“Ahhhhhhhh, Malacoda, come in, join me.” Ghaelvord said.

He sat at the head of a hundred-foot long table in the great hall. His minions had worked hard to build this jungle fortress. Ghaelvord took care to build his enclave in the utmost secrecy. Tall trees overhung every square inch of the building so that no satellite could pick up on their compound. They carried on their dark work in dim light with many torches. Ghaelvord had picked a spot for the fortress on the edge of the rainforest in a sparsely inhabited section of the Congo.

No one noticed when nomadic jungle tribesmen went missing. Ghaelvord poisoned them with forbidden tinctures. He let them breathe the mind-altering smoke of his kebaac. He slowly amassed an army of yzorak-al’ghul. Deprived of all higher functions of the mind, these undead drudges lived only to work for Ghaelvord. On the far end of the table a group of twenty emaciated skeletal revenants of men sat. Their jaws hung slack. Drool oozed from their jowls. Occasionally, Ghaelvord threw scraps of meat across the table and they squabbled over it.

“Malacoda, I grow weary of this hot, humid hellhole. Can you really not find anyone taller than five feet?”

“The natives are what they are, Commander. I could venture into the cities…”

“No. Let us keep our operations quiet for now. Just keep bringing them in. We will continue to build our numbers. There is, of course, strength in numbers, as they say.”

Ghaelvord lifted a tube to his lips, breathed deep, and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. A large hookah-like device sat on the table in front of him.

“The satellite dish works well, for bringing me this ‘internet,’ but I need more information. I am going to need books. I need to know what this mortal civilization can do. Find me works from humans like Richard Feynman or Werner Heisenberg, and anyone else who might clue me in to mankind’s stage of development. Do not limit your search. Get me anything and everything that you can. I want a broad scope of material to work with.”

“I’ll have to venture out much farther to find anything.” Malacoda said.

“Go as far as South Africa.” Ghaelvord replied.

“What about the prisoners?” Malacoda asked.

“They’ll all be yzorak-al’ghul by the time you return. Our blacksmith’s skills have improved, by the way. We have armor and weapons for about half of the army. We have set up a trip hammer, as well. That should speed up the process. We need more iron ore though. We need much more. We may have to venture outside of the jungle for it. I have a plan, but it needs finesse. I will tell you more when you return.”

Malacoda nodded and looked down the table at the drudges. He scowled at them and they cringed.

“Your project with the girl seems to have been immensely successful.” Malacoda said.

“Indeed, she did take to it. I think that she will do just fine.” Ghaelvord said.

“How did you know she could withstand the strain? She still has her independence, you know.” Malacoda asked.

“I could see steel in her eyes. I saw her defiant look. I saw the way she stoically bore the pain in her leg. In the labyrinth, I walked closer to her. As I approached I could smell fear, but not from her. She made eye contact and as I gazed into her eyes I felt her willpower fighting me. I said to myself, ‘there is something special about this one.’ She will not let me control her. I had to have her.” He shrugged, “What can I say? I am a true romantic at heart.”

“She could be dangerous.” Malacoda warned. “Without the drugs, you will not be able to control her.”

“Variety is the spice of life, Malacoda. Where would we be without the mystery of the unknown?” Gaelvord replied.

Malacoda breathed in the smoke. It made him begin to daydream. He saw Ghaelvord storming the deck of a ship. Hoards of yzorak-al’ghul cascaded up the gangways into the ship’s belly. Then, they emerged onto the deck. The unsuspecting sailors were taken by surprise, but they were well-armed. They opened fire on the yzorak, dropping them like flies. The sheer numbers, however, overwhelmed the ship. Then, Malacoda realized that he had breathed in too much of Ghaelvord’s smoke. He had seen Ghaelvord’s thoughts. He shook his head and forced the images out.

“I cannot sit with you while you smoke. Not with your infernal kebaac.” Said Malacoda.

Ghaelvord laughed. “I can show you my plans, rather than go through the great ordeal of explaining them.”

“Do not play your mind games with me. I am off.” With that, Malacoda got up and left.

Ghaelvord called after him, “What Malacoda? Do you not trust me?”

Before walking out the door Malacoda turned his head and called out, “I trust you to win, Commander. I trust you with that.”