(Part 1)

It was custom in Ciston for those involved with governing the city to gather for a weekly feast. From petty bureaucrats to operatives of shadowy agencies, whose existence was little more than rumor, all were welcome. These gatherings built a sense of camaraderie. Provided an accurate gauge who-was-who in City politics. And, since most of those assigned to keep the peace were in attendance, often turned into the wildest parties in a city where anything goes. However, one invitee had been long absent.

Cy Borgg had politely rebuffed numerous invitations, even those delivered by females rather practiced in persuading males. Finally the invitations to the latest gathering became too insistent to ignore. A mock(?) threat of the whole affair, including livestock slated for the feast, being moved into his office did finally yield an invitation's acceptance. His arrival was greeted with shouted welcomes. Almost oblivious to the camaraderie Cy proceeded to the head table, acknowledged all with curt wave, then began giving a report of the latest goings-on concerning Ciston and lands beyond, much after the fashion of a subordinate ordered to account for their actions by a master.

His voice was in the manner of normal conversation, much too soft to be heard amidst the raucous din. An unaccustomed calm settled over the gathering as all strained to hear what was being said.

"... Word has finally reached us from Tibbs. That miserable assassin I released safely arrived at the Amazon Capital. In response the Amazon Queen offered freedom to the agreed upon number of slaves though one asked to remain. From all accounts this was freely done by the fool, so the Amazon Queen has kept her word. The remaining captives are safe on Varna's side of the border. Unfortunately news from the Demon Realm carries neither such hope nor clarity.

Our offers of treaty and alliance have been rebuffed or ignored. Though gone the Demon King still casts a long shadow over the realm.

Few believe SpineGnasher will not return and none dare mouth such words. Some say his rebirth is imminent and thus true followers must hold to their faith. Others hold he has already reformed. The Demon King merely waits safely hidden till regaining full might is regained and revenge fully plotted. A few whisper of another demon, both ancient and powerful, that has returned after many centuries absence. This other vies for the crown against SpineGnasher loyalists. Recently this upstart is rumored to hold the ex-Demon King captive. All these tales have adherents who'll swear mighty vows to their truths. Not one can provide the slightest shred of hard evidence as to their rectitude."

An uncomfortable silence followed as Cy silently surveyed the gathering. A few murmurs arose about restarting the festivities. There was a call or two for the wine to be brought round again. However, cheerful banter died an instant death when Cy next spoke. His voice roiled with ill suppressed hatred and filled the hall with preternatural intensity,

"Why am I here?!"

(Part 2)

Sages, studied in matters of demon lore, hold that that race draws power from strong emotions. Further a Demon's psyche is not a thing of balance, no interplay of yin and yang. Rather it is entirely given over to darkness. A demon's soul experiences knows no discord from doing, what mortals term evil, since there is nothing of good in their hearts oppose such actions.

Being a strange mixture of demon and mortal it's impossible to know what lies in Cy Borgg's heart. However, it was rumored the Ciston Knight harbored hatreds so intense they can drive him temporarily insane. Those attending this week's festivities were uncomfortably close finding out if the truth of those rumors. Staring at the assembly he appeared primed for just such an explosion when one lesser bureaucrat, at the prodding of his superior, hesitantly stated called out, "We were just worried about your health ... about your wound."

Surprisingly rather than triggering mindless violence the simple question invoked a reasonable response, "My ... health?!" Cy pondering for a moment.

The incident referred to happened weeks earlier during a nondescript Chaos Woods battle. Though untouched by claw or blade Cy fell mortally wounded during a rather nondescript battle. At great cost to his comrades he was returned to Ciston. For a time he lay as one shattered, hardly able to sit up and useless at casting even the simplest spell. No few 'miracle' cures were tried but he remained broken in some strange way. Strength and magic eventually returned, but nothing brought permanent healing. A few asked what happened. But such inquiries invariable drove Cy's into a rage and what terse enigmatic answers he offered up gave no insight.

This time a calmly stated and understandable response was forthcoming, "It waxes and wanes on its own accord, quite indifferent to the ministration of mortal charlatans. Hmphh, nothing but snake-oil peddlers the lot of them. Unfortunately Demonkind does not much practice healing magics. And my nature, being both mortal and demon, makes their few spell unusable."

