1.9 The God of War

Part I: The Search for Dagaal
Chapter 1.9: The God of War

“What do you want, oh great Shaitan?” mocked Gwar when he finally answered my summons to a vision meeting. His massive body towered over the crowd that surrounded him, covered in smatterings of what appeared to be blood. Holding a pitchfork in one hand and a serrated sword in the other, the gray giant lashed out at the chaos around him as he appeared to be talking to me from the middle of a battlefield — one that looked vaguely familiar but which I couldn’t place just yet. It was clear Gwar was not amused at my interruption. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

The battlefield was a chaotic swirl of clashing swords and blood-soaked earth. Smoke from countless fires mingled with visions of death, and the cries of the wounded and dying filled the air. Gwar, towering above the fray, was a fearsome figure, his armor glinting dully under the overcast sky.

I could see that my fellow lumenarc had changed little in the years since we last communicated – to begin with, Gwar was still as vain as ever — for even whilst he basked in the glory of the ongoing conflict, it was evident that he was also looking about to see who was watching him — flexing his muscles if he noticed anyone catch his eye. His gray skin was marred with fresh wounds that oozed dark blood, yet he seemed invigorated by the battle. Even amidst the carnage, he carried himself with a haughty grace, as if the battlefield were his stage and the warriors his audience.

“Pay attention!” I snapped, still racking my brains trying to figure out where he was. “The spring season is back in the mountains, and you know what that foul weather does to me.” Feeling the pain anew in my bones, I got up from my throne and pointed a bony finger at him, “You’ve wasted my time yet again, you lummox – it’s taken me months to track you down and when I did you rudely ignored my summons. Why?”

Gwar didn’t respond immediately but instead casually took off his helm and shook out his long black hair — running his fingers through the curly strands. Barely paying me any attention, he said, “You’ll get over it, Shaitan, and frankly I don’t really care.” And before I could explode, Gwar continued, “Don’t you see I’m in Hyperborea? Truth to tell, you have no idea how fierce these people are!”

I was stunned at Gwar’s revelation – the Hyperboreans, half-ape, half-human creatures I had created by breeding Adam with she-apes, were locked in a desperate struggle against each other and Gwar himself – their brutish strength and primal ferocity on full display. I was also surprised that the normally lazy Gwar would venture across the seas to interact with people half a world away – especially because we agreed long ago that his best chance to help Baal-Zebub would be by inciting war on TerrVerde. Quite frankly I wanted Gwar’s actions contained where I could monitor him – and that was on TerrVerde. I certainly didn’t want him loafing about amongst people who I’d long had well under control. And I didn’t want Gwar reporting that fact back to our master when he returned to Illusia.

And yet, I couldn’t resist being interested – how did the brutish Gwar have the desire (and intelligence) to pull off such a massive logistical operation all by himself? Has the beast grown some brains? I wondered. Meanwhile, the scientist in me asked, “How did you incite war among the ape men? Do they have the intelligence to follow your tactics? How are you playing both sides?”

“Tactics? Pshaw! I came over here because I remember you telling me the Hyperboreans were as much beasts as men. I wanted to see what trouble I could stir up. Why didn’t you tell me this was such a gold mine? These men are just so easy to corrupt! I’m sure BZ will be proud.” Gwar smiled, “And speaking of our illustrious master, how is the old boy? I trust that you had an enjoyable visit? Did the boss flash you its winning smile?”

“That’s no concern of yours!” I couldn’t hide a wince as I remembered all too well The Travesty’s cursed visage. “Tell me what happened over here. I’ve heard tales about multiple new wars between the Derkka and the Drokka — and that you were involved in the actual fighting?”

“Ha, now you’re the fool, Skeletor!” Gwar laughed. “Some wars – I wiped the field clean every time. Those Drokka of the mountains are just pitiful. Their weapons are worthless. You oughta gift them a few magical artifacts or something — at least that might make things interesting. But I got such a rush after destroying so many Droks that I decided to thin the herd of your Derks too. If you’d pay attention when you walk around I’m sure you’ll see the bones of thousands of your children.”

“What? How dare you come through my lands without asking me first?” Again I pointed an accusing finger at Gwar, “I demand th—“

But my rival cut me off, “Listen, you weren’t around to ask, remember? And I didn’t feel like waiting until BZ let you go. The next time we get together perhaps we can discuss my wanton behavior if you like.” And Gwar flexed his muscles again as he smiled coyly at me.

“Gwar, you have no idea what fire you are playing with. Don’t tempt my ire, for I will destroy you.” My green eyes began to glow with a deathly aura that few had ever seen (and none lived to tell about) as I descended the throne dais and moved closer to Gwar’s image.

