Into the Heart of Evil by Joel Babbitt Page A

from the excruciating pain. 
    After a couple of seconds of smelling burning
flesh and seeing smoke, Lord Karthan removed the branding iron and Durik could
breathe again.  Looking down, and almost staggering in the process, Durik saw
the small symbol of an eye atop a tower – the mark of the leader caste – burned
into his left breast.
    After looking Durik in the eye for a second, as if
to gauge his strength, Lord Karthan nodded to the leader of the Metal Smithies
who would follow him, then turned and returned the hot iron to the red coals in
the brazier and walked back up the stairs to his throne.
    Walking up to take Lord Karthan’s place, the
leader of the Metal Smithies Warrior Group stepped forward and pulled both the
second and the third branding irons from the fire and turned to face Gorgon
Hammer.  Grabbing him quickly, he pressed the first branding iron to Gorgon’s
left breast and pulled it away, leaving a deep welter in the shape of the sword
of the Warrior Caste Mark emblazoned in the rust-red scales of his chest. 
Gorgon looked at him with absolutely no emotion in his eyes: cold, calm, and
completely unaffected. 
    Switching to the other iron, the leader of the
Metal Smithies carefully placed the red-hot form of the banner over the sword
mark and held it.  After a few seconds of watching the smoke curl up from
Gorgon’s chest, the leader caste pulled the branding iron free of the seared
flesh and, after checking the new Elite Warrior Caste Marking on Gorgon’s
chest, held Gorgon’s gaze for a second and nodded in approval.  He turned
quickly and returned the branding irons to the coals.  Gorgon looked steadily
to the front, not even glancing down at the small, new wound in the shape of a
sword on a standard that now adorned his chest.
    One by one, the leader caste in charge of the
various warrior groups came forward and branded the warriors from their warrior
groups with the sword mark of the Warrior Caste.  To their credit, one and all
of them held their peace.  Though some of them gave the impression they might
fall over from the intense pain, and Jerrig’s eyes even began to roll, in the
end all of them held strong enough. 
    As the last warrior group leader returned to his
seat at the table to Lord Karthan’s left, Lord Karthan nodded his approval.  This
was perhaps the first year that no one had cried out with the touch of the hot
iron.  Truly, this was an exceptional group of kobolds.  He was surer now than
he had been before that his judgment on whether this group could handle this
quest had been correct.
    Lord Karthan stood and addressed the line of
kobolds in front of him.  “Warriors,” he started, addressing the five kobolds
on the right side of the line, “today you take your places as protectors of the
gen.  May your swords be ever bright in our defense.”
    Turning his view to Gorgon, he continued, “Elite
Warrior, know this.  Your mark is not only a rank of proficiency with arms and
effectiveness in battle, it is a mark of responsibility.  This day, you become
a leader among your peers.  Whether they live or die is much dependent on the
decisions you make from this day forward.  On your shoulders lies the
responsibility for their growth and discipline.  May you uphold the standards
you have learned at the hand of the Master Trainer this past year, and by your
sword shape the destiny of this gen.”
    Finally, turning his head to look down at Durik,
Lord Karthan paused for a moment before speaking.  “Young Durik, on your
shoulders I place both the responsibilities of this great mission and these
warriors.  To execute this quest, I give you all power over your contingent. 
Be it known that from this day forward, until your quest is ended, you are
fully responsible for the warriors I place under your command.  I make you
judge, jury, and if need be, executioner.  On your word, they shall live or
die.  All that they have and everything they will get will come from