Momentarily his strange calm fractured, "Greydawn!!! Filthy interfering sorcerer! I'll have him over a hot fire for this."

After a few moments he mastered himself again. "Now that we've exchanged pleasantries I shall be away. Enjoy your festivities."

Another of the crowd quickly chimed in, "Sir. It's come to our attention that, in your great wisdom, you've seen fit to alter the judgment rendered against a convicted spy. Said Elf was lawfully tried and sentenced death. It is general procedure that spies agreeing to turn double agent and provide useful information concerning their spy networks. Only after any such information is verified and several high officials approve is mercy shown ..."

Cy abruptly finished the statement "... and this Elf has refused all manner of cooperation, even to not proving us his name. Further his only statement was that he considers our city is a cesspit and its inhabitant pox-rotted maggots. So you're wondering why am I being merciful? Or question to that effect."

Smiling Cy nodded and chuckled, "You rehearsed that. Word by word it was carefully crafted to be asked after wine and attractive distractions had lowered my guard. So that's the reason I'm here." Nodding once more, "Very impressive, remarkable few knew of that order. Your details are a bit off though. I have offered banishment in lieu of execution and not clemency."

At that a Draxxmir follower added a more fiery comment, "Banishment? For a filthy elf? What punishment is that? That tree kissing flit's greatest desire is to slinking away like all those cowardly ..."

Again Cy rudely cut short the speaker, "I don't think that's the salient question . What you really want to ask is, what right do I have to take these actions?"

"The answer is simply" Articulating every word distinctly, "Because ... I ... can." Smiling once more he finished with, "I wish you a pleasant repast. I'm sure you will have quite a rousing discussion, with all of it of a charitable nature no doubt."

A few hands strayed to their weapon hilts as he walked out, but none were so bold as to strike the first blow.

His last comment was half right. The ensuing conversation was extremely spirited. None of the comments were by any standard charitable however.

(Part 3)

It is said that all things of the mortal world have their limits. Yet Cy Borgg's arrogance seemed unrestricted by boundaries of any sort. Those suffering his insufferable conduct of the prior night were determined to teach him some restraint. A member of their company, a newly elected councilman from one of Ciston's outlaying provinces, was assigned to consult with the Charter Interpreter. This Interpreter was ultimate authority on the Ciston City Charter. His judgments were law as it pertained to the governing the City. When the legality of Cy Borgg's action in unilaterally amending a death sentence was questioned the Interpreter bothered not to consult any documents, a telling sign this move had been anticipated,

"... to aid in the noble quest toward ending the abhorrent practice of slavery Cy Borgg is hereby granted the power of ultimate High Justice. He may at his discretion review and amend any judgments of capital punishment. Further he may personally render such sentencing immediately without trial, review or appeal. Punishment maybe carried out any time or manner at his discretion. These powers are not revocable while the City Charter remains in effect."

The Councilman's response was bitter with disappointment, "So you're saying he is within his rights."

Looking at the Councilman the Interpreter coldly replied, "What I'm saying, sir, is that if a charge involving capital punishment were raised against you, Master Borgg could legally have you executed here and now. As a citizen Master Borgg can, of course, level such charges himself."

Impudence of this sort was not expected from a petty bureaucrat. A threatening step and hand to weapon hilt caused the Interpreter's aide to quickly speak up,

"Please sir, you are new to the workings of Ciston. You don't understand. When Varna left us to our fate, it was utter ruin, chaos, no one and nothing was safe. When Guild members came here it was unlike the crusade aimed at freeing Barstow. These were individuals with their own agendas and goals. After much strife one group finally gained control and brought us order once more. It's said winners write the history, but more importantly they also write the rules. Master Borgg looked at Ciston as it had been and did not try to remake it. He merely used what existed to his advantage. Such methods have their admirers here."

Hardly acknowledging the interruption the Interpreter spoke again, "Councilman if you feel our current government is undemocratic you could petition the elected council to dissolve the current charter and write another. Bribes needed to accomplish that act be a considerable sum, but for a modest fee I can quote an approximate price given a little time. Several of the council's leaders are in financial difficulties. I can procure their votes less than the going rate." At the Councilman's snort of disgust at such blatant corruption the aide chimed in once more, "This is Ciston sir, we have our traditions."