My throne room was a stark contrast to the battlefield. The dark stone walls were adorned with arcane symbols that pulsed with an eerie green light and the air was thick with the scent of burning incense and the whispers of trapped souls. Raising the hood of my cowl over my head, my sparkling eyes suddenly became the only thing visible within the blackness surrounding my skull. I raised my hands and began chanting in the arcane, black language of Illusia.

As my rage grew, my transformation was both terrifying and awe-inspiring (if I don’t say so myself). The air around me began to crackle with raw energy, and my skeletal form seemed to expand, the shadows deepening until I was a silhouette of pure malevolence. My eyes, once a sickly green, flared into blinding emerald orbs, leaking a dark ichor that hissed as it hit the ground. My voice, now a guttural snarl, reverberated through the chamber, sending shivers down the spines of my terrified servants nearby.

Gwar watched with casual disdain, which only furthered my anger – and with my ritual rising to its climax, I unleashed my fury upon him – sending out bursts of jade lightning from my bony fingertips to strike at the spot he was standing upon!

A loud crash sounded and sparks flew all about – obscuring my rival in a burst of flames. There followed a symphony of wretched screams for mercy, and then smoke covered everything.

At last I smiled and took off my hood. My emerald eyes once more regained their glossy haze – leaving no sign of the reddish-black ooze that had just recently seeped forth.

However, when the smoke cleared, there stood Gwar and although he appeared to be standing among the flames, he was completely unscathed!

Only then did I realize my folly — I had merely succeeded in damaging my own possessions, and the screams of terror I had heard were NOT those of the God of War, but instead the cries of my own servants — for I’d forgotten that this was only a vision-meeting!

“Nice show, mighty Shaitan,” Gwar clapped mockingly. “You’ll have to teach me that one. I really like that eye-thing you do — oooh, really scary!”

Gwar’s laughter echoed through our vision, a deep, mocking sound that grated on my nerves. He tossed his helm aside carelessly, his dark hair falling in wild curls around his face. His eyes, bright with the thrill of battle and a hint of madness, met mine without a trace of fear. Even as he dodged blows and dealt death around him, his demeanor was one of infuriating nonchalance, as if the vision meeting were a mere distraction from his real pleasure – the chaos of war. Looking at me again, he added, “Hey listen, man, don’t worry about a few dead Derks. I’m sure you can always make more. Meanwhile, I’m having so much fun over here that I don’t really know if I’ll be back anytime soon.”

I sighed, trying to compose myself, walked back towards my throne and sat down. “Gwar, my brother, I’m sorry for getting angry with you. I admire your wisdom.” Then, after a pause, “And I need your… help. Yes, your wars, they’re all well and fine, and you should continue to do whatever it is that you do best, but remember Baal-Zebub has asked us to coordinate our efforts. Our master grows anxious with us, and that’s a dangerous thing. I think it’s time that you returned — we need to meet in person. I have an idea for a new war – one which could eventually embroil the entire TerrVerde continent – and I need YOUR help to accomplish it.”

“Sorry, old friend, no can do. Oh, I’ll be back eventually, but I’ve got a different agenda than you.”

“Gwar, get yourself back here NOW! Baal-Zebub commands us to—“

“OK, then, if that’s all you have, I’ll be going.” Gwar was now ignoring the conversation, looking this way and that at the renewed fighting that had sprung up all around him.

I could see that the Hyperboreans, with their brutish strength and primal ferocity, were locked in a desperate struggle against him. Gwar speared with his pitchfork, with lethal precision, then pulled it back dripping with gore. The serrated sword in his other hand tore through more flesh, each slash accompanied by a roar of triumph. Looking back at me, Gwar laughed, “Yes, it’s definitely about time for me to go. See you later, old boy. Don’t make yourself too crazy. You should get out more, like me; see the world, get some sun, lose the shabby robe, trust me, you’d feel sooooo much better…not to mention how you look! Gee, Shaitan, you look like death! Oops. Silly me, that’s right. You ARE ‘Death!’ Ha ha ha!”

Once again I was stunned – both at Gwar’s total disregard for my powers and at his unexpectedly clever jab. Before I could respond, my rival added, “Anyway, Shedu, like I said, get away from that stuffy mountain for a while, do something exciting for a change. I really don’t care what you do, just don’t bother me. Next time, don’t call me. I’ll call you. Well, whatever, ta ta!”

And with that, he vanished.

“GWAR!!”

But it was too late, the God of War was gone — having cut off the visitation from his end. Still fuming, I was unable to accept the affront that had just occurred. “GWAR!!” I roared again, shrieking at the spot where he had stood, “GWAR, WHAT ABOUT DAGAAL?!?”