Chapter 890 - Still Ⅱ (2/2)
Voldemort is pleased at Gibbons actions and demonstrates his approval with a simple nod. ”Dolohov-.”
”What?” Dolohov snapped annoyed at being called upon yet again.
”Patience is a virtue, Dolohov,” Voldemort coolly warned, but maintained his calm demeanor that would have been unfathomable once in the face of such a remark. Dolohov appears mutinous, but he does not retort again and instead loudly washes down the remnant of his firewhiskey.
”With the giant's forces appropriately thinned out, I require you to keep a close eye on Wurfbog, Dolohov,” Voldemort clearly instructed. ”I do not wish for Wurfbog to be slain, but you may upon occasion slay any giant that crosses your path.”
A wide predatory grin spreads across Dolohov's face. The tougher the prey, the better the hunt. ”I would be honored to fulfill the order, Dark Lord,” he earnestly said. His prey, Wurfbog was at present wounded and grieving for the loss of his mate, Iwara. It was the perfect time to humble the half-breed and put him in his proper place.
Rising to his feet, Dolohov carelessly tosses the glass over his shoulder. The glass shatters loudly on the floor causing Gibbons to rub his face in exasperation. Could they at least attempt to keep his ancestral home in one piece?!
Without further ado, Dolohov marches into the cold night with his cloak eagerly snapping behind him. The door slams portentously behind him leaving the Death Eater's uncertain. The Dark Lord had changed in many ways since his return. Their master no longer put tortured them with the Cruciatius Curse, but he was infinitely far more cruel and deadly. The madness that seemed uncontainable had finally been bridled.
The Death Eater's cease to breathe as Voldemort's crimson eyes pass them over one by one. The burly Death Eater named Seth possesses far too much brawn rather than intelligence. The brother of the deceased Corban Yaxley, Darith Yaxely a pale wizard with rugged domineering features and blond hair eagerly puffs out his ċhėst. However, the Dark Lord passes over Darith Yaxley as he required sly flattery and not haughty arrogance.
Voldemort's crimson gaze falls upon three Death Eaters standing together. MaCann, a sly wizard with a long scar across the stretch of his face, a souvenir earned at Rowan Prince's hands during their stay in the marshes. A gift MaCann was most eager to return to the Prince's granddaughter. The second is a spotted wizard named Sirglide, who knew the art of flattery and used it rather successfully. And the third, a female witch with dragon pox scars on her skin named Bonnenne. The witch was not very powerful, but she more than made up for her weakness with fierce savagery.
”MaCann, Sirglide, and Bonnenne,” Voldemort said causing the Death Eater's to blink and the three Death Eaters to alertly stand straight up. ”I require that you appease the vampires.”
Many of the Death Eaters including Rodolphus Lestrange gaze with some astonishment at the Dark Lord. It was almost unheard of for the Dark Lord to attempt to please much less appease any party. Why even the giants had not been appeased so much as bribed!
”The vampires have felt slighted ever since our alliance with the giants,” Voldemort said avoiding mentioning the fact that the vampires had been slighted since the beginning of the war with the selection of werewolves as allies, (but who no longer existed thanks to the cure). ”Furthermore, the vampires wished to test our strength, but I had greater plans,” causing the Death Eaters to smirk at the tragedy that befell the giants.
”Persuade the vampires to agree to hear out our proposal for an alliance,” Voldemort matter-of-factly stated with a steely glint in his eyes. ”Failure is not an option.”
The trio pales at their master's words, but they all meekly bowed their heads forward. They would fulfill their master's request, or it would be better they did not return all.. Death only awaited those that failed, there were no excuses.