King Ad Rock
Abednego
The Sexy, Suave King of Dance Ziek Sidane
Location: Jakka's Crossing, Libertia
Date: Month 6, Day 15
Time: Between the first and second hour of morning (1:30 A.M)
Oh, baby, baby, it's a wild world, it's hard to get by just upon a smile, girl…
The ales, wines, and meads were flowing. Drinking glasses chimed together as their alcoholic contents spilled over their rims, splashing on the old wooden countertops. The sounds of the lyres, lutes, and vielles strummed on all night due to a certain patron continuously tossing gold coin in the tavern band’s direction without fail.
The young, undeniably intoxicated man that, just a few hours before had tossed a bag of gold coin on the barkeep’s counter, now had each arm around his fellow peers and well-wisher’s necks, and was bellowing out a chant-y drinking song alongside a cacophony of drunken voices. Dancing of the wait staff to the music was not only asked for, but also almost comically demanded. The noises of joy and laughter echoed out of the old, wooden building, and off into the deep and dense Libertian rain forests. The egregiously loud singer that had bought the whole tavern several rounds was Ziek Sidane.
He had stumbled into this minor fortune, which was quickly dwindling, by slaying a Jungle Tral-el that was giving builders of the new Libertian city, Melsias a bit of trouble. This particular scaled beast was not massive like its ancient brethren, but it had speed and maneuverability that Ziek had not seen before in the gigantic creatures. The jovial drinker was no stranger to hunting the ferocious and fanged monstrosities of Zeldwa. Ziek spent the better part of the afternoon tracking it down to its nest deep within the Swazi Forest. The Tral-el put up a commendable struggle and fight, but ultimately was taken down and decapitated by the former mercenary. After dragging the enormous, severed head behind his back for several miles, he brought it to the leader of the city building crew. Ziek collected his rather hefty remuneration and made a straightaway for the local tavern in Jakka’s Crossing, Bergen’s Drink-Hole.
Jakka's Crossing, Bergen's Drinkhole
No sooner did the burlap bag of Libertian currency hit the counter top did the festivities start with a sudden, thunderous strum of music and clanging of glasses. The local and usual patrons of the shady establishment gave each other half-smiles of missing teeth and wide-bloodshot eyes as filled to the brim glasses were slid down the counters and tables their ways. The drinks were flowing But all good nights and times of celebration and enjoyment must slowly ebb and come to an end. The tavern dwellers soon began to decline the paid for drinks, and chose to stumble their way back to their huts and ancient homes built into the trees of the forest. The band was now tired out from continuous strumming and their voices horse from the endless singing. They were packing their instruments and belongings and were now heading to the front door, pockets ringing with the sound of gold coins. Tavern-maids now had brooms in hand as they wearily swept broken glass and tracked dirt. The shorter and much more attractive of the two slowly closed her eyes and rested her flush cheek against her broom handle until a raucous holler jolted her from the momentary slumber.
There was only one person left that the tavern owner, Bergen Sandwater was having trouble getting to leave, and that person was currently shouting and swaying in the front doorway, using his large spear as a means from falling flat on his face. Ziek was still not ready to call it a night:
"Alright Ziek, We want to thank you so much for everything, but we’re goin’ to be closin’ up shop now. It's so much later than we usually close so-" Bergen could not get another word out before a sticky, ale-covered hand grabbed him by the shoulder and alcoholic soaked breath sailed from Ziek’s mouth, watering the elder Nomasdae tavern owner’s eyes.
“Hey-hey-h-hey… Calm down, calm down Bergen, my friend.” Ziek let out a slurred hush and put several of his dirty fingers lazily on Bergen’s lips, flicking his bottom lip, much to Bergen’s disgust and dismay. “I gotsch to ask- Oh, your lips are so soft *Hic* -I gotsch to ask you somethin’…” Ziek trailed off as his half opened, blood-shot emerald eyes were now looking past Bergen, back into the Drink-Hole, eyeing the two young Nomasdae tavern-maids who were trying to tiredly clean up his mess.
Bergen made a delicate attempt at removing Ziek’s hand from his person, only to have Ziek strangely put his palm directly on the man’s wrinkled forehead in a patting motion. A large, drunken smile crept across the boozed merc’s chapped lips:
“Ziek, please, it is almost dawn-“ Bergen's implorations were cut off and ignored yet again.
