11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 21

On the day specified for the resolution of the (penknife/assassination) case, the Dark Eunuch Egil Viggoaries armed with solid proof that guaranteed a sure win of his litigation, prostrated himself before Zakhertan Yozdek, in a closed Court preliminary hearing. In meticulous detail the ingeniously compiled evidence, against the identified culprits and conspirators, were then one by one painstakingly presented for His Highness' perusal and for his final judgment.

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Zakhertan Yozdek, of course, had already been well apprised of the developments, including the confirmation of certain tampering with the key evidence. Not letting on, he gave the presentation a thoughtful consideration and carefully examined all Egil Viggoaries’s documentation and testimonies. Zakhertan’ momentary ambivalence at the end of it, however, did not escape the eagle eye of his Senior Grand Secretary Qarzten Caimund, who had conducted his own independent inquiries. When His Highness expectedly dismissed all the courtiers including Egil Viggoaries, save for Qarzten Caimund for a private consultation, on cue (nod) the Senior Grand Secretary, armed with his arsenal of facts, advanced his steps boldly to reach the dais.

Qarzten then vociferously enunciated the accrued information with perfect lucidity, without mincing words and left nothing out, spared no one. He starkly (plainly) stated the part Royal Tutor Worren Youkup had played, the complicity of Lady Sejon, the breakdown of just what crimes could accurately be attributed to Royal Physician Enqui Rimeng and prince Herleif, as well, which facts were merely elaborate fabrications. Qarzten listed additionally, the names and means of all those who had perjured themselves and then related how Egil Viggoaries’s manipulative power had a hand in all of this.

Qarzten Caimund could not leave out the matter of the apprehension and eventual death under torture of pseudo-Stuart Chutek who was an affiliate of the Wolfbane Organization; Qarzten was of course, betting on the fact that the Sovereign had already been appraised of all these facts. He was quietly pleased, therefore, noting the lack of Sovereign’s reaction affirming his suspicions.

Qarzten could decipher (accurately read) every bit of the Sovereign’s nuances (hints), the slightest subtleties of his face and body; and so, when Sovereign’s slight shift had told him that Zakhertan was about to question him further about the real Chutak’s whereabouts, presumably another test, Qarzten had cleared his throat and readily volunteered the  succinct results of his thorough investigation, the kidnapping and the supposed presumed demise of the unfortunate Stuart whose only crime had been, which the Stuart was ignorant of, was to be instated as the sole beneficiary of Worren Youkup’ s amassed, comprehensive estate (fortune); Qarzten concluded it by stating the manner of Chutek’s eradication, when the Stuart had proved useless in the end, to the Wolfbane Organization. The matter (of this insignificant Stuart) therefore, as far as the Sovereign Zakhertan was concerned, was promptly dropped (satisfactorily shelved).

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Qarzten Caimund had finally mentioned the (Egil’s issued) untenable arrest warrant for the scholar Tonzeye Yevgun which he had temporarily stymied. At this point he paused, to receive Zakhertan Yozdek’s approval (judgment, appraisal) or further instructions.  

"That's all?" The Sovereign's question unsettled Qarzten Caimund as at the same time an ominous ripple (wave) coursed down his spine.    

"There is more, Your Highness," he coughed to briefly clear his throat, before he resumed with his, not yet fully validated facts, about the complicity of Lord Shouzi Yozdek and the extortion plot involving Nijel Ping. Meeting Zakhertan Yozdek’s hard eyes briefly, Qarzten’s face externally remained placid, an almost inscrutable mask; yet deep in his heart he was terrified, for he had just then realized, how awfully close he had come to, not only losing Zakhertan's confidence, but also risk forfeiting his own life, by withholding, yet to be solidly confirmed (authenticated), information.    

It had been made perfectly clear to Qarzten, by that single glint in Sovereign’s eyes that, Zakhertan Yozdek had already been notified of this and much, much more; and he (Qarzten), yet again, was evaluated. What did it matter that he had, all these years, an impeccable record and steadfast loyalty; every subject of Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek’s lived a precarious existence, with their lives only a hairsbreadth away from the executioner's blade. Fortunately, he had heeded his intuition and once more dodged catastrophe.   

As if surmising his vassal's thoughts, Zakhertan’s lips curled in a disdainful sneer. With a cynical smile on his lips, he leaned back and, with a small gesture of his hand indicated that Qarzten was to proceed.   

