[ When Morax brushes shoulders with him, Azhdaha leans into the faint touch offering himself as a place for the other to lean upon, a support that would not crumble no matter how violent or different the world spun around them. It is not even a conscious thought so much as it is act of muscle memory— an ingrained habit after years of walking this path together. On yellowed scrolls of parchment that Morax had always favored, Azhdaha had offered his eternal service to Rex Lapis. Signed and sealed and kept safe like all of his other contracts. But that was just a formality, a pebble in the foundation of their shared efforts and dreams for the many years that they had spent together.
As cliche as it sounded, Morax had been the one to bring light to Azhdaha's darkness. He would follow the other to the ends of the earth. Which made Osial's betrayal that much more bitter to stomach. That he would squander Morax's generosity so. And worse yet, use it to hurt him. ]
Osial is a fool. But a crafty one at that.
[ What Morax had bartered through fairness and principles, Osial had bought through avarice and grandeur accompanied by risks that would inevitably result in someone paying the price. As long as Osial was fluid enough to dodge the consequences of his actions, then the house of cards remained standing. Perhaps even looking more fortified and plentiful than what Rex Lapis had to offer.
Surely there was a generous bounty on Morax's head even as the two of them crept farther and farther into the serpent's layer. And though many would not succeed, all it would take was one. One misstep. One miscalculation. One chance of a thousand or a hundred thousand or a million.
(A chance that would not happen under Azhdaha's watch.)
He falls into step behind Morax even before he is asked to follow. As if there was anywhere else for him to be beside the right hand of Rex Lapis. ]
It is a pity really that he succumbed to his own pride and greed. But there is no mercy for those who renege upon their contracts.
[ The polished floors are damp the further in they go, and in the distance there is a haunting dripping sound that echoes through the hallways.
For many quiet moments, they pass no more guards and meet no resistance. The only sign of life around them are the hastily ransacked rooms of panicked traders and merchants and other non-combatants (those who knew better than to stick around in the rising tension between two dons). It is only when they approach the core of the complex which would house Osial and his lieutenants that the disorderly chaos stops. The water is now an inch deep, enough to catch their reflection across its surface as they walk.
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As cliche as it sounded, Morax had been the one to bring light to Azhdaha's darkness. He would follow the other to the ends of the earth. Which made Osial's betrayal that much more bitter to stomach. That he would squander Morax's generosity so. And worse yet, use it to hurt him. ]
Osial is a fool. But a crafty one at that.
[ What Morax had bartered through fairness and principles, Osial had bought through avarice and grandeur accompanied by risks that would inevitably result in someone paying the price. As long as Osial was fluid enough to dodge the consequences of his actions, then the house of cards remained standing. Perhaps even looking more fortified and plentiful than what Rex Lapis had to offer.
Surely there was a generous bounty on Morax's head even as the two of them crept farther and farther into the serpent's layer. And though many would not succeed, all it would take was one. One misstep. One miscalculation. One chance of a thousand or a hundred thousand or a million.
(A chance that would not happen under Azhdaha's watch.)
He falls into step behind Morax even before he is asked to follow. As if there was anywhere else for him to be beside the right hand of Rex Lapis. ]
It is a pity really that he succumbed to his own pride and greed. But there is no mercy for those who renege upon their contracts.
[ The polished floors are damp the further in they go, and in the distance there is a haunting dripping sound that echoes through the hallways.
For many quiet moments, they pass no more guards and meet no resistance. The only sign of life around them are the hastily ransacked rooms of panicked traders and merchants and other non-combatants (those who knew better than to stick around in the rising tension between two dons). It is only when they approach the core of the complex which would house Osial and his lieutenants that the disorderly chaos stops. The water is now an inch deep, enough to catch their reflection across its surface as they walk.
Drip. Drip. Drip. ]