“I gotsch to ask.” Ziek’s words were slurred and almost incoherent. “Those bar-maids... *Hic*" He paused for a moment and appeared to swallow something before continuing. “You ever, after closin’ up the place, and you close and you’re a dirty-dog and you say ‘I’m the bossh’ and then you grab them from behind!” Ziek was rambling and incomprehensible.
He furrowed his brow, realizing his words were not making a lick of sense. The copious amounts of liquor he had consumed the hours before were fuzzing his thoughts and twisting his speech. His hand gestured to the female workers:
“You and them…?”
“Ziek-" The barkeep looked concerned about what was to come next.
“I-I mean, Holy Azae be damned, look-look at that tall one.” Ziek adjusted his weight against his spear in his off hand as he let out an exaggeratedly exasperated “Woo” at the end of his mumbled sentence.
Bergen stopped trying to interrupt his tipsy loiterer for a moment and looked confusingly back towards his employees. The taller barmaid, who was now wiping down the counters and table, looked up from her cleaning and grinned a toothless, haggard smile:
“Ziek, listen-" Bergen attempted his fruitless protests again.
“If I was you, you don’t know how you’d get any-any *Hic * of my work done. Just be lookin’ at em’. Starin’ at em’…” Ziek trailed off, as he appeared to fall asleep for several seconds, then shook himself awake:
“Goddamn hands would wander!” He shouted out of nowhere, acting as if he had never dozed off.
“And that lil’ one over there, right over there. Ohh- " Ziek pointed again but his praises for the women were interrupted by an unexpected belch.
“She looks like she’s played a few games of ‘hide the pickle’ in her day, if you know what I’m saying.” Ziek had an ear-to-ear grin as he looked past Bergen again into the tavern. “And I’m willin’ tah bet gold to assholes that she’s undefeated too.” Bergen spoke once more while Ziek ignored him and continued his inebriated ramblings.
“Ziek, those are my daughters” Bergen put emphasis on the last word. He was almost pleading with this last sentence.
During this revelation Ziek was making a parting motion with both of his hands in the air and sticking his tongue out in a crude manner; but upon hearing these words and allowing them to digest in his booze-soaked mind, Ziek froze and grimaced at his host:
“W-w-wait-wait. What?”Ziek stuttered and choked out. It appeared as if he refused to accept or process the information that was just given to him.
“Maybe he didn’t hear me.” This was a ridiculous thought, of course, considering Ziek had nearly shouted every word that had come out of his mouth for the past few hours.
“You are talkin’ about my daughters, Ziek.” Bergen’s face showed exhaustion more than any type of anger. At this point, all the old man wanted to do was lock the front door to his business and get home to his awaiting wife.
“Oh.” Ziek said lifelessly, followed by a much more emphatic, “Ohhh!” suggesting the idea was just occurring to him.
The wobbly drunk let out a sudden and sharp hiss of air as he gritted his teeth and winced:
“Shit, whoops...” Ziek's voice tapered off. "I'msshure she's doesn't even like pickles, and never hid any in her life, I bet *Hic*" Ziek, without intention, let one last hiccup escape to punctuate his poor attempt at an apology.
Bergen sighed quietly to himself and patted Ziek on the shoulder, almost knocking the drunkard off balance:
“Go get some sleep.” He said with an amazing amount of patience.
"But wait!" Ziek blurted out with urgency. Bergen paused in the doorway, the only light now in the city shining from behind him, and stared back at Ziek, "Yes?"
"Let me get one for the road you goddamn handsome sonofabitch." Ziek said with enthusiasm. It was the most coherent and straightforward thing he had phonated all night.
Immediately Bergen thought back to just an hour before when Ziek had been sick all over their floor, emptying several ale glasses full of his stomach contents:
"Goodnight Ziek." With that uttered, the tavern owner moved with haste to behind the threshold of his establishment and swung the door close, taking the light from Ziek’s person with it. Ziek stood there, not moving for several seconds, his nose just a few inches from the cracked, wooden door as he could heard a heavy lock being put into place. Finally, he turned and strolled over to the forest while speaking out loud to no one in particular,
“Motherfucker..." Ziek muttered.
He had hoped he had consumed enough of the God's nectar to bring the sweet slumber that escaped him more often than not. The drinking was always an attempt, never a guarantee, at sleeping. It didn’t hurt to be drunk either. The familiar urgent sensation in his lower regions was both the reason for his leisurely stroll and getting worse by the passing second.
The bright stars in the Libertian night sky were beginning to fade as the morning hours were creeping in. The cool night breeze that was blowing Ziek’s medium length, messy, black hair would be dying down soon and giving way to a hot and humid jungle day.