Since Qarzten Caimund now felt that the time was ripe, he fearlessly delved in all the way. Asking His Highness' indulgence, he presented the summation (backed by ample documentation to be perused later by the Sovereign) of Minister of Internal Security Egil Viggoaries’s and Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren's sordid, illicit activities. Based on this irrevocable proof, and the amassed evidence against both culprits, he next petitioned the throne for permission to proceed with their simultaneous indictments in the High Court. Finally,(he hoped,) justice could be served swiftly and effectively. Heads removed, the bodies and tentacles of both organizations could then be effectively crushed with the minimal cost and much less bloodshed. At present there was, at Sovereign's disposal, a military force capable of suppressing any uprising in the Capital or elsewhere, as only a small contingent had been dispatched to Korion. If prompt action were to be taken therefore, Wenjenkun's political system could be swiftly purged of these deleterious elements, before the impending confrontation with that troublesome Northern Nation Sazkeroan and its secret ally, Kontu. Qarzten Caimund had assumed that he had done his best to effectively communicate to Zakhertan the urgency of this matter. He had stressed that it was imperative they launched these offensives on both fronts simultaneously and now, or face an inevitable, more arduous course after the impending great wars.    

Zakhertan Yozdek, after having listened to all Qarzten's arguments with due patience and seeming consideration, in the end however, with an unwavering stone face, had once more shook his head, remaining staunchly averse to the urgent recommendations. “The time is not yet ripe.” Had been the only snap explanative given to Qarzten, for His Highnesses adamant refusal.  

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“What am I missing here?” Qarzten inwardly queried, mystified by this negative response (negation).  

   There had to be another, more enigmatic reason for His Highness’s not utilizing this (relatively calm) apt period, which was a prelude to change, the last bastion of lull before the cataclysmic change that loomed on the horizon. On the board game of life, the pieces had taken up their respective positions already. Qarzten Caimund, affixing his gaze on the floor, searched his brain for the allusive reason. It had taken Qarzten only a second or two however, when all at once he had understood Zakhertan’s true reasons. Then with humility he had bowed his head, acceding to his Sovereign’s wishes.   

There was a slight leer on Zakhertan’s lips; after which, Qarzten was directed to, currently say, or do nothing and to guard his records with vigilance until such time they would be required for testimony against the Prime Minister, Egil Viggoaries and Lord Shouzi in court.    

Qarzten was then promptly dismissed.   

   

                                                                            ~   

 

“Could those unconfirmed reports be true?” Qarzten Caimund pondered once more, on the way to his offices.     

“The acuteness of Sovereign’s mind is truly amazing and quite humbling.” Qarzten Caimund shook his head and hissed out a long, exasperated breath. “He’s adroit brain must have conceived…Hah, I don’t know how he does it but he’s always two steps ahead of me, infuriatingly so, in particular with foreign affairs.”       

Eventually, Qarzten’s thoughts had reverted to the most intriguing findings regarding Egil Viggoaries’s parentage, disclosed to him in yesterday evening’s covert report; he had opted to sit on that explosive info however, directing his men instead to dig up further proof till the facts were absolute. Qarzten once more had to remind himself not to get too distracted (sidetracked), conserving his strength instead, for the pending challenges, the tumult (ahead) in not-too-distant future. He had reached his offices with his head laden with such concerns and took no notice of the well armed guards saluting him smartly or, when one on the left promptly reached out and opened the door for him. Once inside the anteroom (subsidiary room), Qarzten Caimund had few words with his assistant, who rushed off at once on an errand.     

Qarzten placed five of the documents on his assistant’s desk then with the remainder secured under left arm, he thoughtfully walked over to the bookcase where which on the second top shelf there were two juxtaposed, unusual small stone statues of no value. The carving however was exceptional. One represented the Moon Deity, a beautiful, demure young woman seated on a rock with a closed book in hand; the other was the representation of the Sun Deity, a fierce warrior with an elaborate spear, standing in readiness to strike.     

Qarzten’s right hand reached out and applied a slight pressure to lower the Moon Deity’s book, ever so slightly, which made the whole bookcase instantly, noiselessly move aside, revealing behind it the secret iron door to an impenetrable vault. Qarzten Caimund opened it with one of the (cluster of) keys he had withdrawn from his hidden belt-pocket and went inside. He walked few paces into the vault and placed the secret documents he was carrying on the third shelf. Once more at the outside, he locked the vault then going over, raised (readjusted) the Moon Deity’s book, which instantaneously (automatically) turned everything back to norm. He then straightened out his attire (making sure there were no creases on it) and then opened the door which led to his primary office. 

