Wrath of the Dogs (Marak)

The smoky fire illuminates the night sky, its intoxicating red and yellows giving me a much-needed smile. This town is defenceless, their walls guarded by no one. So when we entered their town, the knife eared beasts screamed as they ran away from us, terrified that their once slaves came to them for sport.
I love the night, for the joys of battle always comes.
Mindrax’s Dogs served me well, surrounding the walls of the town, to prevent their escape. But the Cinari still took their chances. Bolting to the exits of the town as they topple over themselves like a herd of wild animals. Makes for easy practice to test our blades.
Some run back into their homes, trying to hide from us like a kid hides under their blankets from monsters. But we are real.
Their illusion of safety shatters as we break down their doors and drag them out of their homes. They kick and beg for mercy. Mercy! An act none of them deserve.
Some try to fight back, using their own houses or shops as makeshift forts to have their pathetic last stand. The solution, burn their houses down. They will either come out or die in the flames. Either option brings us joy.
I will admit, it is a shame they didn’t fight hard enough, fortunately there is still plenty of them left to toy with.
I head to the middle of the town when Midrax has separated the men from their women and children. The entire town’s population separated into three parts. I suppose he has done it to make it easy to identify who they are.
A Dog throws a rope over a post with a noose. They can finally take on our suffering, to understand what it feels to die horribly. I want to end their pathetic lives now, but I need information and a new Vern first.
Midrax is covered in armour from head to toe, looking more metal than flesh, it shocks me that he can even wear it. It would be too heavy for any normal person.
He sits on top of a broken down statue while he eats an apple, laughing at the Cinari and their misfortune.
Alex walks into the town centre, escorting his captives to their designated spots. Not pushing or dragging them, but pointing to them where they should be.
It’s good that he made his catch submit to his commands, but he should be harder on them. Murderers don’t deserve even a hint of sympathy.
The townsfolk hug each other, holding on for dear life in fear of what will come. Their children cry, their faces covered in tears. The women make offers of material goods or sex for their freedom, while their men shout and scream curses.
‘Silence!’ I shout, but they keep carrying on, ignoring my command.
Fine, if they won’t listen to me, then I’ll silence them by force. I march to the women’s section. A woman with long brown hair looks at me with teary eyes, her blue dress full of mud, ash, and blood.
I grab onto her hair to drag her to the centre of the crowd.
‘Please! Let me go!’ She pleads as she kicks and screams, trying to break free from my grip.
The townspeople’s eyes watch, their fear amplified as I drag this wretched woman along.
I throw her down in front of me. She gets on her knees, holding onto her hands as if she is praying.
I unsheathe my sword and split her head in two. Two chunks of brain matter pulsate out of her skull while I lift my sword out of her head. Her lifeless body slumps down as her town watches silently in horror, a few puke from the sight of gore.
‘Murderer!’ One man screams.
‘I’ll fucking kill you!’ Another says aloud.
‘Silence!’ I command again. The children and the women lay there, quiet at my command. The men, on the other hand, keep shouting, promising revenge. That my deeds are evil.
No! You bastards deserve every bit of it. I will enjoy slaughtering your children, your pathetic Empire, and your lovers. I promise your demonic kind a future of destruction!
I head to the men’s section. A young creature hides his face behind a ragged red top. I yank on his arm as I drag him out of his section. They need an example.
With a hard tug, his shoulder dislocates. He cries in pain, his screams echoing through the night.
‘Mommy! I want my mommy!’ He wails.
I grab his foot and place my other hand on his hip. I lever his foot up, popping his knee bone out as while I dislocate his left leg to a position of utter pain. The men amp up, their faces showing a mix of fear and anger.
‘Is this what you want?’ I shout at the town’s men as I grab my sword to point it at the creature’s broken body.
They settle down, ending their rebellious attitude, fearful of the consequences that will come their way. I pick the man’s body up over my head to throw him to the section he belongs in.
‘I am looking for whoever is the chief of this town, or anyone with important information. Confess now, so I can finish slaughtering you early.’
No one stands up, refusing to admit who their leader is, or if they are one. I look at the men’s section, checking their clothing. Anything to show wealth and power, indicators of what a leader looks like to them.
A man wearing a puffy purple suit with gold trim on it and a diamond ring on his left hand catches my eye. He is ignoring me, looking down at where their hell spawn is gathered.
I walk behind them to see who he is looking at. His eyes are locked onto one of the disgusting children.
A young girl in white sleepwear stares back at the man, moving her hands in elaborate ways. Once she is done, the man does the same sort of hand movements to her. Some sort of silent communication?
Even if he is not the leader, this could be useful to know. But for now, I need him to talk.
I walk to the kids’ section and grab the girl’s hand. If he won’t admit it, I will force him to.