Down the main dirt road of Jakka's crossing was the inn that Ziek had rented a room in for the past few days, but before returning for attempted repose, he needed to handle nature's calling. The forest was eerily silent for these twilight hours. Had Ziek not been in an alcoholic stupor, or in a rush to empty his bladder, he might have taken notice. After making it several yards into the forest brush for a bit of privacy, Ziek found an appropriate tree and leaned his right hand out against it to steady his wavering balance as he started to relieve himself.
The feeling of relief was close to euphoric as he involuntarily let out a small moan into the night. Looking up, he noticed that what looked to be storm clouds were beginning to form and gather in the sky above the heart of the Swazi. A faint noise began to emanate from elsewhere in the forest. Some kind of buzzing sound was increasing in decibels from further within. Still very under the influence and naturally curious, Ziek finished up, grabbed his spear, and stumbled deeper into the rain forest. He followed the strange noise for several minutes as the sinister looking clouds continued to congregate and grow overhead. Ziek stared as the clouds smashed together and blotted out the setting moon:
"What the hell...?" he muttered out loud to himself as he stuck out his empty hand, waiting for rain.
A crash of blue lightning struck the forest floor with enough ferocity to gouge out a small crater just a few feet away from Ziek. The thunder roared like the sound of some hellish beast. He jumped back, shielding his eyes from the intense light. Heavy rain crashed down instantly from the ominous storm clouds and with force. That's when he saw it, the source of the hum. A glowing black orb with crimson tendrils lashing out with a chaotic vengeance, only to come crashing back into the orb, descended from the storm clouds high above head. Ziek watched as the cycle renewed, pulling everything back to itself as it tore itself apart once more. He could not pull his gaze from this otherworldly thing as it hung there by an unknown force. This terrifying scene filled him with fear, but for some inexplicable reason, he could feel a deep primal rage also growing from within inside of him.
Not being able to move his eyes away, he watched as the raven black and blood red ball of energy began to shape itself into what appeared to be the form of a man. A skeletal frame formed in the swirling blackness. Ziek could feel his legs begin to tremble, but they refused to take him anywhere as this unholy sight unraveled before him. The being that was assembling would tower over even the most tremendously sized T’Odis. This entity, whatever it was, stood at an immense eight feet tall. Bone and sinew materialized from the dark energy, creating massive arms and legs. The vegetation underneath this monster burned and singed from the creation.
A face, demonic in its appearance, wrestled itself to life from mass that was to be its head. Skin, dead grey in its color, stretched and grew over the muscles that were also coming into creation:
“What the hell was in that ale? Liquor doesn’t turn? Does it...? A bald headed, beast-man now existed, crouched and nude, with swirls of red energy dissipating around him.
The monstrosity brought his chin up to meet Ziek's eyes with his own inhuman snake-like pupils. It spoke, seeming to struggle with the words, with a voice Ziek could not have imagined,even in his worst nightmares. The words were just garbled noises in their first attempts, but eventually the beast’s lips formed the word in way that he could understand. “Fear.” One word is all it spoke, perfectly summing up Ziek’s current feelings.
Without realizing it, Ziek had started to hold his breath in awe of what had transpired before him. The hulking creature as if mocking him, inhaled and exhaled heavily while never breaking his gaze. The burning in the young man's lungs reminded him to finally gasp a mouthful of air. Oxygen seemingly being all he needed to break his trance-like state, he shook his head and snapped out of it, although the fear was still present in his mind.
Hearing the tremble in his own voice, Ziek spoke, "W-what the fuck is that…?” The frightened man was speaking to himself but the giant showed signs of understanding.
The beast-man paused before responding, his eyes darting back and forth, likely searching for the words in his mind. His mouth fought to form the words with a fiendish smile, the monstrous voice that escaped from it sounding like several men speaking at once creating a devilish echo. “Garnerge." It bellowed out.
It's enunciation of it's own name brought a sickening smile to its face. The otherworldly abomination that now had a name examined Ziek, letting his almost glowing eyes fall upon the spear that was tight in the man’s grip. A smile spread across Garnerge's face, pulling his dark lips from ear to ear, exposing inhuman fangs jutting from his bottom row of teeth:
"Creature, are you a warrior on this rock?" The words were coming more naturally to him now, although they had not lost their supernatural tone. "Come, help me test out this new body... If you manage to amuse me, I will make your death quick and painless" Showing no signs of letting his colossal frame slow him down, this bestial mammoth sprinted forth, raising his massive fists high above his head.