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Soon as Qarzten had entered the room, his eyes caught the newly appointed Vice Censor in Chief the noted Lenny Sukzor, who had been impatiently waiting for his return from the royal audience, already on his feet, which he now courteously bowed to Qarzten in greeting. Smiling contritely, Qarzten Caimund solicitously advanced to brightly (happily) greet his new friend Lenny. After offering his profuse apologies for the (unavoidable) delay and relaying his solicitations, the two sat down to the serious business of overseeing series of highly confidential matters.

                                                                             ~    

Following day in closed session of the Imperial Court the charges of the attempted murder of  His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek, as well, the willful murders of the Royal Tutor Worren Youkup , Prince Chucek and Prince Kureing, were formally announced against the now deceased Steward Chutek, the still living though barely alive Royal Physician Enqui Rimeng and, the Crown Prince Herleif Yozdek.      

Their subsequent, three consecutive (sequential) trials again in closed court, very much to the immense satisfaction of Egil Viggoaries had resulted in an expedient, harsh verdicts.     

Enqui Rimeng, upon hearing his sentence had cried out in despair wishing that he had somehow ended his own life (by ingesting poison) or expired during torture, rather than suffer the impending, most ignominious end. Worse still, his actions had doomed entire Rimeng clan to extinction. He was quickly hauled away, sobbing uncontrollably, to suffer his endless days of torment in Hell.  

  

Prince Herleif had not fared any better; for Zakhertan Yozdek had perfunctorily dismissed Prince Herleif's right to appeal, since it was patently pointless and, coldly pronounced Herleif’s sentence: “Proclaimed guilty of all charges levied against him, Prince Herleif from thereon would be stripped of all Royal privileges and rights and demoted to the status of a common criminal (a slave). He wound, furthermore, indefinitely or until further notice, be imprisoned in the worst quarter of the subterranean (palace) dungeons.”

This meant that Herleif would never be allowed to see the daylight ever again, though for the present he was to be kept alive to await a future apt punishment of, Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek’s choosing.     

Lastly, Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek bereft of any other candidate, promptly passed the Royal decree- the formal appointment of Prince Magnian Yozdek, as the now rightful (Crown Prince) heir apparent.   

  

                                                                            ~

 

(END OF SECTION 21)

   

 

11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 2

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 2

   

For some time now, Egil Viggoaries had employed a heartless, homicidal surgeon Lubin, one of only two in the whole Wenjenkun who excelled in the sadistic skill of prolonging the duration of the meted punishment to the maximum the body would stand. The other one Egil could not touch, for he was actively in the employ of Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek.   

01- SURGEON LUBIN

 

There had been few precursors to Lubin, but all four had been abruptly terminated and then discarded by Egil Viggoaries when an unsatisfactory application of the blade had brought about a hasty end to the unfortunate victim. Egil Viggoaries was intolerant of least incompetence; furthermore, he often indulged in tormenting people as it provided him with the highest form of entertainment, and Lubin was his ringmaster.   

Lubin provided Egil Viggoaries with just the right dose of exhilaration to satisfy his perverse appetite for at least one briefer spell, before yet again the insatiable hunger (craving) resurfaced in the Dark Eunuch’s bottomless vile soul. Then the evil savagery and malice would recap (repeat) all over again.  

Zhadol Borym had never once in those abhorred compulsory (obligatory) episodes, where he had born witness to Lubin’s savagery, expected to be the next prey (target). Each time he hardened his heart, being so coerced and therefore believed (was sure), that those faceless phantom brutes, the barely human forms, were well deserving of such penalty. Nevertheless, and this he would never admit to anyone, his misled warrior’s conscience (scruples) and tempered soul still had to be forcefully willed to a distant, way faraway place,  before he could stomach (tolerate) the unfolding scene before his very eyes: Lubin in each case, had wielded the blade skillfully as if skinning a fish, ensuing days and weeks he would then painstakingly (meticulously) cut away, each strip, leaving only a jumbled mass of nerves to collect and transmit black ropes of pain that pulsed through, with fading life; all the while ensuring that the victim did not prematurely expire until the very end of this tortuous ordeal.  

Zhadol at present shuddered involuntarily, as he could not shut out the parade of gruesome images from his mind's eye; mindful of the fact, that Lubin's expert application of the razor-sharp scalpel (surgical knife) would soon be poised on his (Zadol’s) very flesh. He furtively glanced once more at Egil Viggoaries. The Eunuch's face was dark, and his jaw firmly set.  But what had seemed like an eternity to Zhadol Borym had in truth, been only a few minutes.    