I drag her to the post with the noose. He needs to see and feel my pain. I put the rope around her neck, then hoist her body up until she is standing on her toes.
I have his attention now. ‘Please don’t hurt her!’ He screams.
A Dog walks up and punches him in the stomach, knocking him down while he gasps for air.
‘Are you the chief?’ I ask the man.
‘No… I am not.’ He replies as he coughs and wheezes.
I pull on the rope, lifting the girl off the ground. She kicks around, holding onto the rope as she struggles to breathe.
‘Who is?’ I yell at the man as I pull the rope harder until her head nearly touches the top of the post.
‘I don’t know!’ He cries, his voice shaking as he holds back tears.
A woman stands up, wearing a dark brown dress with a white cloth hanging out of her pocket.
‘He isn’t here,’ she shouts.
I growl at them. ‘Lies!’
They are such animals, truly, they would rather defend their leaders than their own children. I am not surprise. They only care about their so-called masters, more than their own future.
The young girl’s grip weakens. Her face is turning blue, her kicks and the throwing of her arms becoming few. A pleasant sight to watch.
Alex runs up to me, his bow slung on his back. ‘Dad, we don’t have to do this.’
‘Those beasts deserve everything they get!’ I proclaim.
Is he forgetting why we are slaves? Why they deserve this pain!
‘They do, but we should be better than them. We can’t repeat what they have done,’ Alex replies.
‘They are thieves, Alex. Murderers of our children! They killed May! Why would I want them alive?’
I pull my sword out to show Alex that he needs to rethink his position. I won’t use it on him, but he should know not to step up in their defence.
‘Killing them won’t make them understand our pain, Dad.’ He points to the Cinari. ‘We can force them to go through it, to live our lives as slaves! Just don’t do what Balgazard did. Don’t be like him.’
The girl struggles less and less, drifting in and out of consciousness. I want to kill her, to let them go through my suffering.
She collapses to the ground as I let go of the rope. Alex rushes over and takes the noose off her neck. The girl coughs and takes in one deep breath. The monster is alive.
Alex picks up her weak body and carries her to the other kids.
‘Get over here,’ I order the man in the purple suit. He walks through the crowd of his fellow men towards me, his posture radiating weakness as he walks in defeat.
‘Kneel!’ I order him.
He takes a knee, his eyes locking onto mine. At first, the violet eyes of his people haunted me, making me fear for me and my children’s future.
Now they have a different message. They are weak! Their kind, their culture and everything about them shows weakness.
‘You will be named Vern. From now on, you will know me as your master.’
‘Ye… Yes master,’ he says, his voice whimpering in defeat.
‘Good.’
I walk over to Midrax as he lazily sits on the statue. ‘We are staying here for now, Midrax. I want you to send scouts out to keep an eye out for any Cinari.’
‘What about the mine? My people have mined for almost a day now. What do you want my people to do there?’
I don’t care to deal with their domestic disputes. His Dog’s lives are not my problem.
‘I’ll leave it up to you, Midrax. You can bring your people here.’ I look over at the captured Cinari. ‘Or you can take some of them to work in your mine.’
Midrax smiles. ‘Heh, it would be entertaining to watch them mine.’
‘Indeed, they would. For now, get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow.’
I make my way to a fancy building. If there is nothing useful there, maybe there is a good bed to sleep on.

I sit alone on the bed in a large room. The bed itself is three times the size of my room back in the mine. A perfect fit for someone of incredible wealth and status.
I haven’t slept since yesterday. How could I? Alex compared me to scum, said that my actions are the equivalent of Balgazard! Putting an animal down isn’t the same as killing a child. My child!
Alex is too sympathetic to our enemy, not showing the needed zeal against our captives.
He is right about one thing; they should live through our pain. Their labour could feed my army, even entertain them if they are inclined to it.
The sun’s piercing rays blind my eyes for a moment. I hop up to look outside.
One of Midrax’s Dogs paces back and forth in the streets, snacking on the severed leg of a Cinari while carrying a wooden club that is almost as big as him.
Midrax and his mine never seem to be the smartest, nor do I believe they fight as well as my men. For now they are doing fine, their large size and impressive strength makes them seem like worthy warriors, but it takes more than being a large man to win our freedom.
A few kids rush into the streets to play. Their fur is scruffy and dirty. They pick up sticks and wave them around, pretending to be soldiers.
‘I am Marak, chieftain of our people!’ One kid lowers their voice, making a terrible impression of me.
I chuckle under my breath. I don’t want to embarrass them in their fun. They wave sticks like swords, play fighting with each other to see who is going to be the one to free our people.
I reach into my pocket to bring out May’s belt buckle. I wish you could be here, sweetie, playing whenever you want without fear.
