The Maw of Orcus

Daybreak

Outskirts of Hyrkan

A new day dawned on the shores of Nuceria, and the golden rays of the coast poured over the ruined and bloodstained city of Hyrkan.

Outside the city, the vanguard of the Nucerian 5th Legion approached Hyrkan cautiously. The legion, nicknamed the Golden Army for their golden livery and armor, was tasked by Emperor Marsus Acraesius to track down and eliminate the rebel slave threat before it escalated beyond their control. Led by General Sargon Coriolanus, the 5th Legion arrived at the coast after word reached them from the capital that Angronius and his dogs were headed for open sea.

Upon seeing the state of the coastland metropolis, Coriolanus immediately realized they were already too late. Angronius was gone, and he left them a red gift not long after his departure.

In a single night, the once vibrant heart of the coast lay dormant. The voices of mirth that once sang sweetly in days gone by now wailed sorrowfully, filling the air with their mournful cries and lamenting over the thousands who died by the hands of their own slaves. Those who survived the uprising began the grim work of moving the corpses of their kinsmen to clear the streets.

So brutal was the atrocity that the Nucerians literally walked ankle-deep in the blood of the fallen.

Coriolanus emerged from his personal speeder and traveled through the ruins on foot. He passed by the huddled forms of mourning locals, the flesh mounds where the fly hordes started gathering to, and the burning houses where whole families still lay butchered like cattle. The general had been to the front, just as their newly crowned emperor had, and he'd seen his share of violence as the next man of the legion.

But seeing it happen there, on his own country's soil, it filled his heart with rage.

A man sat on the wall facing the harbor, muttering to himself all the while as he stared into the open sea. Coriolanus approached him, and realized it was the city's champion Ohn, who fought in the Reksian games some months before. Surprised to find him alive among the few who survived the assault on Hyrkan, the general decided to talk to him so he could get a clearer perspective on the matter at hand.

"Champion." Coriolanus greeted, "I am relieved to see that you live."

Ohn ignored him and kept muttering, "I shouldn't have helped him... Gods, I shouldn't have helped him."

"Champion?" The general stood beside him, and only then did Ohn acknowledge his presence, if only to lament the fact that he aided somewhat in Angronius' attack on his city. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't you see? I did this, to my own people!" The champion threw his hands out to the corpses of his kinsmen, "Aided the monster in the name of honor, and I was rewarded with this!"

Coriolanus resisted the urge to act on impulse and have the traitor punished for helping the fugitives, he already condemned himself with his confession. But he needed to hear the whole story, he could have Ohn clapped in irons later, "Slow down. Start from the beginning."

Ohn did as he was told, slowed down then told the whole story. He spoke of how he met Angronius in the alleys of the city, how he provided him with a physician to treat a woman who was close to the gladiator, and how he became the herald of death when the horde finally descended upon Hyrkan. Hearing the part about the woman, Coriolanus asked Ohn if he knew who she was.

It was there that the name Polgara Thal'kyr came up, and the general made a note of looking her up later after he determined where the horde was heading next.

Close to the harbor sat the wrecks of three heavy cruisers, all of which the slave horde managed to sink the other night. Oil and corpses littered the surf and slapped against the aged stones of the quay, while great fires still burned on the ship bows sticking out of the sea like little islands. Coriolanus received word that four frigates were in pursuit of the hijacked cruisers after they were told to return from their maneuvers out in open sea.

Where they were headed at the moment, no one could give him a straight answer.

"Champion, I'll need you to come with these men." Coriolanus told Ohn, referring to the squad of legionnaires standing at the ready behind him. "And I want you to come quietly."

The general got up on the wall and assumed the stance held by the champion in an attempt to wrap his head around how a mere gladiator managed to lead a ragtag horde of starving slaves to victory over the Imperial Fleet.

Angronius of House Thal'kyr, he was called, The Lord of the Red Sands.