“Was this the fate Egil Viggoaries had planned for him all along? No! He could not meekly accept such an ignominious punishment... He must contest this vile verdict! “  

 

Commander Zhadol rising to his feet, menacingly stepped forward but was instantly jerked back, as the chain about his neck was viciously yanked by one of his guards. His steadfast resistance only resulted in the metal biting deeper into his existing wounds. Blood oozed freely out from the corrugated scabs layered atop his blistered flesh. Undeterred Zhadol Borym stayed his ground, looking defiantly up at Egil Viggoaries, his eyes burrowing ferociously into Dark Eunuch’s, he then in resounding voice, loudly challenged him to one-on one personal combat; this was his right, Egil owed him this more befitting a warrior’s end, and that he refused to accept nothing (short) less.    

“Still, no reaction; all right then, he will defy Egil by other means. Pending something better, he   would goad (provoke) the Dark Eunuch using insolent words.”  

 

"You stupid fool!" Egil Viggoaries beat him to the punch however, as he abruptly just then, exploded in a bark. Then rising slowly, he menacingly approached Zhadol Borym until he was only but a hairline away. His right fist clenched, poised to strike. He glowered at his former Commander and then spat contemptuously into his face. "Even now you remain ignorant of your true crime."  He turned and gave a swift, brutal kick to Yennic's head. Stunned, Yennic fell backwards, blood spurting from the deep gash on his scalp. 

Egil Viggoaries’s head snapped back and pressed his face right up against Zhadol Borym's. Gritting his teeth and pointing the accusing finger down at the huddled mass on the floor, Egil Viggoaries spat out the incredible words Zhadol Borym wished he would never live to hear.    

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“You disgust me; for you were played all along; your strings were jerked, like a despicable puppet, by this wretched, insignificant maggot!"  Egil Biggoaries gave a derisive snort and once more violently kicked Yennic Zhiborym hard with the back of his heel just for the sport of it. 

The Dark Eunuch then swung back to Zhadol and rasped, "Your abject weakness sickens (nauseate) me!" Egil with a disdain spat on the ground and haughtily turned his back to his long-time friend Zhadol. His steps thereafter with deliberate slowness mounted the platform, and he returned to his seat.  

Aghast, Zhadol Borym turned his questioning gaze sideways and looked down at Yennic Zhiborym slouched (curled, doubled over) on the ground, then, tilting his head upwards to face Egil Viggoaries, he indignantly demanded, "This is nothing more than a dastardly plot to discredit me. I know it is!  State clearly the crime which I am truly accused of!  Furthermore, I challenge you to muster any proof which would substantiate your implicit (roundabout) claim? False confessions extracted under duress and torture does not count!”   

"Proof," Egil Viggoaries’s thundering bark shook the room.    

"He wants proof." Dark Eunuch addressed the assembly after a derisive laugh.   

 "Proof." Repeating the word third time, at first thoughtfully, then stone faced, Egil Viggoaries reverted his venomous eyes to rest for a time on Yennic Zhiborym, before turning it back again on Zhadol.  

Egil’s face then surprisingly placid (calm); lips formed an eerie, menacing smile. "I had wanted to spare you ignominy (this terrible disgrace, shame), but proof you asked for and proof you shall have."  He shrugged then leaned back and motioned to a guard waiting by the door.   

Zhadol Borym's heart filled with apprehension at that instant with what he might hear. He swallowed dryly; his stomach suddenly tightened into a hard knot; but now it was too late to stop it. The guard had already re-entered leading two members belonging to the “Wraiths” division of Black Molochs. These incorruptible eunuchs, clad in black and wearing face masks to hide their identity, were most proficient at gathering evidence.  They came forward quickly and abruptly halting before Egil

Viggoaries, reverently bowed to him. Such was their status that they were answerable only to the Leader of the Order. From their preamble it turned out that, for some time now, Yennic Zhiborym had been kept under close surveillance.  His every word, action, and habitual need, however insignificant, had been routinely and meticulously documented in the minutest detail. In the interest of brevity, however, Egil Viggoaries ordered them to summarize their findings.   

The spokesperson for the two then recounted the high points, most of which proved extremely embarrassing for Zhadol Borym.  In a very brief time they presented overwhelming evidence, far beyond any possibility of doubt, that Yennic Zhiborym was an informant for the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren’s Office. However distasteful, Yennic's heinous designs, and Zhadol’s unwitting part in them, were all exposed.   