My heart feels nothing. I don’t have a sense of sadness, fear, grief. Just emptiness. My soul demands I cry, but my mind calls for wrath. The Cinari deserve so much, oh they deserve everything. I clench my fist on the buckle, my knuckles cracking on its cold, black metal.
Before I break it, I put the buckle back in my pocket, turning to look back at my armour near the door, my skull helmet faces right back at me. I pick it up to see it still has bloodstains on it. The smell of sweat and battle is still fresh.
I like it. The slight damage from battle and the smell of dead Cinari. It gives me the desire to remember the time I killed those beasts. The back of my head itches, as to tell me this should be wrong, enjoying the taste of their blood, the thrill of battle. But I know it is right. This war that I command and orchestrate brings me joy. The Dogs under me, following me, can make it all come true. And I can continue what brings me joy, to continue killing Cinari.
I put my helmet down. I won’t need it today.
I go through the room’s closet and bring out the largest jacket I can find. An ugly brown leather jacket, faded and in desperate need of some repairs. I put it on, looking at myself in the mirror. It almost makes me look like a Cinari, perhaps the fanciest piece of clothing I have on me. It looks ridiculous, a former slave wearing high-class clothing.
A Dog opens the door to my room, a young woman wearing an apron with tools hanging out of the front pocket.
‘Dust wants to see you, Chieftain,’ she says urgently.
‘I’ll be there,’ I reply as I march out of my room.
This has to be important. But what is it?
Without stopping, I weave through streets of Mindas, ignoring the Dogs coming up to me, thanking me and asking questions about my life.
‘Sorry, I don’t have time,’ I keep repeating to them.
I enter his workshop. His apprentices are setting up their tools and workstations. His team doubled in size since the last time I caught up with him, but they are still too small for my liking.
‘Marak, my boy. You look so much like a darn Cinari,’ Dust laughs while he gives me a hug, smiling like there is no problem.
‘You wanted to see me?’ I ask him, confused to see his cheerful welcome.
‘Well, this place has something important that I want you to see.’
Dust escorts me past his workstation into a storage room full of large chunks of purple crystal. Dust gives me his hammer and places a small piece of crystal on the metal table.
‘Try to break it,’ Dust says, crossing his arms with a childish grin.
I raise the hammer above my head. With a swift motion I drive the hammer down onto the gem. The hammer snaps on impact.
Dust laughs in glee.
‘What is it?’ I ask him.
‘The locals call this stuff magic crystal. They found this stuff up north just a few years ago.’
He grabs another hammer, this time with a small crystal shard as the hammerhead. ‘It’s almost unbreakable, unless you have the same type of crystal.’ He breaks the crystal on the table with a light tap of his hammer.
‘This is an excellent find. What are you planning to do with the gems?’
‘That’s why I wanted to see you. We don’t have enough of these gems to make a large stockpile of armour, weapons, or even arrowheads. But I’ve been told of a mine that gets this stuff.’
I fold my arms. ‘Continue.’
‘Up north there is a mine, just like our own. I need you or Midrax to go there and claim that mine. Have some people stay there to mine the crystal so we can improve our armour and weapons.’
‘What about the stuff here? Surely you can make something useful out of it.’
‘I can, but it won’t be a lot. Only a few people can have their armour and weapons upgraded.’
‘Upgrade my gear first. No point for this war to continue if I’m dead.’
‘Ah, so you leaders go first now,’ Dust jokes.
I stare him down, showing my disappointment at his response.
‘Okay, I’ll get into it shortly.’ Dust sighs.
‘Good!’ I prepare to walk out of the room until Dust grabs my arm, stopping me in my tracks.
‘Is everything okay?’
‘Nothing to worry about friend, I just haven’t slept well last night.’ Dust closes the door behind him.
‘Marak, you don’t have to lie to me.’
I avoid eye contact with him. We both stand there in silence, waiting for the other to say something.
Dust sighs, breaking our stand off. ‘Alex is also struggling with the war, but it is clear that you are struggling as well.’
I nod to him.
‘You can’t live like this, Marak. It is necessary to stop for a day to grieve. Alex is also devastated with what happened, he needs you as much as-’
I interrupt him. ‘Shut up! Don’t poke and prod into my issues. I am fine and there is nothing wrong with me!’
‘Marak, I-‘
‘Enough Dust!’ I glare at him.
Dust steps aside, opening the door for me to leave.
I storm out of the room. ‘Get my armour done by next week.’
‘Marak!’ Dust shouts across the workshop.
I stop in my tracks, preparing to give him a verbal lashing.
‘Be careful out there. I love you like my own son. Please stay safe.’
I turn to face him, guilty for my sudden anger towards him.
‘I… I will, friend,’ I respond before I turn away to leave.
I want to say I am sorry, but I can’t believe I am deserving of forgiveness.
However, for now, I need to plan my next move.