But the Interpreter was not finished. "However, once the charter is revoked the Ciston reverts to martial law. The Commander City Guard and General of the Army would assume joint rule. When they decide it is appropriate our elected officials would assemble to draft a new charter. But I would be remise in my duties if I did not inform you that the General of the Army is Master Borgg and the City Guard Commander is ..." continuing with a half sneer "Master Borgg."

This Interpreter was proving as annoying as Cy. Frustration was beginning to master the Councilman, "Maybe the reform of Ciston could be accomplished in smaller steps? Removal of a Chief Interpreter perhaps?"

This produced rather less reaction than anticipated as the aide explained,

"Good Sir, civil service is newly come to Ciston. Out of chaos governing institutions were put together piecemeal. Capable individuals were hired to perform functions as needed. Most of us do not report to any elected body. We are under personal contract to Master Borgg. The elected Council has no power to dismiss us. And I feel it incumbent to point out any assault upon government official in our situation falls under the definition of treason which is a ..."

By now the Councilman knew what was coming and finished the statement "... capital offense. And as such any accused would fail under the jurisdiction of that bastard Borgg. What if you're merely dispatched here and now with no witnesses?"

The Interpreter took no effort at hiding his disdain, "After last night do you really think your movements are not being accounted for?" The subtle clink of armor from the doorway effectively announced armed guards nearby lurking. "I bid you a good day SIR." With a dismissive wave the Councilman was shown from the office.

It was much the same with every government department. When all the complex web of laws, rules, customs and allegiances involved with running a city such as Ciston were untangled, they led back to one source. One apparently quite adept at quiet manipulations. The lesson in restraint had turned into one of power and the would-be teachers became the pupils.

(Part 4)

The following was posted at Ciston's public places:

(Part 5)

If absolute power corrupts absolutely does absolute powerlessness make you pure?

It was not a noticeably smaller or less sedate gathering when those of Ciston's government met again, after all nothing had really changed save for a few misperceptions being dispelled. In the immediate aftermath of Cy Borgg's decree a commission on government reform was established, calls were made for new elections and no few impassioned oratories on freedom and democracy were given. A few wild whispers of rebellion circulated for a time. However, power is not revealed by striking hard or often, but by striking true. Cy took no further action. The City turned its attention to matters of business. Citizens were drawn back to their private pursuits.

It hardly meant all found the situation tolerable. Lust of power burns more brightly than all the passions combined. The fact the bureaucrats and politicians were still free bespoke how little they could change matters. Once into their cups resistance again stirred amongst the newly powerless. Strategies new and old were examined and reluctantly tossed aside. Discussion eventually faded to mostly a sullen acceptance and colorful expletives. Excessive drink lead the more foolish to murmur about a 'direct' solutions to the problem. That was the signal for two elder statesmen to quietly find a private nook. With rebellion being discussed those on the look-out for dissenters would be distracted, it was time for true plotting to begin.

These were not old friends by any measure, bitterest of rivals for years they had proved the strongest and most capable of Ciston's powerbrokers. Ruthless, with unparalleled expertise their areas and both were clever enough to put aside differences when mutual need necessitated. Augustus Pental, a former officer of rank when Varna held sway over Ciston and later a warlord of considerable power. He was now a major supplier of weapons, mercenaries and war material of all kind. The other merely went by the name of Sivius. His specialty was blackmail though he was rumored to be involved in every lucrative illicit undertaking. A need for brevity lest their absence be noticed, a lack of bodyguards and intense dislike for the other's company lead to very terse exchanges.

Sivius began, "Political options. 'Because I can' accurately summarizes Borgg's position. There is no way to curb or remove his powers under the current City Charter. Revoking the charter gives him dictatorial powers until he decides to relinquish them. He's viewed by the populace as strange, vicious when punishing enemies, but generally beneficent. Reasonable taxes, few constraints and order is maintained. Obey the laws then do as you will. Very difficult to foment popular rebellion."

Augustus shot back, "Military options. Swords are always for rent, but Borgg's pockets are deep. His mercenaries are given fine equipment, pay well above standard scale and the pleasures of Ciston are available at a discount. Monstrously expensive to entice his mercenaries to our side and that doesn't include the others. The militia and slave-hunters squads are self-styled holy crusader, fanatics the lot of them. Borgg cultivates and uses that mystique well. Worst are those Demons slime that serve as irregular troops. None will follow a human and a demonic revenge is not to be lightly dismissed."

