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Thug life in Tsargol

from HDK 18 † Thug life in Tsargol by ZANDAR ZAN

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In Tsargol suburbs wizards and thaumaturges are willing to heal the worst criminals in Lemuria, in exchange for generous amounts of gold. They do it secretly, bypassing every law and breaking the oaths of their membership orders. Gemonius, a magician healer who was expelled for corruption by the priestly order of Patanga, had been working in Tsargol for a few months, trading spells in the shadow. In those days the whole Lemuria was crossed by the tragic news of the disappearance of Thongor, King of Patanga, Sark of the Sarks, the barbarian king in which all disinherited and dissidents placed their hopes of a peacefully and equity future. The most imaginative hypotheses about the destiny of the sovereign were many and causes of anguish and concern in the entire kingdom. In Tsargol however it was different because the law of Sark had never come there and the news had not troubled the local affairs in any way, which were going ahead shady and thriving. Gemonius was born and used to live in Patanga but Thongor's law forced him to flee. He welcomed the news with joy; he relished with pleasure the thesis that the hated Sark had fallen into disgrace and the idea that one day he would be able to return to his beloved native city, leaving behind him the stinking smells of the Tsargol's streets.
However Gemonius's just gained happiness suddenly vanished that night when someone knocked on his door. In his experience as a healer, he had never seen a man in that bad shape coming to him, or rather one who was still able to stand on his legs in that condition full of wounds. Tall, massive, with his face covered and completely wrapped in a mantle soaked with blood, his unexpected visitor had open wounds all over his body and probably many broken bones. Who was him? The wind sent to Gemonius' ears a name he never wanted to hear: Zandar Zan, the Black Thief. Zandar Zan was known as a bloody mercenary, a semi-legendary bandit that few could claim to have met in flesh and bones. The most skeptical humans of Tsargol did not believe he existed either, but many, especially among the pirates, praised him as a symbol, because he hated the established order and declared war on all the kings of Lemuria. Terrifying things were told about him, overstated and improbable stories. People were trembling and fleeing in front of his name, but Gemonius - he did not know how - managed to keep calm. At least until he met the man's eyes closely: bright gray and magnetic eyes that made him jump. The mysterious figure pointed a saber to his chest, without speaking. Gemonius, however, knew what the bandits wanted from him: they just want be healed just enough to continue the getaway from the pursuers.
After a summary examination of the body lying on the table, Gemunius understood that his patient's situation was desperate. "If there is nothing to do, and especially if this man is really Zandar Zan - thought the magician while studying the wounds - the deal is too dangerous". Hosting at home the corpse of a wanted in all over Lemuria for heinous and sacrilegious crimes could only bring troubles. In these cases, when the game was not worth the candle, Gemonius had no hesitation: it was enough to pronounce a healing spell at reverse and solve the problem ... but, perhaps, his voice trembled too much when he recited the feral formula because suddenly he felt a blade at his throat. Another feral voice but made weak by the lost blood, uttered a few words that seemed to come from a chasm carved into his own brain. "Wizard, bastard worm, do not even try. Suture my wounds and it will be easy to forget to have met me. If you make a mistake, you will not even have time to regret it". Then the man lying on the table pointed to a sack in which Gemonius - who did not have the courage to look away from the blade pointed at his throat - glimpsed priceless jewels in the corner of his eye.
Gemonius spent the next minutes in a state of feverish anguish, while with ointments and magic formulas he was trying to suture the horrendous wounds of that man apparently insensitive to pain. The unreal atmosphere was interrupted by a heavy knock on the door of the magician's hiding place. Gemonius winced as if he had suddenly woken up from a deep sleep. That sound was pervasive and echoed unnaturally. "Do not wait for your guests, magician. Go and open the door" the patient hissed in a strange voice, which made Gemonius shiver. The magician remained petrified for a few long seconds, wondering the reason of the request that could be risky for both. The feeling, still alive, of the cold blade on his jugular, pushed him to obey anyway.
Gemonius opened the door cautiously and he saw that... nobody was there. He looked carefully around, but nothing, not a living soul in the alley. Maybe it was the wind, which in that season was blowing violent gusts from the sea, or perhaps one of those red-eyed rats that infest the streets of Tsargol. He decided to go back to the work table to complete the healing but ... his patient had disappeared. The table was empty and covered with patches of dried blood. Gemonius promptly remembered the bag and saw it on the ground where it had been pointed out by the man. When he took out a golden crown with embedded precious stones big like walnuts, he felt his breath fail. You could not go wrong: he had seen that crown with an unusual and peculiar shape so many times on the head of its rightful owner, when it crossed the streets of his hometown. That was the crown of Thongor, Sark of the Sarks, king of Patanga.
While Gemonius clutched the artifact in his hands, he realized that the sun had risen and penetrated the filthy windows of his hiding place. It was already the dawn! But how many hours had passed since he had heard a knock? He had the impression of having completely lost track of time. Then, he felt a touch on his shoulder: behind him the soldiers of the royal guard of Patanga were lined up. Karm Karvus, the prince himself, led the soldiers. He usually didn't want to go back to Tsargol: in that city he had been a slave along with Thongor, forced to fight like a beast in the infamous Arena of Death. Although Karma Karvus suspected that he would find useful clues in that den of gangsters and pirates and tangle of streets with a thousand secrets that was Tsargol, he certainly did not expect to run into a lousy and loyal wizard with the only authentic crown of the Sark. Karm Karvus grabbed Gemonius by the neck and nailed him to the wall. His eyes were filled with contempt and fury: "Worm of a wizard, how do you own that crown? Who gave it to you? Who? "Gemonius dropped the object to the ground. He was ready to feed the name of Zandar Zan to the royal guard - however it could be useless - but something held him back from pronouncing it. A sudden doubt: what if Gemonius had not healed the terrible bandit, but the hated King of Patanga?

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from HDK 18 † Thug life in Tsargol, released April 11, 2019

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Heimat Der Katastrophe Milan, Italy

DIY label focused on ambient punk, minimal-synth, dungeon-drone, wartime music and post-nuclear wave. Managed by a creative punx collective from Milano city.

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