Part VII: The Twin Towers Conspiracy
Chapter 5: It was an Inside Job
Timeline AO 298-299
The Siq stood as a testament to Drokka engineering—a pair of towering behemoths that stretched skyward. Built at the narrow entrance to Rhokki Pass on the side facing Gor, these colossal sentinels had long symbolized the strength and unity of the Drokka clans, an unyielding gateway to the heart of their mountain kingdom AND an impenetrable barrier to keep the accursed Derkka goblins at bay. Yet, as the winds howled through the narrow canyons surrounding the towers, an air of foreboding clung to the stones, unseen by those who bustled within and without the fortress – for those twin towers were soon to be toppled.
What most Drokka didn’t know is that, back in Babel, the Priory of the Myz had been emboldened by a gift from Zar —a new, terrible combustible substance, more powerful than any weapon the world had yet seen. Although Zar’s name was on the gift, it was my alter ego Baal who actually created it, and since I knew Zar was too stupid to explain what it was I didn’t even bother to tell him, but instead delivered it myself during one of the Feast of the Shadows rituals conducted by the Priory’s inner circle – then it was I assured them that this new weapon would give them the power to change the fate of the world. [That actually wasn’t true, but they didn’t need to know that]. Recognizing the opportunity gifted to them, the Priory’s leadership then conspired with their peers in the Drokka cabal to ‘control the damage’ and script the aftermath.
Meanwhile, back at The Siq, beneath the surface, a deadly game was being played here too, a game that would soon bring those mighty towers crashing down. Although historically, The Siq had always served as a challenging gateway that few had the ability to pass through and even then they had to carry strict credentials and a military escort. Yet under Baldur, those policies were relaxed in favor opening the borders to trade and diplomacy in order to bring the Drokka on par with the rest of the world. As a result The Siq began to change – becoming more of a nexus for travelling merchants and diplomats – yet for most of Baldur’s reign, The Siq was still a barrier to the Derkka – even after Baldur married the Derkka princess Gawain, the Drokka public as a whole and certainly the military forces still were not keen on being overly friendly their hated rivals. When Baldur finally moved to an ‘open border’ policy, the flood gates were opened for Derkka of all types to enter the mountains (much to the delight of the Boma’s).
And so it was that the demeanor of the visitors that entered through The Siq began to change. They were no longer merely eager merchants traveling in search of profit, or politicians on a diplomatic mission from East to West, or even mere bards on their way to greener pastures. Instead ‘others’ came to – silent specters moving with purpose, their eyes avoiding contact, their hands gripping their wares with too much care – for these were The Priory’s spies and they were on a mission.
Over time, the air within the towers became thick with tension. Lord Aric and Chaney Busz’s spies moved through the shadows like wraiths, watching the Derkka infiltrators – yet the cabal’s spies did more than monitor their supposed enemies—they also facilitated them. Doors were left unlocked, guards were conveniently reassigned, and paths to the undercroft were illuminated in the most subtle ways.
The underground foundations of The Siq, where the towers met the bowels of the flat earth, became the playground of these goblin infiltrators. Guided by Busz’s handlers, they carried with them crates of Zar’s deadly substance, careful not to disturb its volatile nature. Each visit, they added to the growing stockpile, deep within the unguarded recesses of the towers, hidden from the eyes of those above.
Above ground, the tension mounted as rumors of unrest began to circulate. General Haraclez, at the direction of Mirkir the Wyze, had taken his Iztak forces eastward, ostensibly on a routine patrol. Yet, his true mission lay in covertly sowing chaos—a minor border town was set ablaze, its people slaughtered, and Heraclez and his men cast the blame the Amorosi of Regalis forest – drawing the attentions of all away from the westward facing Siq.
Yet even when things were looking so good for Hecla and her conspirators, there was a brief period when it all looked like it might come crashing down. For just after Chaney Busz told the cabal The Priory’s weapon was nigh ready to deploy, then it was that Malchior told Hecla in private that his master Mirkir had begun to have second thoughts – the Wyze One was apparently unable to come to grips with partnering with the accursed Derkka – for the ends did not justify the means when it came to the Drokka religion.
Hecla accompanied Malchior back to Iztak to deal with this unexpected fire. Yet to her surprise the Wyze One wouldn’t even accept an audience with the princess. It almost looked as if Mirkir might derail everyone’s plans.
But I wasn’t about to let that happened – remember I had skin in this game too. I’d been grooming Baldur for his little fall for decades and I wasn’t about to miss out on my prize. So I took matters into my own hands – appearing to Mirkir as The Spirit at The Well of Wyzdom.
“If you play the long game, Mirkir, you can steer this calamity to your advantage. The secular plans of the Rukstinz and Busz will fail. What matters wealth when the Ragnarok comes? Allow the sacrifice of the few to reward the many. Accept your place as the Bringer of Justice. And know this – Rhokki will reward you when he returns, ushering in a new era of divine rule – with you on the throne,” the Spirit lied.
Mirkir, swayed by the vision of a holy Ragnarok, where the faithful would rise above the corrupt and the wicked, and he would lead them into a glorious future, gave his blessing to the plan. He even took it upon himself to ensure the faithful were prepared for the coming storm, his priests preaching sermons throughout the realm on the “Power of Sacrifice,” priming the populace to accept the tragedy that was about to unfold as ‘the will of the gods.’
Problem solved. Your welcome. [Yet I’ve always found it funny that human leaders have no problem sacrificing others to get what they want but they never seem to make any sacrifices themselves].
Back at The Siq, the action had never stopped. Because of Baldur’s open border policies, Derk terrorists repeatedly got inside The Siq – and once inside, they often conveniently got ‘lost’ (re: ‘found’ by Busz’ handlers), and then these nefarious goblins made their way to the also conveniently unprotected foundations of each of the towers.
It’s important to note that the Siq’s defenders remained oblivious to the growing danger beneath their feet – for they were blinded by their routine, by decades of inaction under Baldur’s pacifism, and most of all by the assurance of the fortress’s invincibility. Even as more Derk traders were lost to Drokka authorities, The Siq’s guard paid little mind, dismissing the incidents as minor annoyances.
It took time to make sure the weapons material I gave The Priory could be sufficiently accumulated to have enough force to bring down both towners, but eventually, by the end of the year AO298, everything was ready to go. The explosive material brought in via the Priory of the Myz had been carefully amassed, its potential for destruction unimaginable. Lord Aric’s spies ensured that the final preparations went unnoticed, while Chaney Busz’s operatives readied themselves for the moment of truth – making sure their ‘enemies’ had everything they needed to carry out their mission AND making sure they would go through with it.
The attack was set for Mining Day AO299 and the night before the attack, a storm rolled in, draping The Siq in a cloak of darkness. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the twin towers as they loomed over the pass, their blackened stones gleaming with an ominous sheen.
Back at Rhokki Pass, Hecla sat at her looking glass, looking at her reflection. She felt a shiver of anticipation, knowing that the events she’d help to orchestrate would change the course of history. She had played her part well, aligning herself with the right people, manipulating the right strings. But will it all work out as I hope? She wondered.
I’m sure you can guess how it went from here. The towers of The Siq were about to fall in epic fashion (it was an inside job!) – and the most beautiful aspect of all was that nothing could stop it!
But before I can tell you that story, I need to finish another tale – let’s return to our friend Hef Fastuz. If you’ll recall, back in AO287 I commissioned the legendary arms maker to craft my Weapon of Mass Destruction – one far more powerful than the combustible that was about to destory the twin towers. One with the power to destroy a god!
Don’t you want to know how that project turned out?
The Apocrypha of Azazel 