Instinct and over a decade of training kicked in as... Ziek turned tale and fled for his life. The jolly intoxication that Ziek had worked hard to achieve was now forgotten as adrenaline began coursing through his veins and terror steadily tried to invade his conscious. Darting through the trees of the forests with nimble yet still drunken speed. The thunderous sounds of his pursuer’s footsteps and the piercing cracking of trees being ripped apart and torn from the ground, echoed through the closing, silent night and drove him to move faster. Deep, guttural laughter stormed out from what sounded to be just feet behind him:
“Holy fucking Azae, is this how I'm going to die? Some naked giant is going to appear out of thin air and rip me apart? This has got to be a fucking nightmare.” Ziek could swear he could feel hot breath on the back of his neck.
Pumping his legs to pick up speed, his eyes narrowed in on a branch. He listened intently to the explosive stomps of Garnerge and tried to time his jump perfectly. Using a stone erupting and bulging from the earth for leverage, he leaped and reached with his left hand. His palm, rough and calloused, gripped the branch, and using the momentum from the vault, swung his body up into the air. He gripped the tree's appendage tightly, stalling himself upside down for split second. Ziek watched the mass of naked beast whirl by in a blur.
Releasing his grasp, he fell gracefully to the ground, his feet now reversing and taking him into the opposite direction as fast as they possibly could.
"A quick and clever one you are!" Garnerge roared.
With unrealistic agility for a being of his size, Garnerge came to a skidding halt and barreled through in the converse direction also, right behind Ziek, knocking over the trees in his paths as if they were mere sticks.
That's when the desperate young man saw his chance at survival. In his path, in the middle of the upcoming clearing to the forest, was a corl; a one thousand year old, tremendously tall tree found in the Swazi. Ziek ran full-speed at the tree, raising his spear and cocking it into throwing position. He let the weapon go with prodigious force and watched it soar through the air, planting itself deep into the trunk of the tree several feet higher than his head. Using it as a spring of sorts, he leaped on top of it and sprung himself far up the base of the tree, grabbing the nearest thick branch. Wasting no time, he wrapped his calves firmly around the branch, dipped himself upside-down, and with quick and forceful pull, plucked his weapon from the corl's bark. Pulling himself back up, he positioned himself in a sturdy stance, and watched as Garnerge exploded into the clearing.
Ziek’s muscles twitched with anticipation while his eyes scoped in intently. Coming to a stop and watching Ziek cautiously, Garnerge spoke:
"Are all the beings of this rock as cowardly as this one? Come and show me what this pathetic planet has got!" his voice was full of barbaric rage and fury.
"Here ya' go ya’ ugly bowl of shit!" was Ziek's response as he launched his spear from his perch on the tree with deadly accuracy; and watched as, within a split second, the gorgeously crafted, serrated steel tip plunged deep into the right eye of the taunting brute. The inhuman shriek of pain that escaped Garnerge’s jaws would have been music to Ziek's ears, had it not been so loud that it felt like his eardrums were about to burst. The force from the impact of the projectile had caused Garnerge’s enormous head to cock back suddenly, as he let out the piercing cry into the Libertian forest's sky. Ziek's dirt covered hands involuntarily flung to his ears, his fingers plugging them up.
He was still convinced that this had to be a drinking induced nightmare.
"Now that’s a goddamn bull's-eye." He chuckled nervously at his own terrible joke, only to have his laugh cut off by a much louder one from the forest floor.
The monstrous screams of pain screeching out from the giant had died out to become nightmarish guffaws. Any feelings of triumph quickly disappeared as fear and panic immediately washed over Ziek once again. He was frozen with terror, unable to move a muscle, as he watched Garnerge perform another feat only read about in books of fiction.
The giant slowly brought his head back to a prone position, his good eye, a shining, golden orb in the moonlight, fell upon the crouched warrior while his mocking laugh became almost hysterical. The spear was lodged deep within his right eye-socket with a grey blood-like liquid oozing from the wound. Garnerge lifted his tree-trunk sized arm and brought his gargantuan hand to his face, wrapping his fingers tightly around the weapon jutting from his head. With an effortless tug, Garnerge pulled it from his eye-socket, creating a revolting and wet sound. The entire right side of his face was decimated, his eye now a gaping hole. Despite the spear being longer than Ziek was tall, it looked humorously like a child's toy in Garnerge's grasp. Ziek could only flinch at the sound of his beloved weapon cracking in two as the otherworldly being clenched his fist, although it's loss was the least of his problems at the moment.
