The Black Talon by Richard A. Knaak

Author:Richard A. Knaak [Knaak, Richard A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-7869-5638-8
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2010-01-25T16:00:00+00:00

The temple to honor the gods had been built, so it was said, at the zenith of the High Ogres’ civilization. However, the temple had fallen into disuse long before the race had degenerated, when the High Ogres came to worship themselves more than any one deity. Then somewhere along the way, the ancient rites honoring Garantha’s patron spirit had been revived, and the grand khans had begun acting as priests of the festival, all the better to mark themselves as favored ones of the spirit.

Not only had time taken its toll on the temple, but much of the maintenance and rebuilding before Golgren’s time had been of a vastly inferior quality compared to the original work. There were cracks that were barely covered by weak mortar, and one column was composed of two different styles cobbled together. However, under Golgren’s not-so-delicate persuasion, his elf artisans had managed in time for that year’s ritual to restore the stylized silhouette of the winged beast set above the entrance, and they also finished two intricate statues of the creature, each standing on one of the thick rails lining the wide steps.

Drumbeats proclaimed the grand lord’s arrival, the steady pounding setting the correct atmosphere. Temple guards—marked by the crude griffon insignias on the apple-sized disks hanging over their breastplates—raised goat horns to announce the entrance of the ogre leader. The banner of the severed hand rose in all directions, in sync with the blaring horns.

The crowds filled every avenue, every veranda, every rooftop. Here and there, individual ogres broke out into fights as they competed for the best view. To be part of the events—and part of Golgren’s moment of glory—was their opportunity to snatch some vestige of glory for themselves.

On horseback, Golgren—resplendent in his brown and green elven robes and with his flattened features accented by subtle makeup to evoke the High Ogres—entered the square surrounding the temple, dismounting just before reaching the ancient structure’s grounds. A large armed escort flanked him and the small party—including Sir Stefan and Idaria—who had accompanied the grand lord. Khleeg directed the warriors along the path to the steps, where the temple guards took over. One of the latter blew a horn, and a hush fell over the sea of onlookers.

The knight was ushered to one side, where Wargroch took over supervision of the “guest.” Golgren stretched his hand toward Idaria. The elf slave unwrapped a two-foot-long bundle of furs that she had been carrying, revealing within a steel mace whose head had been molded to resemble that of a shrieking griffon. The eyes were red rubies, while the beak of the avian creature had been shaped to effect maximum damage. Symbolic the weapon might have been, but as was the way of ogres, it also had a use.

Gripping the mace and resting the head of it across his other arm, Golgren strode up the steps. Idaria, her head low, retreated near the human. Khleeg accompanied his lord, both as honor guard and as one honored. Only the most favored were so fortunate.

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