Book VIII: Ajax the Freemaker
Chapter 5: The War Machine
Meanwhile, as the Drokka priests were fleecing the public, I stayed busy on the ‘god’ front by continuing to appear to the Derkka as Baal – promising Bashumel and his minions that their former slaves would surely die in the ratholes they escaped to and distracting the Derkka people by helping further advance their own civilization throughout Gor and even to the northan lands of Kra.
However, contrary to what my Baal told the Derkka, the Drokka didn’t really die off and instead quickly learned to flourish in the mountains – guided by my Rhokki persona’s advice.
As the years went by and the city of Oz grew, the Drokka eventually built up enough resources for me to move the plan forward. That’s when I then had Rhokki command them to fight a ‘holy war of retribution’ against their cursed rivals as payback for the many years of slavery and abuse. Here the Drokka priests did a bang up job of influencing their congregations to buy into Rhokki’s war, and so it was that the lower class families of the Drokka happily sent their sons off to war under the command of ‘Kon-Herr’ Ajax, who in spite of his age, wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to perhaps finally clear his own conscience.
During these conflicts, the Drokka, under the banner of Rhokki, forged an identity steeped in vengeance and divine mandate. The priests preached that their suffering had been a trial by fire, preparing them for their righteous retribution. The lower classes, fueled by a combination of faith and rage, rallied behind their leaders, unaware of the manipulation that orchestrated their lives.
Although Bashumel had since died, his son Bashumel II was just as evil and when he got wind of the opportunity to avenge his father’s greatest failure, he was all too happy to send his armies into battle. The Derkka, under Bashumel II, fortified their defenses, expanding their territories and advancing their technologies with Baal’s dark blessings. The Derkka’s war machine became a formidable force, with Bashumel II’s ambition driving them to dominate their foes. Yet, the constant bloodshed took a toll on both civilizations.
Thus it was that a never-ending series of battles between Derkka and the Drokka began. All of which which had only one definitive result: countless young men from both sides died senseless deaths (and became a source of new souls for me to ingest).
For his part, Ajax never faltered in his belief in Rhokki’s holy mandate and as a result he led his army into numerous wars – eventually dying a glorious death on the battlefield and solidifying his place as one of my many useful pawns in history (and his soul was quite delicious too!).
[Since I didn’t want to keep up the tedium of having to continually appear to the Drokka as Rhokki (let’s face it, the guy is boring), I made use of an opportunity to delegate. Recognizing the greed that had been bred into those former turncoat families of the Drok who’d once served as ‘overseers’ of their peers for the Derkka slave masters, I arranged matters such that they could secretly reestablish ties with their ‘elite’ peers among the Derkka clan. An ‘arrangement’ was set up that allowed certain monies and resources to flow unfettered between the rich on both sides using Rhokki’s ‘war machine’ as a cover.
It worked to perfection – allowing me to focus on other things, whilst the rich ‘rivals’ on both sides of the war orchestrated affairs to keep the battles flowing. It was a win-win for all involved – well perhaps not for the thousands of young men from all those poor families on both sides who died in the fighting, but such is the way of the world, right?
Meanwhile, the rich elites on the Drokka side got another bonus – since Ajax (and the Kon-Herr’s who followed him) were forced to rely on these wealthy families to finance the kings’ armies, these de facto ‘bankers’ were quietly granted untold land rights for large swaths of properties throughout the mountains (many of which contained valuable minerals and gems) – thus further enriching these greedy turncoats and solidifying their place amongst the ‘pillars’ of Drokka high society].They soon controlled the wealth and resources of the entire Drokka economy, their influence growing unchecked as they became unseen puppeteers, guiding the fate of their people from the shadows.
As the wars raged on, the Drokka’s society evolved. The common people, bound by faith and duty, toiled and bled, their sacrifices feeding the ambitions of the elite – unaware they were being grinded up in a military industrial complex that used war to generate wealth for the rich elites from their own clans who cared nothing for them. The theology of Rhokki, distorted and corrupted, became a tool of control, ensuring that the masses remained subservient and The Naves priests enforced this order, their sermons echoing the will of their hidden master [aka ME!]
And yet, all was not lost for the Drokka nation. The Rhokki Mountains, and their home city of Oz, once the merely sanctuary they escaped to, eventually became a fortress. The Drokka also delved deeper into the mountains over time, mining the rich veins of minerals and gems – these resources fueled their war efforts (as well as enriched the elites of the clan). The city of Oz grew into a symbol of defiance to Gor, its spires even reaching through the surface of the mountains and towards the heavens above.
And still the wars continued. Soon the lands of Gor ran red with blood for the next couple hundred years and I gorged myself on more souls than I could count. It was fabulous! There were three Drokka Purification Wars [the death of Ajax marked the end of the last one], followed by decades of Drokka-Derkka Death Wars.
Neither side really won a decisive victory (because that was never the goal) but one thing was certain – whilst the leaders on both sides made endless proclamations vowing they’d never give up the fight against their ‘enemies’, the common people solidified a legitimate hatred for one another that would last for centuries to come as the endless cycle of war and death left deep scars. Generations of men from both clans were raised on tales of vengeance and glory, each side viewing the other as the embodiment of evil. This enmity became a part of their identities, passed down from parent to child, ensuring that the conflicts would never truly end.
As for Ajax, although he’d long since perished in battle, his legacy endured, and his name becoming a rallying cry for the Drokka. His life and death were mythologized by Drokka historians in The Kroniklz and his deeds were immortalized in songs and stories.
He became a symbol of their struggle, a martyr whose spirit was believed to guide them in battle. The Kon-Herrs who followed in his footsteps were measured against his legend, each striving to live up to the hero who had led them to freedom.
For me these were grand times – for the perpetual state of war and hatred kept the souls flowing, feeding my insatiable hunger to feast on the stellarones from the before I returned them back to the secret prisons I kept then in until they were needed again. And so the cycle of life death and rebirth for Kane’s people continued – always serving my grand designs.
The Apocrypha of Azazel 