Coriolanus never saw him in the arena. In fact, he never set foot in any of the coliseums of the Old Republic. The general was of the rare opinion that playing at battle was a waste of time, a patrician's attempt to make a game of the sordid affairs of war which plebeians like him fought and bled for. Still, he heard stories of the legendary gladiator who defied his masters time and time again.

But as much of a legend as he had become, this Angronius was still a rebel that needed to be put down. There were other servile rebellions in the past, and every one of them had a legend leading it. Every time, it was the duty of a Nucerian general to lead the republic's armies to crush the rebellion. This time, it was Coriolanus' turn.

The general put his hands on his hips and sighed, "Alright, you rabid dog. Where are you headed?"

Somewhere In Open Sea

Lightning cut a horrid gash through the skies, heralding the deafening peal of thunder rolling across the dark and angry clouds. A heavy downpour blanketed the seas, obscuring anything within twenty yards of the ships while waves hundreds of feet high rose up and fell upon the three cruisers making a slow headway through the Sodian.

But even through the storm, there was cause for singing and dancing. Three thousand liberated slaves were on a mass exodus towards freedom, on the very vessels that once stood as the instruments of their captivity. Three thousand souls, all singing and praising the name of their savior- Angronius. The Stygians, especially, raised their stolen wine bottles to honor him for his deeds.

"Let it be known this day, by gods and men, I embrace Angronius as my blood-brother!" Ionos bellowed, clutching a former body-slave woman tightly to himself in one hand and a bottle of fine rum in the other. "May he live to see a hundred years, gray of hair but virile as a bull! May your sword-arm never weaken, nor your love grow cold! And may your children be as many as the sands of the desert!"

Angronius smirked, receiving the praise from the mouths of strangers as he would with the gladiators who grew and trained with him in the ludus gladiatorius of House Thal'kyr.

The freed slaves returned to singing, drinking and gorging themselves on the supplies found in the holds of the Imperial cruisers. When they were full and slow from the wine and food, they huddled together in the cabins to rest their weary bones from a long day. With the celebrations over, Angronius turned his attention to overseeing the proper piloting of the ship itself.

With the crew slaughtered from the battle at Hyrkan Harbor, he was left with only a bunch of willing but unskilled slaves playing at sailors. Throughout the journey, all the gladiator king could do was read the pilfered manuals found in the captain's cabin where he stayed with Polgara, and through that knowledge began to steer them towards a proper direction- towards the Freelands which lay thousands of miles away. However, he had no idea how far they've gone adrift since they've been caught in the storm so he couldn't know for certain how much further away from their destination they've gone.

In the following days, the job of relaying instructions to the other two cruisers, bringing thousands of slaves safely across the ocean to freedom. The burden of the responsibility weighed heavily on him, and it bothered Angronius greatly.

Only Polgara knew of his doubts, for he never confided in anyone else lest they begin to doubt in their mission as well.

Polgara, his brave desert flower, proved to be more than just a soft little noblewoman in the province. She covered the pain of her own wounded heart, just so she could be strong for him. When he returned to their cabin to rest until he was needed again, she was always there to give him warmth just as he did for her when her veins ran hot with the venom of Meslim's snake.

And now, all she wanted to run hot in her veins was her desire for him.

Angronius was all too happy to oblige. They've both gone for too long without each other's touch, and neither knew if it was going to be the last time they'd get to see each other. In the rare moments they were able to share a bed and spend the night together, the two made love as though it was their last night among the living. Many freedmen did the same, mostly to numb the pain of their past if not to forget the looming threat of death that came with a blind voyage through the Maw of Orcus.

Just for a few hours, forgetting meant all the world to them.

On one particularly heavy storm-filled night, Polgara stirred in her side of the bed to see her lover lying awake against the headboard. Through the dim light of the flickering lamp, she could see the creases of worry on his face as he stared at the shadows dancing around the cabin room. His chest rose and fell, like the waves that slapped around in the sea surrounding the ship.

Polgara slid closer to place herself on his belly, "Angronius, why are you not asleep?"

