Finally, here you have the long awaited Chapter two of the Jonos storyline, although this will be more of Celise than Jonos. This has been one of the more difficult things to write and has taken me down roads I've not traveled often. I very much look forward to hearing your reaction.
It's long (the longest story I've ever posted here), so get comfortable and enjoy!
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So it came to pass that Jonos, son of King Janish and Queen Celise, usurped the crown, slaying his father and making his mother his own woman, proclaiming her his Whore Queen of Agosta. Many supported the mighty warrior's claim due to his father's evil ways, but others, feeling threatened by the righteous anger of Jonos over the sins of his father and his cronies would ally themselves with Kallas, the brother of the slain king.
Jonos marched the Imperial armies of Agosta to wage war on Kallas, whose wickedness was perhaps even greater than that of his brother. Thrice did Jonos come to the field of battle against Kallas, but treachery was afoot and Kallas always knew his plans -- yet Jonos always drove Kallas from the field, but could not pursue due to the losses borne of vile betrayal. Finally, Kallas withdrew to the great mountain fortress called Bloodgate upon whose granite walls; armies since the beginning of time have destroyed themselves.
So it came to pass that here would the Whore Queen prove her love to her son and lover beyond all doubt and here where the final contest between Jonos the Usurper and his uncle would came to pass. Gather to me and listen for these were the days of true heroes and this is but one tale of many...
Kallas, self proclaimed King of Agosta sits brooding on his throne, the shadows creeping across the great throne room as the sun slowly sinks behind the jagged spires of the western range of the Iron Shard mountains, his mood darkening as gloom takes the room. The news this day has been troubling at best. Seemingly, all news has been troubling since word had reached him five months ago that his agent's mission to slay his nephew, the usurper Jonos, failed in Atria.
Now word of Jonos's army approaching had come, led by Nasser, that upstart officer who began life as the son of goat-herders. Kallas mutters to himself, more guttural growls than actual words as he again seethes with anger that a commoner-born has been sent to arrest him.
"Hah!" Kallas barks. "His army will die upon the walls of the Bloodgate as has every army ever to approach this fortress." The older man actually trembles, his lank, gray hair falling to cover his troubled visage.
"My liege," says a soft voice at his side. "To whom are you talking?" Kallas glances at his wife and consort -- his Queen Nesharina. Her cobalt blue eyes stare back at him, brilliant against her pale, almost pure white skin and framed by the long, coal black hair that betrays her Nedalian heritage. She is like a beautiful corpse, preserved and animated. Her face is alight with hatred and wickedness, reflecting the black thing deep within her that passes for her soul.
"No one, dearest," he replies. "I grow weary of waiting for that whelp of a nephew to come and confront me so I can end this mockery of his 'kingship.' I want to see his head on the spikes upon the walls of Bloodgate."
Nesharina smiles, an expression that would chill the blood of most mortals should they be so unfortunate as to view it, and she rises from her throne chair and crosses over to her husband, moving slowly as she comes to lay her hand on his arm.
Her body moves with an almost serpentine grace, her gown is immodest but still covers her, hinting more at her smallish breasts and shapely legs than revealing them. "Be patient, my love. My father will soon be marshalling the legions of Nedal and come to your aid and Jonos and his ilk will be caught between the anvil of the Bloodgate and the hammer of the Obsidian Legions. Agosta shall be yours, my love." Her nails dig into Kallas's arm as she shivers with excitement at the thought of so much blood soon to flow.
Her arousal makes things stir in the shadows of the darkening throne room and she pauses to settle them down before continuing. "And remember, my love, we will soon have a guest that will drive Jonos to such anguish as the fool never dreamed existed." She starts to continue, but a commotion erupts from beyond the great hall and Nesharina takes a few steps down off the dais and then turns to her husband and says. "My King, I believe our guest has arrived.
There is a trumpeting of great horns and then as guards push open the huge doors -- twenty feet tall and twelve feet wide, Kallas's chamberlain scurries in and say, "King Kallas, the giants...the giants have come!" He speaks with uneasy glee in his voice. "My liege, they were successful!"
Kallas smiles evilly at this and then turns and nods to a soldier standing nearby who quickly bows and hurries from the room via a hidden door behind the throne. Kallas sits up straighter in his throne and says shrilly, "Bid them enter and deliver to me my prize!"
Scarcely does he utter the words when pushing through the great doors comes five huge creatures -- their skin a burnished and worn amber as if they'd spent centuries standing against harsh mountain winds which has bleached out the long, stringy and colorless hair hanging down past their shoulders. The smallest of them stands almost twelve feet high and the greatest of them is over fifteen feet in height and forced to duck beneath the archway of the great doors. All are dressed in stitched together animal skins, forming crude jerkins that hang to their knees. On their backs are cruel axes that could cleave men in two with one strike and stained with blood which prove that they have done exactly that.
The biggest giant steps forward, dragging a naked human woman with him. "King Kallas, we have come and we claim our bounty!" He shoves the woman towards the throne, the force of his action causing her to stumble and fall hard to her knees.
King Kallas rises from his throne, eyes ablaze with eagerness as he peers down at the woman, naked and filthy, her body and hair gummy and crusted with some whitish substance. The woman raises her head, brilliant green eyes blazing with anger and with one defiant whip of her head, throws her black hair away from her face and says calmly, "Kallas - Jonos would kill you slowly for this."
Kallas claps his hands together like a child given a new toy and replies, "Ah, Celise! So happy are we to see the widow of our late, murdered brother!" He gestures and two guards emerge from the shadows and jerk her to her feet.
Queen Celise jerks away from their grasp and takes a step forward, fists clenched and preparing to swing. Kallas steps back, suddenly uncertain in the fierce heat of the true queen's ire, his hands jerking upwards to fumble at the talisman hanging from his neck. "Your magics will not avail you here, Celise."
Celise's eyes narrow and she recognizes the talisman as similar to one she had encountered just a few months before. She smirks and then gazes around the room until she spies Nesharina still standing by her husband's throne. "Yes, I recognize your wife's baubles. Poorly made, my dear, but if one doesn't mind the costs, its good to have a hobby of sorts. How many years have you sacrificed, Nesharina? You still look well...for your age."
