"The Rise of Lord Rakarth"

Lord Veles was barely discernable upon his throne. Surrounding him were the spoils of victories past: ornate weapons of fallen foes, trinkets, and piles upon piles of gold coins. The dim light of the room caused attention to be drawn away from the mighty Ralak Lord, and onto his nearly endless, glimmering, paragon of wealth.

Rakarth focused beyond the riches toward the growing chuckle that seemed to threaten to topple the piles and bury him.

“This rogue, this insect of the deep, thinks he is going to faction himself not only against our confederacy, and the Keldei tribes, but also the entire Abyssal Hive? This is beyond laughable. It is a comedy of errors just waiting to play itself out,” Veles held his scaled head in his hands and tried to contain his laughter long enough to issue his decree to his trusted personal bodyguard and champion.

“Rakarth, Master of Blades,” announced Veles, “Lord Veles of the Ralak Confederacy hereby orders you to uphold his and all Ralak’s honor by putting to rest Septu and his hopeless ambitions. Return with his spear and bring honor to your Empire.”

“Yes, my Lord,” eagerly answered Rakarth, “I will send that jix`Su back into the seas where he belongs.”

With a slight bow, and a second look at the bounty that could one day be his, Rakarth headed toward the armory to assemble the weapons that would unquestionably hinder Septu’s plans. Once this victory was secured, the people would know of his might, and it would only be a matter of time before they recognized him as a Lord.