Angronius didn't answer right away, but he took the time to admire the beautiful minx draped over his body. Here was the woman who, through thick and thin, stood by him even as her whole world came crashing down on her. Though humbled by the tragedy of the Praxican Atrocity, Polgara remained strong. She was unbroken, just like him. The fact that through all the suffering Acraesius heaped upon her for spurning him, and still she held true to him, it made Angronius love her even more.

Her fingers lithely danced across his face, then around the top of his head to touch the stubs where the Nails used to have their coils stick out of.

"I wonder what thoughts run through that head of yours." Polgara said, smiling. "What mad schemes form in the mind of the great Angronius?"

"Why, I think of you." Angronius took her hand and brought it to his lips.

"Only me?"

"Well, you and a thousand other souls on this voyage through the sea."

"It must be difficult." Polgara drew a line from his neck to sternum, then started to draw lazy patterns on his chest. "Having so many people look to you for leadership."

"It is, but you help make it easier." Angronius said, combing his fingers through her hair as he marveled at how soft it felt in his hands. "You give this raging beast his moments of clarity, and make a man out of him."

"You flatter and you lie." Polgara dismissed his words, "But lies are sweet, so tell me your sweet little lies."

"I speak only truths." The gladiator king seized her by the shoulders and pulled the woman up so he could kiss her cheek. "If I lost you, I would never dream of playing the sailor and sailing through this cursed ocean."

"Oh? And what would you have done if I died?"

"I would burn the world if you were taken from it. Then I would trespass into the realm of the gods, wherever they may be, and find you among the sea of souls. If I cannot live with you by my side, I will gladly be with you in death."

Polgara blushed and looked away shyly, "A damaged flower such as I does not deserve such devotion."

"Damaged, she says." Angronius' hand slid down her back and squeezed her rump, making Polgara gasp in shock. Flustered, she slapped him on the chest with an embarrassed giggle. "You remain whole, my desert flower. Much much whole."

His touch rekindled the flames of passion in her heart, and Polgara prepared herself for another illicit romp in the bedroom with her lover. This time, she wanted to be the one on top. Pushing Angronius against the headboard, the woman straddled his waist and sat as though she were mounting a horse. That way, she could control the pace.

And by extension, she could control him.

"I've wondered why they call this part of the ocean as the Maw of Orcus." Angronius murmured as he leaned forward to kiss Polgara on the shoulder.

"The people of Hyrkan say it's monster-infested waters." Polgara sighed dreamily, "But those are just stories, nothing to concern yourself with."

Suddenly, an alarmed voice thundered through the corridors outside their cabin, interrupting what could've been a pleasant evening for the two. "Angronius! You're needed at the bridge!"

Groaning in frustration, Polgara slid away from the gladiator king as he reluctantly pushed her off of him. Quickly, he dressed himself and set out to meet the hastily-trained makeshift crew he left to pilot the ship in his absence. So far, they were doing a good job without him, but it was clear that at some instances they needed him to lead them every step of the way.

"What is it? What's happening?" Angronius asked as he entered the bridge. All around him stood confused freedmen bent over instruments and blinking consoles, at a loss of what to do next now that they've encountered the latest obstacle in their voyage.

"It's not what's happening to our ship, but what's happening to the others." Ionos said, pointing to the other cruisers lagging behind them. "Look!"

Angronius peered through the windows of the bridge, and through them he saw the impossible silhouette of gigantic tentacles rising out of the waves to wrap around one of the cruisers. The gladiator king couldn't believe what he was seeing, for just a few minutes ago he and Polgara were just talking about the meaning behind the ominous name of the ocean.

He didn't think they would drift that far off course, but it was clear that they've been driven too far into the ocean- the very part from which coastal cautionary tales stemmed from.

They were right in the middle of the Maw of Orcus, and now stood as witnesses to the unseen horrors lurking beneath the waves of the ocean.

"Lucretia's in there!" Angronius gasped, realizing that unless the cruiser was freed from the monster attack, it would surely end up in the ocean floor with all its passengers as food for whatever monster lived there. "Get some of your strongest men and follow me! We have to do something before it's too late!"

