The Dragonwalk Highway: The Fellowship of Thirteen

14 - Lozen the Deceiver

The black bags were removed from Oron and Mo's heads. Oron fully expected to find himself in a dark, dank dungeon full of terrifying torture devices, but the place he found himself was just the opposite. The room had windows all around the perimeter filling the space with light. Between each window hung a painting portraying an important event from the Demon War with Pazuzu and his forces from The Beyond. The Battle of the Ogre's Back. The Massacre at Mushroom Swamp. The Final Encounter between Pazuzu and the Legendary Hero. The whole story played out frame by frame. But all of that paled in comparison to the room's centerpiece. In the center of the room sat a throne made of human skulls, a throne fit for the Demon Lord himself.

There was a flourish of trumpets. A man in a blood red cloak entered the back of the room and then immediately dove onto the ground. Another man walked in and did the same. Then another. And another. Lined up next to each other in their capes they created a royal walkway, a red carpet. Then HE walked in.

A quick word about the gentleman you're about to meet. Whatever his name once was had long since been forgotten. Now he was known as Lozen the Deceiver. He wore a long silk cloak of the darkest black and a pair of black boots that added two inches to his height. The long scar that ran from his chin to his eyebrow was a testament to the evil he had done to reach the pinnacle of villainy in the city of lost souls. As you can probably tell from the décor, he was a history nut and had crowned himself the Dark King of the Dragonwalk Empire.

Lozen marched into the room, stepping on the backs of the men lying on the floor. When he passed over one man, that man ran to the front of the line and continued the walkway. The perpetual motion pathway led Lozen to his throne. He sat on the throne of skulls and surveyed his captives.

Oron plastered a shit-eating grin across his face. "Greetings, sir, allow me to introduce myself and my goat companion. I am—"

"Oron Rumrunner and Moloch the cursed goat who was once a man," Lozen finished for him. "I never thought I would see the two of you in this village again. Not after what you did."

Oron and Mo glanced over at each other and shrugged.

Lozen stood and approached, walking over his human walkway until he stood directly in front of our rogues. He stood so close they could smell the fish he had for breakfast. Then—he smiled. In a grand, sweeping gesture, he caught Oron and Mo in his embrace and picked them up off the ground.

"The balls on you two! Unbelievable! To show back up here after what you two did without knowing if the Bloodhound Gang had been eliminated yet. The balls!"

Oron and Mo laughed uncomfortably along with Lozen.

"Yup. Balls. We got 'em," Oron said. "Right there under Mo. There they are. So-uh—the Bloodhound Gang. They still around?"

Lozen motioned back to his throne of skulls. "You're looking at 'em, boys."

"Hmm," Mo said. "Looks uncomfortable."

"Thanks to you two and your double-cross I am the King of Thieves. Lockhaven is mine. And when I heard you two were back in town, I arranged a little celebration."

He clapped his hands. Two masked thugs entered shoving two women in front of them. The women were filthy and skeletal. They were peppered in bruises and black and blue marks. The thugs dumped the women on the ground.

"I know you two missed the final massacre—which was a lot of fun—but we've been torturing their women for a month or so to keep the good times rolling." He dragged the women to their feet by their hair. "So here is my gift to you."