What is more ignominious to Zhadol Borym was that Yennic's inextricable link to the sabotage of one specific case. This assignment had gone terribly awry and had cost the lives of nine Black Molochs 's most competent men, among whom had been Zhadol 's only living relative, a distant cousin.   

At this point Egil Viggoaries lifted his hand and stopped the report. "You want more culpable (chargeable) proof?"   

Zhadol Borym ruefully (repentantly) looked down, "No, I've heard enough."     

He heaved a dejected sigh, now resigned to his fate. He so absolutely (thoroughly) regretted his past foolhardy ways with Yennic Zhiborym.  Zadol’s shame being far too great, he could no longer lift his head to look at his fellow members. More infuriating still, was the way he had been duped by Yennic and utilized to, in betraying the Order.  The love he had once felt for Yennic Zhiborym had suddenly got supplanted with pure, unadulterated odium (abhorrence, loathing).  Fire raged through his limbs now, as he stared belligerently down at this despicable spy.  If his hands were free, he would have violently torn Yennic limb from limb, and then plugging his heart from his cursed chest, just eaten it raw; however, curbing his fury Zhadol with certain resignation uttered, “Then my allotted punishment is too lenient; I deserve far worse for being so inept.”   

The members of the Inner Circle (of Black Molochs) were appalled at first but now disappointment was starkly written on all their faces, as their piercing, harsh gazes silently remonstrated with Zhadol   Borym.  

“You had so utterly failed us, failed the Order.  You deserve this cruelest end!”  

  

03- IRATE BLACK MOLOCK  AFFILIATES

 

Egil Viggoaries nodded and grinned; quite satisfied with the effects of his theatrics.  He’d anticipated that there might have been some of the Inner Circle who, if they had dared at all, would have debated against his decision to terminate Zhadol Borym in that way; one who, with that sleek tongue of his, would have argued that Zhadol was in his prime, just shy of twenty-eight years of age and was as yet a formidable fighter, still an asset to the Order.   

“Now they’re precisely where, I’d wished them to be.”    

Egil Viggoaries had bridled his temper just long enough to reaffirm his otherwise indubitable, absolute judgment. Now no one in the assembly would dare express the least objection (discontentment) with his next, more arduous agenda (plan, course of action).  Zhadol Borym, well, he was only a lateral casualty. It mattered little to Egil that he had used his long-time friend Zhadol heartlessly as sure bait, knowing full well his weakness and habitual response.    

Egil Viggoaries now laughed sourly and gave a slight gesture to the guards with his chin. 

Dispassionately he watched the bloodied backs of Zhadol and Yennic as they were dragged outside, never to be seen again.   

                                                                                        ~   

   

Egil Viggoaries could have arranged for Zhadol Borym to have a less painful way out; certain drugs which numbed the senses instead of Lubin's usual medicines which enhanced the suffering.  

“Why should I? No,”    

Despite what Zhadol had once meant to him, how much he had done for him. Despite all the daunting images from the past, Egil Viggoaries remained firm in his resolve. He could not allow his hardened heart to dispense least charity; he could not weaken his doggedness (determination) nor feel least compassion for his once intimate companion.  Zhadol Borym meant less than nothing to him now, especially since he had been growing too arrogant of late. At least now he was rid of Zhadol's irksome and sanctimonious presence once and for all, before the so-called friend became more of a problem.   

Egil closed his eyes, quite angry with himself for this sudden, unexpected twinge of conscience. Why was he now second guessing his earlier resolve; had it been Zhadol’s last look that brought this unexpected rush of feelings he had thought long erased (dismissed)? Zhadol Borym was pegged (marked) to be terminated, and that was that!   

Vindictiveness, in Black Molochs ... he was above such ignoble emotions. Egil Viggoaries lied to himself, only to have another thought gnaw at him unexpectedly.   

True enough, if Zhadol had wanted to, he could have made good for his escape, reinforcements, or no reinforcements. Of course, he would have inevitably been hunted down and apprehended, but not before he cost the Order (organization) a dire toll in both manpower (loss of men) and resources. With his competence, it was inconceivable to think that Zhadol, one day, be so gulled, so completely taken in by the likes of Yennic Zhiborym. And why had he surrendered so easily?    