Moving quickly, Angronius and the other freedmen manned their stations at the cruiser artillery guns. The same weapons that were used against them at the harbor in Hyrkan would be the instrument of the tentacled foe's destruction. Through the pouring rain and the dangerous heave of the ship beneath them, the men loaded and fired the massive guns upon the disgusting thing.

Through the dizzying haze, Angronius could see his gladiator brethren hacking at the tentacles from the top deck. When the shells finally hit, they burst the tendrils apart, leaving the cruiser free to resume its journey forward.

Cheering loudly amidst the howling winds, the freedmen celebrated their victory over the beast prematurely. As though recognizing the threat posed by the ship who fired first, the monsters of the deep turned their attention to the vessel under Angronius' command.

As it did with Lucretia's ship, the tentacled beast latched onto the cruiser and slowed its advance for the smaller creatures to prey upon. Little mermen, abominations of the deep that vaguely resembled men, hoisted themselves up to the upper decks by the hundreds to destroy the guns first before falling upon the meat-sacks manning them. Little did they know that no mere man led the freedmen of the cruiser.

Angronius was king of the freedmen, and he didn't like uninvited guests.

The roar of his chain-axes drowned out the gurgling noise of the approaching mermen horde, and the roar coming from his own mouth drowned out the storm's baleful call. They'd come too far to be laid low by a bunch of underwater horrors, and the freedmen would rather fight than become food for the fishes. If the mermen came for blood, they would soon drown in their own.

So, yet again, the former slaves did battle.

Again and again, the horde of mermen came to overwhelm the land-dwellers. Every time, Angronius led the defense and drove them back to the depths from which they came. They fed the Maw of Orcus with the bodies of its own children, defying whatever elder god lay beneath the waves with each spiteful hack. When the mermen assault proved inadequate, the tentacled creature decided to take the cruiser down with it to the depths, and it wrapped its tendrils tightly around the cruiser to crush it into pieces.

Knowing that they very well couldn't bring any guns to bear on the creature, nor signal for help from any of the two cruisers with them, Angronius felt another mad scheme form in the back of his mind. The cruiser groaned as the massive tentacles began to tear it apart, and it wouldn't take long before the breaches widened to let the ocean drown everyone in its cold embrace. The gladiator king made his decision to save what he could, and give the freedmen a chance to make it through the waters towards freedom.

"Ionos!" He called for his blood-brother, "To me!"

"What will you have me do, brother?" The Stygian asked.

Seizing a length of chain used as lifelines for divers, Angronius attached the hook securely to a harness and slipped it over his shoulders. "This beast will not relent, it requires correction. I will have you and every able-bodied man to stand ready to haul me back onboard once I've dealt with it. Are you up to the task?"

"Your lack of faith offends me, brother." Ionos grinned, "Of course we're up to the task!"

With Gorefather and Gorechild firmly grasped in either hand, Angronius plunged facefirst into the ocean depths. There, beneath the waves that battered against the cruiser, the monstrous tentacled fiend revealed itself through the blinding flash of the arcing lightning above.

To his mounting horror, Angronius realized that the tentacles were only a part of the greater thing that lurked in the darkness of the Maw. Each tentacled fiend latching themselves on to the cruisers were but the giant feelers connected to a single gargantuan being. A leviathan, a nameless abomination that defied any logical thought.

The thing was not born of natural means. Whatever it was, it was spawned from the blackest dimensions of reality and somehow was spat into the waters of Nuceria. Perhaps, its creator was so appalled by its apparent misformation that it was simply cast away to drown in the ocean.

But likened unto any creature with the spark of determination, it did not die. It fed, it grew and it survived.

They didn't name the ocean as the Maw of Orcus. This thing was the Maw of Orcus!

Angronius kept his breath secure and swam closer to the leviathan. Though terrified, the gladiator king held within him the fates of all the men and women onboard the three cruisers above. He couldn't let fear stop him, and so he pressed onwards as he always did. Gorefather and Gorechild gave voice to their support, bristling and roaring in spite of the weight of the waters around them.

