steps away from Thantos, “you are lying about my pet in order to get what you want?”
Thantos shrugged, “I merely follow the orders given to me by the Lady of Death, the Ruler of the Deathlands. I do not know if your precious pet is alive or dead. I simply relay information from her to you. If you think I am lying than I shall return to my mistress, She Who Has Ruled for all Eternity, and report your answer.”
Lord Whitebone nodded his skeletal head and stared at the ghoulish creature for a long moment as his eyes slowed cooled to a deep red. “That is true of course, and I shall find out if Snowball is dead in due course in any case. Naturally, if it is a lie your mistress knows how I will react when I find out. She also knows that she is safe from my wrath but you, Thantos, are not.”
“Your threats, as I explained earlier, are of no concern to me,” said the ghoul and playfully ran his hands over the throne and snapped off what looked to be a finger bone, “oops.”
“I agree to your terms,” said the skeletal ruler of the region. “I will travel by portal to the darklands and see to the retrieval of the staff myself. However, not being a dragon child, I do not have access to the dreams of Chusarausea and this limits my ability to find the staff. The dragon dreams are only accessible to descendants of that race, the reptile men and such. Snowball was to coordinate activity with several dragon children but now I do not have those contacts, unless they survived the events that killed my dragon.”
“I have no knowledge of that,” said Thantos with a shrug his shoulders, “and the difficulty of finding the staff is not my concern. I simply expect that you will find it, you will obtain it, and you will return it to She Who Rules Eternally. Other than that, I leave the details to you.”
“Now, if you will vacate my seat,” said Whitebone and nodded his head slightly to Thantos, “I can summon my servants and prepare to venture out.”
“If you require any further aid from me, or the Lady of the Abyss,” said Thantos, as he stood up and casually tossed the finger bone across the floor where it came to rest up against the wall, you will inform us over the usual channels.” With that the ghoul walked down the narrow hallways and soon disappeared around a corner.
Whitebone sat in his throne and stared into empty space for some time until a large soldier with a badly scarred face approached, “Lord Whitebone,” he said with a bow. “Your orders?”
“Tell the mages to prepare the portal for travel to the darklands, the same location we sent Snowball,” said the master of the realm as his fingers tapped irregularly on his bone throne.
The scarred warrior turned to leave but Whitebone raised a finger, “General,” he said and the soldier turned back to face his commander. “Tell everyone to keep an eye out for the dark shadow Tenebrous and if they see him to report it to me immediately,” he finished.
“Yes, Lord Whitebone,” said the scarred warrior and turned once again and marched stiffly out of the room.
“The black shadow is far more dangerous than Thantos,” mused Whitebone as his fingers tapped out a rhythm on the throne, “and yet far more useful at the same time. It is most vexing that the most predictable of my servants and my enemies are also the least useful. I suppose that is the way of things.”