He had deep affections for Yennic…Was that it? Had that fool allowed his capture solely to appeal to the other’s case or die with him?  If that was his reason, then he certainly deserved his ignominious end. He deserved to perish, if for no other (reason) bases than that most contemptable, of weakness. Egil Viggoaries inwardly scoffed, overlooking the fact that he’d so many years been the recipient of that very akin sentiment; those tender, affectionate means and deeds that had filled in the void and warmed the otherwise cold, unfeeling crux of his being. Again, he lied to himself, entertaining the thought that, fortunately, he was above all that.  He had no use presently, for such a base, useless emotion, at all.     

Egil Viggoaries again hard-heartedly shrugged and turned his thoughts to another.  In the next week or two he will be initiating his recent recruit, Yuchemos Mantus, into the ranks of the Inner Circle.

04-YUCHEMOS MANTUS

 Yuchemos Mantus, showed real promise, and what is more, he had already subtly ingratiated himself into the good graces of both Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek and Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren.  Egil Viggoaries smirked, reflecting on the fact Yuchemos was the sole male offspring of, Demarco Mantus, head of the most influential family in Channing; hence, strategically placed, he would be most beneficial in fulfilling his (Egil Viggoaries’s) ultimate ambition.   

                                                                                           ~   

In the dark subterranean dungeons below, where the air was permanently rancid, and lichen (moss, fungus and mold) grew on the moist stone walls, Zhadol Borym that night had endured without a whimper the first measure of his punishment, and he had braced himself for the worst torment yet to ensue during the small hours of the same night. The surgeon had left his sight temporarily for repast, with his ghastly, lurid grin and a vicious promise to return and resume later with his special application, one specifically designed for Zhadol, whom he would administer, with definite zeal.    

No one, certainly not Zhadol Borym, had ever hoped or anticipated, the stray element (conduit), the mercifully unexpected reprieve from his ignominious end; this, by another powerful faction, the covert brotherhood of Kozurs, that dared to execute the impossible feat (brazen exploit, stunt).  

Nevertheless, this daring rescue had compounded ramifications; consequently, Egil Viggoaries would never cease (stop) his relentless hunt. Therefore, Zhadol’s Borym’s demise had to be staged so expertly that it would not warrant the Dark Eunuch’s least suspicion.    

In the aftermath of devastating explosions and the resulting seismic tremors, that had rocked the subterranean dungeons in the core capital Channing – that of which had completely obliterated (decimated) the cell which Zhadol Borym had been shackled to on the table, as well,  destroyed the perimeter (vicinity) cells around and above, all of it buried in ashen rubble- it its wake it had created a deep cavernous (yawning, gaping) sinkhole.

Unavoidably, many prisoners and captives’ lives (those in surrounding dungeons) had also (been lost) expired due to the devastating impact of the explosion. Though this could be deemed more an act of clemency to those already lost souls, awaiting interminable (unending) mortifying tortures.   

This breach, naturally instigated (provoked) serious inquiry (examination) by all major factions, including Sovereign Zakhertan’s Black Band Guard (and the shadow Brigade); however, the results (conclusions) all pinpointed to a catastrophic yet bizarre accident, indubitably a fortuity/a fluke happenstance, by a carelessly positioned volatile element which had beget that catastrophic blasts. 

Even subsequent month’s ardent investigations, by the persistent few, still failed to prove otherwise, failed to expose this expertly conceived strike... The details of which had been covertly finalized during the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren’s party given in honor of Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald. During the time, which Nevetsecnuac had sought refuge and by capricious fate, had chanced on Zaur Stugr and Lenny Sukzor, that memorable night, in the secluded part of the garden.    

Zhadol Borym’s close friends and affiliates were of course stealthily (privately) elated at this outcome, the quick and more humane (lenient) demise of a well esteemed, brave Commander Zhadol, deeming it a mercy of Heaven; for in truth Zhadol was well liked and, he had a quality about him that fostered (beget) intrinsic and lasting loyalty (comradery and devotion) among his men.   

 The Dark Eunuch’s fury, meanwhile, had still demanded blood and so, during ensuing days besides the copious wretched prisoners, many hapless prison-guards that had been on duty that night, and had the misfortune to survive the blasts, had paid for their incompetence (ineptness) and the resulting breach, of the deemed impenetrable prison.    

Eventually things had died down, especially after the ongoing excavations, had produced (unearthed

(dug up, retrieved) several small pieces (fragments) of Zhadol Boerym’s supposed charred remains (corpse) with irrefutable, identifiable markers. These (presented in a box) brought before the still incensed Egil Viggoaries, had finally alleviated (eased) his suspicious and demanding nature.    

                                                                             ~   

(END OF SECTION 2)