All His Wrath

LEMENT-NOR EXULTED IN HOW his elaborate plans were coming together. He’d woven a complex tapestry of deceit, dissembling and misdirection. It was his masterwork. How well he knew the chronic suspiciousness of his “master,” Kahrnahrgx. It would be the rogue leader’s downfall. More pleasing still, Lement-Nor waited to pull away the veil he’d spun before the Preceptor and reveal his actual objective. The hybrid chuckled as he visualized that moment. It would be a special time, meant for savoring deep and long, when he threw down the two who each considered himself Lement-Nor’s master, one completely unaware of the other’s involvement in his downfall and both unaware of Lement-Nor’s true intention. He suffered no internal conflict about the role of gargoyles in the lives of humanity. The source of the conflict between the followers of Kahrnahrgx and those of his troublesome brother, Kimar, meant nothing to the hybrid. Along with the ever-present distractions, scheming about tactics and the absurd waste of resources, Lement-Nor found the opposing arguments tedious. He had been designed to best his opponents, and he intended to do so. Since he’d come to realize this truth—that at its most elemental, all creatures were his opponents—his purpose had been clear.