The Maw, sensing danger from above, turned its head to fully face Angronius. It revealed its abhorrent visage, a taunting resemblance of a snarling man with four massive maroon mandibles heralding its gigantic maw, which sported daunting rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth. When it opened its mouth to swallow Angronius whole, the gladiator king saw a faint glow shine from within the pit of the beast's belly as he peered down its throat.

Mesmerized, Angronius saw a vision of the stars through the otherworldly glow. He saw things among the stars that made him feel so insignificant, so little of worth, no more than a grain of sand in the grand design of the vast universe around him.

The hypnotizing glow stunned him momentarily, for Angronius' will was not like that of mortal men. He broke free from the creature's control, and past the glow he could see the thousand floating corpses swirling in a whirlpool within the leviathan's jaws. They were men who thought to slay the beast in the same manner as he planned to do. Their broken lifelines, floating beside them, served as testament to their failures.

The dead men taunted him from beyond their watery graves, telling him that this would be his fate as well.

Angered by the prospect of failing, and once again goaded by the Butcher's Nails to hurl himself forward, Angronius released his pent up breath and swam with all his godlike strength towards the leviathan's mouth. Obliging his wish, the Maw closed its jaws over him and broke the lifeline, sealing him within the tomb of its belly as it did with countless others.

It proved to be its first and last mistake.

Seized by an excruciating pain burning within the pit of its stomach, the leviathan squirmed and contorted within the depths of the ocean. In its hubris, the creature allowed the most dangerous fiend to walk the face of Nuceria into the most vulnerable part of its body. The belly of the beast possessed neither talon nor fang to protect itself from attacks from within.

No scaly hide to ward off the biting teeth of Gorefather or Gorechild, only soft flesh.

On the decks of the three cruisers, the freedmen bore witness to the leviathan's unsightly form bursting out of the waters like a child taking its first breath from the womb of its mother. In this case, it took its last. With an ear-splitting howl, it screamed in agony as the gladiator king ripped and tore his way out of its body. Angronius cut himself free from bowels to crown, rising up from the gaping wound in the leviathan's head still soaked in the blood of the monster.

The sky gave its thunderous applause, showering Angronius in white light as lightning danced around him. The sight of him overwhelmed all who laid eyes upon him, and they knelt wherever they stood to pay homage to the godlike being who slew the titan of the depths.

Then, as though recognizing the slayer's rite to passage, the storm relented and the ocean grew calm. No longer did the waves batter and toss the cruisers about, nor did the rains pour their torrential showers.

A gentle drizzle washed clean the bloodied and triumphant figure, as if to crown him the new heir to the empty throne left by the Maw.

Now dead, the leviathan slipped back into cold embrace of its mother, the ocean. Angronius leapt from its corpse and swam back to his ship, ascending to its main deck to be greeted with the revering crowd of freedmen. Everyone prostrated themselves before his feet, feeling unworthy to meet his gaze as they knew a god walked among them.

Even Polgara, who knew him more than anyone else, fell to her knees as he approached. Mars did not intervene when her family was slaughtered, nor did Lilith. Vulcan, Dolos, Orcus, Augustus and Augusta, not even Diana. Angronius was the one who saved her life, and yet again saved them all by slaying the beast. She took his hand and kissed it, acknowledging that if any god existed in the world- it would be him.

Angronius set aside his weapons and hoisted his woman to her feet. With a firm voice, he bid the others rise, saying. "I know not if I am truly a god, but I know this. I am Angronius, and I have set you free so that you will never again kneel before another man. If you wish to pay me homage, I will have you stand!"

And so they stood, once again swearing fealty to the man who broke their chains.

Angronius didn't stay to receive their accolades, for he was tired and all he wanted was to be with Polgara. Returning to the relative peace of their cabin, he rested his head on her lap and fell into a deep sleep, listening to the sweet song hummed from his lover's lips and lulled by the tender touch of her hand on his furrowed brow.