First Light of a New Age

Chapter 128: Glorious Execution & Internet Trolls

Kingdom of High Tarxa, City of Nineveh, Outskirts of Nineveh.

1st Year of God, Thursday, 2nd Week, Month of David

The creaking jolt of iron-rimmed wagon wheels striking a sunbaked hump in the road incited groans and pained gasps through the caged prisoners. The iron bars rattled, dust puffed upward, and the acrid stench of sweat and despair lingered heavier than ever. Several gaunt figures held to the rusted bars with sunken eyes and limbs trembling from hunger and exhaustion.

Flanking the caravan, several burly men in steel armor rode on the tip of massive war land dragons, muscular beasts with rough bark-like scales and yellow reptilian eyes that watched the surroundings with eerie patience. Each beast snorted plumes of hot mist from their nostrils, leaving scorched patches on the gravel road.

At the center of the convoy trundled a lavishly decorated carriage with polished brass trims and crimson drapery fluttering slightly in the dry wind.

Inside one of the more lavishly decorated carriages among the convoy, laid a half naked mustached bald male with a large belly on several fluffy pillows. On his side were three young women scantily dressed and giving him a massage on his shoulders and legs.

They had been on the road for nearly three weeks, crossing farmlands, villages, and forests. Originally, the trip from the outer provinces of Nevah to this central city would've taken no more than one week.
But constant ambushes by desperate highwaymen and frenzied magic beasts had slowed their pace to a crawl.

More than once, the fat elf had cursed the gods for their misfortune. But worse still, they'd lost their only magical communication crystals to one magic beast attack. They were blind to the wider world, no news, no rumors, and no idea what had transpired in the great cities or the capital in their absence.

Finally, after countless nights under the stars and more than a few bodies left unburied along the path, the spires of a city crept into view, a distant mirage of stone walls and tiled rooftops shimmering under the noon sun.

It was one of the many trade cities of High Tarxa, surrounded by a deep moat with its gates flanked by iron watchtowers and newly reinforced ballistae.

As they approached the six-meter drawbridge, the wheels clanked over the wooden planks and echoed in the silence. Another convoy had just crossed before them, eerily similar, but stalled ahead.

From within his mobile sanctuary, the bald elf stirred as the carriage slowed. The sharp rap of a gauntlet against the wooden shutters broke his drowsy indulgence.

The head guard rapped against the wooden window covers of his master.

"Lord Mhuk, we have reached the city gates!"

"Good, good," Mhuk leaned forward from his position and pushed the ornate window panels open. The pungent scent of moat water hit him first, followed by the dry scent of dust and rust as his small beady eyes glanced out at the city gate.

A lone guard in strange angular armor stepped forward.

"State your purpose."

"Purpose?” Mhuk blinked and frowned in annoyance. “Trade, obviously! What else would a merchant lord be doing with cages of goods and whores in tow, hmm?" He scoffed and waved dismissively. "Tsk!"

But the guard seemed unperturbed and said, "Inspection of cargo is mandatory."

The air shifted subtly and Mhuk narrowed his eyes, then gestured lazily to his head guard outside. "You. Deal with it."

"Yes, my lord!" The head guard bowed and hastened off on his beast, the land dragon growling softly as it turned toward the checkpoint.

"Tsk! Lowlives!" Mhuk sneered and leaned back on the pillows once again while the girls fawned all over him.