"You thought you had me there, didn't you creature?" Another fiendish smile crept across Garnerge’s black lips.
Ziek refused to believe what he saw next. The crater on the right side of Garnerge's face started to reform from nothing. The hole in his skull almost seemed to give birth to a new eye. Skin and muscle appeared, pulsating, and multiplied across his cheek. In nearly an instant, the monster's face was now entirely unharmed.
“Please, let this be a dream...” Ziek wasn’t sure who or what he was pleading with in his mind, probably just himself. The words echoed over and over again in his skull.
"I think it is my turn."Garnerge howled while storming forward at improbable speed.
There was no time for Ziek to react as the roaring giant's formidable arms stretched out, and his oversized hands slammed close around the corl's trunk. His fingers splintered the bark and penetrated deep into the wood. Ziek braced himself against the tree and watched his attacker in confusion. Garnerge squatted, and with horrific strength, ripped the corl from its roots. Large clumps of jungle earth fell by his sides from the gnarly root system In a panicky, high-pitched, yet still defiantly sarcastic tone Ziek yelled down the tree:
"Hey! Cut that shit out!"
Ignoring his prey's laughable plea, Garnerge wailed "I see no wings on you creature, but let us see if you can fly!"
With all his might, the being known as Garnerge flung the ancient tree high up into the heavens. The wind blew around Ziek's greasy and unwashed hair, while he held on for dear life to his wingless ride as it spun wildly through the air.
What a sight it must of been, had anyone been in the area, to glance up and see this several stories tall tree move through the night with someone riding upon it like some kind of ship. The tree was only airborne for seconds, yet it felt like minutes to Ziek as dizziness and nausea set in. Everything was a green whirling motion blur. He could feel himself begin to lose consciousness as well as his grip to his out-of-control vessel. It was at this moment that he had come to the conclusion that he was not awake. That this was all a terrible, terrible dream and he has indeed been sleeping peacefully this entire time. It was only a matter of time now:
“Wonderful. I hope I wake up soon.”
The tree and Ziek's body plummeted back towards Azae at an alarming speed, like two crashing meteors.
Pirate Captain Adam Durant
Location: Jakka's Crossing, Libertia
Date: Month 6, Day 15
Time: The second hour of morning (2 A.M)
“... and tha mermaid wifth tha sheaweed hair
Hap’ly took my pearly necklace!”
A group of sailors and other intoxicated men finished their sea shanty. One sailor climbed atop a table and chugged a full pitcher of dark brown ale. The tavern cheered and egged him on. The grinning seaman wiped foam from his mouth and took an unsteady bow that toppled the table, sending beer and glass flying. The crowd’s laughter burst anew at both the sailor who had knocked himself out on the floor and at those who had been soaked with beer.
Adam guffawed from a corner table as he watched yet another one of his men pass out drunk. The crew deserved this night of debauchery. Today they had delivered all their cargo to the Melsias builders. The trip had been financially risky, with iron oxide from Mt. Zaldur, sand from Indoria, and limestone from Mt. Vagar. They had made it, and the payoff was very good. Two ship holds were now stuffed with Pashush, a potent plant that many in Libertia grew and smoked. Pash was illegal in Roadilia and fetched a high price on the black market. Now crew, and captain alike, were enjoying some much needed shore rest.
“Nef, why don’t you wake Silas, and the other passed out fools, and herd them back to camp.” Adam told the second mate, who was sitting at the table with the captain, quarter master, and carpenter. “If I hear of any trouble in the morning, you’ll be the one to answer for it.”
“Yes, sir.” Nef, a large T’Odis man, finished his drink before starting to wake the drunken sailors who were passed out under tables or in their chairs.
“How bouts Issshhhave anofer drink?” Silas slured as Nef lifted him to his feet by the collar.
“No,” Came the curt answer as Nef threw Silas out the door.
The best part about this night was that Adam’s crew had not paid for anything. Some tral-el hunter, who seemed to be in an increasingly good mood, scored big and had been buying rounds for the Drink-Hole all night.
The tral-el hunter was on the other side of the room, partying it up with some of the crew and locals. It appeared that a fight was breaking out between two of Adam’s men, one of them soaked with beer. The dry one punched the other in the face sending him stumbling over the fallen table. Nef interceded then, grabbing one man by the head and the other by the leg, he dragged them out of the Hole. The crowd cheered.