Silence momentarily fell as each pondered the others words. Augustus spoke first, "Too dangerous for a direct confrontation. Subtlety is called for."

Sivius nodded, "Agreed. We need leverage. To constrain Borgg we must control what he most desires. What does he want?"

(Part 6)

Augustus could not keep a hint of respect from his voice, "Recent events betray his purpose. Borgg spent long months to the south in Tibbs. Publicly he served the noble cause freeing slaves and recruited for the army. But quietly his Rangers and Shadow Demons have spied out the Amazon lands. But such a campaign has two inherent weaknesses.

First the army must cross lands we do not control before meeting the Amazons. Our supply lines will be long and difficult to defend. Second and worse Ciston's army was not designed for this type of war. Cavalry is ill-suited for combat in confined terrain like the Amazon woodlands. Troop formations will be all but useless. The War Witch ambushes will pick them apart without ever engaging in a major battle. His recent actions are driven by these tactical needs.

That Elf spy, and others, were likely used as bargaining chips. I'd wager the prisoners will be released in exchange for free passage of our forces through surrounding lands and un-harassed supply lines. Borgg is not so stupid to send the army against Amazon capital. Our troops may approach the woodlands. Perhaps burn some of the outlying hexes in hopes of drawing out the enemy. But they'll mainly be a blocking force against any large-scale assaults. It's Varna, or more precisely the Guild fighters, he'll use to wage his war. He seeks to curry their favor by curbing Ciston's evil, hence a general amnesty and destruction of the undead. And if more 'reform' is needed ... you, I and anyone else will be made a scapegoat to pay for his excesses.

Borgg only wants destruction and power. It's all a demon ever wants. We know that."

Sivius nodded but thought carefully of his words before answering, "Your analysis is militarily sound. But, what if he is not the demon we knew? What if he desires something else? What if he wants ... salvation?"

(Part 7)

Silvus had the look of a sleuth, who at long last was seeing random facts coalesce into a complete picture.

"Consider all that has happened. Unmarked Cy lay in bed for weeks enfeebled and in pain. He has always reveled in contests of physical strength, why fake weakness? He has been known to accept virtually any challenge, yet now he will not approach a Safandi under the most innocuous circumstances? When he came before us and revealed the powers he'd so long held secret, what purpose did that serve? And his manner, answering questions as a servant called to an accounting? When did he ever speak plainly or at demand?"

Augustus was hardly impressed, "Easy enough to answer, Greydawn struck him, didn't Borgg say as much? It's obvious the Wizard took umbrage at Borgg's ransoming of Vardell's corpse and sought revenge."

"Yes, Greydawn is powerful and clever, but an assassin, no." Silvus was now talking rapidly, "What if Greydawn found a way to strike against the Demon part of Cy? What if his human part is reasserting itself? Think what else Borgg said the other night. More than once it was 'you are asking the wrong question'. As if he was under a compulsion to answer, was trying to tell us something, but could not volunteer it.

Consider also, his most trusted ally Cormac mac Grymm recently undertook a dangerous mission to the old Night Cult Stronghold on Isurus. Only mac Grymm survived by the grace of his medallion. What not widely known the mission was at the personal behest of Cy and Cormac managed to bring back something. That 'something' was immediately taken by Cy and put under constant guard. It is known Cy Borgg as a young human warrior met his doom in that place only to rise again as he is now. What was brought back?"

Augustus shrugged but was pondering the words more carefully now, "Coincidence, nothing more. These Guild fighters are forever grubbing for treasure."

But Silvus was too taken with his own cleverness to be easily deterred, "Then consider two more coincidences. Safandi's holy week is neigh when her healers' might waxes to full measure. After long absence the one human said to still have a place in Borgg's heart, Vanya of the New Realm, returned to Varna. If he becomes human again THAT is the time to strike. Shorn of his demon might and allies he ..."

A noise cut short further conversation. A serving wench had heard the whispers, knocked politely then came in. "Can I offer you gentlemen anything?" she asked with a saucy little smile and did not in the least seem offended by curt waves of dismissal.

Both Augustus and Silvus immediately regained their feet and made to rejoin the gathering. The serving wench gave a wink and a wiggle then began straightening some of the furniture. It was only when the two had left did her little smile split into a grin far too wide and feral for so pretty a face.