Scenes in Aresgate

_{Scenes of Sidax addressing his followers within the captured city of Aresgate.}

The lithe, long-eared figure of Sidax the Warbeast stands barefoot atop the sleeping god at the center of the colosseum. He is dressed in his iconic skintight black bodysuit and long, fur-lined robes of deepest violet. In the stands are hundreds of his most loyal hyenafolk and mercenaries who had camped outside the city, waiting for the call to adventure. Sidax provided that call, and soon he would lead them on a crusade of his own devising.

"Avatars of the almighty Xengral, hear me now! Our lord has blessed us with the might to bring Aresgate to heel, but our ambitions will not end here! Now begins the greatest of works: the subjugation of all of Oswia!" shouts the Warbeast, his white fur bristling with excitement.

The beating of a great drum backs the raucous din of men and beastmen alike gnashing and cheering. Sidax motions for silence before continuing.

"For eons Xengral has battled the forces of civilization which seek to bend the wild to its will, upending the natural order! Here in Feylin the weak rule over the strong, and the constant conflict that drives the wild is a distant memory. No more! Now, we bend civilization to our image! I have wrested power from the cowardly elite and exposed peace for the lie that it is. This city will breed real warriors! Warriors that will bring Xengral's truth and beauty to the far corners of the world!"

Sidax pauses again for his army's uproarious excitement before continuing.

"But first, there is work to be done. It is time to reach out beyond the walls of our capitol and build the supply lines that will secure our supremacy. We will give the pathetic, lazy masses the opportunity to create! The opportunity to contribute to our power! The opportunity to toil in advancement of our savage future! We march west to conquer the remainder of the territory north of the Chrysocolla sea, and all that lie within it. The wrenches of this land shall become our forge, and with it we will create a speartip to pierce the heart of Oswia! Let our beauty blind them! Let our savagery cast fear into their hearts! And let the new order  remake them in my image, the Host of Xengral!"

___


Hours later, Sid stews in what is once again his office. He allowed himself to be felled by pride once, but he will not underestimate his enemies again. Those pathetic runts survived his glorious Ripple and at least one of them is now aware of his relationship to Xengral. A proactive approach to this front is warranted.

Five gnolls enter without a word. His elite guard, who were instrumental in defending his person while the rebel elements of Aresgate were brought in line. Fang the tracker, Cassuva the trapper, Sheek the hidden, Grimvold the worldshaper, and Brutus, Paladin of Xengral. All have been granted an exceptional measure of the power Sid wields. It is a risk to send them away, but not nearly as large as the risk those filthy rats present.

"Your task is a simple one: track down Ida the gnome, Stavroula the satyr, and Uusi the kobold. Eliminate them. I'd prefer you do so in the presence of an audience so that they are only remembered for the sorry state of their corpses, but I'll be satisfied with any successful method. And if you happen to come across my old friends Cassandra the halfbreed and Tor the firbolg, dispatch with them as well. I do not like loose ends."

The gnolls accept the task with a solemnity not often associated with their kind. The weight of a god's power necessitates a great deal of focus, even when it's a god of chaos. The hunt has begun.