Keeper Sidarian absently sat on his over stuffed throne, lost in his own thoughts. Today, not even the sweet caress of his slave girls could calm his busy mind. He was simply too focused on the new challenge at hand.
“Ranma...” he growled lightly. “Who are you?”
If there was one thing Sidarian prided himself on, it was his knowledge of his rivals. He knew their hidden pasts and their darkest secrets. He knew their business enterprises, their military ventures, their secret plots, the locations of their dungeons, the names of their minions, the faces of their henchmen, and much more. He probably knew them better than they knew themselves.
In fact, it was only by his infinite grace that they continued to exist. All of them were pitiful when compared to his grace. It was only his belief that armed conflict was a risky waste of energy, unsure by its very nature, and that his ends would better be achieved by stealth and guile that he hadn't had his forces storm their fortresses long ago.
After all, unlike them, he had earned his dungeon heart through his own skills. He had been the one to plan the downfall of Keeper Falcon. It was he who united and army of rogues, making himself master of the shadows. It was he who through his criminal connections could rightfully claim to be the true lord of Skid Row? What had those other fools accomplished? Nothing!
Keeper Zeldon... what a joke. That old priest had been a Keeper for a thousand years, and his greatest accomplishment was nothing more than being a notable flesh peddler. He had no armies, no glories, all he had to his name was a legion of whores. The senile fossil was a waste of a perfectly good Dungeon Heart.
That cow, Nelfania? By all that was corrupt, even her name made him wish to vomit. Why the hideous sow wasn't even a proper underworlder! She was a once goodly noblewoman who vanity had been so extreme that she'd actually paid in cash for a Dungeon Heart. He snorted. And all that orc with a human face had accomplished in the meantime was her endless futile quest to restore her decayed beauty. How pitiful.
Then you had that insufferable elf. Malbrin was nothing more than a former lackey of a dead Greater Keeper. Only reason he was even alive was because he'd been judged too pitiful, to spineless, to warrant destruction. Despite his arrogance, he was nothing more than a charity case... so much for dark elf pride.
Now, Keeper Ranma... he was a total unknown.
He sneered. If there was one thing he hated it was unknowns.
From what little he could tell though, the boy was a beginner. He'd been seen shopping in Skid Row, though he found that no one could remember him entering. As such it was likely that the vile little brat had some form of holdings in Skid Row. He'd have to locate those holdings, destroy them, and then punish his servants for their ineptitude.
Now, besides the obvious display in the auction, he was seen dealing with the dragon, Devistus. It was at the dragons lair that the assassins had made their move. The battle had been mostly contained to the dragons quarters but from what he had heard, there was some spill into the main tunnels. From what little he'd heard from those who had been in the tunnels, the boy was apparently a capable mage as he'd quite handedly fried Malbrin's Elf with lightning.
Afterwards, he'd been seen traveling with the old dragon himself. If somehow, he'd convinced Devistus to join him... the old dragons knowledge could prove to be of great danger. Fortunately, the old dragon worked for no one, so it was most likely that he was just showing the young fool the location of Hed's isolated armory.
Leaving the armory, Ranma was clad in the armor of a Dark Knight. Confusing for a mage, but he probably just wished to strike a more intimidating figure. He was short and unimpressive after all.
After that he seemed to be joined by some cast off dungeon minions and left. This was especially insulting as his own traitor of a troll, Smeeg, had joined him as a blacksmith. That, compounded with the other insults would not be easily forgiven.
Well, after the boy had left, his pet ghost, which for some reason Zeldon was afraid of, Sidarian chalked that up to senility, but the ghost had hired a Mistress and bought some books. Nothing really worth noting.
All in all, Ranma was not an impressive example of a Keeper, save one factor: he had a Horned Reaper. How he'd managed that alone was a epic feat and a frightening one. That single creature alone... it made him shutter what the beast could do.
He needed to know more, and he needed to know it now. That meant sending minions out to gather information and other such acts of infamy...
Using his the Hand of Evil, the psycho-magical representation of his power as a Dungeon Keeper, he snatched up two of his best and dropped them before him.
With a short screech of surprise, that never ceased to amuse him no matter how many times he heard it, his two minions appeared in the air before him and struck the ground.
With a sigh, the Keeper sat back as the two shook off the stunning effects of the summoning and clambered to their feet. With a thin grin he looked over the two before him. Nord the Rogue and Morton the Warlock, two of his best.
“You summoned oh great one?” Morton asked with a very low bow.
“Yeah, how can I serve ya, boss?” Nord added, prompted on by Morton's rampant sycophantic tendencies.
“Nod,” he began, “You are to assemble a team, go to Skid Row, and discover all you can about this 'Keeper Ranma'.”
“'Kay, Boss.” he replied.
“Morton, you will assemble a crew, take the cargo-barge and search up and down the river and any branches there of for any sigh of a dungeon.”
“And if we are successful, oh exalted one?” Morton asked.
Sidarian smiled thinly. Both of these cretins had their weaknesses. Morton was in love with one of his pleasure slaves and would do just about anything to spend some 'quality' time with her and from the look of it the little tart secretly returned his affections.
The girl was a mix in bed, he had to admit that, but he was growing tired of her. That left him with some options to consider. First, he could just sell her off. She was used good so she would not catch the price he paid for her, but she was still a very well trained slave. Second, he could have her killed. That was always fun. Or he could be gregarious just give the little whore to the love struck idiot...
Nord on the other hand was easy. He was greedy and loved money. He could get him to do just about anything, he need only throw enough money.
“We shall see,” he replied with a smile. “Now, be gone, and do not return until you have that which I desire...”
Read the comments on this episode
See other episodes by PsyckoSama
(Posted Sat, 14 Apr 2007 06:34)
Questions? Problems? Suggestions?
Send a mail to addventure@bast-enterprises.de
or use the contact form.
らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
All other series and their characters are © by their respective creators or owners. No claims of ownership of these characters are implied by the authors of this Addventure, or should be inferred.
The Anime Addventure is a non-profit site.