“Do you plan on drinkin all night, cap’n?” asked the carpenter, a Libertian man. The bar was beginning to empty. Only the hardiest of drinkers now remained. Adam, and his officers had taken it easy, however. A few lucid minds were always needed on such outings.
“Nah, we’ll stay as long as the lizard hunter is still drinking. Then we’ll help relieve him of the rest of his gold. Someone that pissed could get in trouble carry such heavy coin purse at night.” Adam hid his wicked grin by taking a sip of beer. The carpenter smiled, but the quarter master remained silent and grim, for he had little to say when he was not giving orders.
A few hours later, Adam had to compliment the hunter on his endurance, the free spending patron began emptying his stomach onto the floor. “It’s time to go,” the barkeep was beginning to kick people out. “Grayson, round up the drunker men and head back to camp.” The quarter master nodded and got to it, “Izem, take the rest and meet me around back.”
Adam, Izem, and two slightly less drunk sailors stood besides a window behind the tavern. One of them, a Libertian, brought out a tinder box. After some drunken fumbling he managed to spark up a shush. Another sailor, an Indorian who had taken liking to the herb, brought out another spliff, wrapped in a tobacco leaf, and lit it off the Libertian’s. Through the window, the four men listened to the conversation as they smoked.
“I wouldn’t mind taking home one of those daughters myself.” Said the Nomasdae, looking at the captain.
“Quiet, Mos! And put those things out, it’s time to go. Iz, keep an eye on this Ziek character, we’ll be further behind.” Izem knew how to travel quietly through these forests.
As Adam walked down the forest pass he was surprised how faded he was. The other two men stumbled slightly. Adam kept an ear open, listening for danger and the bird noises that he followed. Izem’s calls seemed out of place in the quiet forest, but Adam did not wonder why. A parrot squawk to the left stopped the trio. Izem slinked out of the bushes and whispered to Adam, “He stopped to take a piss, then followed that buzzing sound into the woods.” Adam could here Ziek crashing through the woods and just then noticed the buzzing. It was getting louder.
With a great crack of thunder, a lightning bolt struck the forest, though the skies were clear. A tumult of breaking branches and yells came from Ziek’s direction. The crashing moved away from Adam’s group, none of which had any notion to follow. A terrible shriek of pain came from the forest that made the pirates to step away, covering their ears.
“What the fuck was that?” Adam asked, knowing he could receive no answer. There came a tremendous cracking of branches and a whole tree shot into the sky. “Let’s check that out.” Adam did not want to mess with whatever threw it. Izem led the way as the four men fled the area.
At the crash site they found the tral-el hunter to be still alive. Certainly, the man was passed out and fucked up but he was still breathing. The captain started giving orders. “Mos, get the gold bag. Rat, pour some of that fire water you drink down this poor bastard’s throat then get back to camp with Mos. Iz, give him a few slaps. I want to find out what happened.”
Exiled Kildran Noble Kael Gilgrend
Location: Jakka's Crossing, Libertia
Date: Month 6, Day 15
Time: The 2nd hour of morning (2 A.M.)
Blood splattered on to the floors like red raindrops. Every thunderous crack of bone on bone enticing a chorus of cathartic chants and cheers. Kael hit the ground in a heap, his body bruised and discolored. The crescent wound above his eye bled freely, blinding him.
His chest heaved with every labored breath. Everything felt dissascotiative. He could hear the crowd that encircled him screaming for him to get up. Demanding it. Commanding him to win. Failure and their loss of profits wouldn't be tolerated. They might as well been a million miles away, their noise just a dull roar. Like a burgeoning headache.
He could feel the various minerals and particles that littered the filthy floor digging into his skin. But all that mattered was the pounding in his skull. His head spun, and without even looking, he could tell the mammoth Nomasdae man he had been matched against was boasting to the crowd.
Kael had to take it one step at a time. Even getting to a knee felt like a monumental victory. Up, you Kildran bastard! Fight! You pathetic little pink man! He wasn't the most popular man in Libertia, and was only moderately tolerated at Wenzo's, a large tavern in Jakkas Crossing known for its cheap booze, cheaper women, and the front runner for "Combat Entertainment."
Kael felt fingers clasp around his throat and force him to his feet. It was possible the former Kildran commander had bit off a bit more than he could chew. He had dispatched his first three opponents for the night with a distinct ease. And then he met Borde. He wasn't sure if Borde was a first or last name, all that mattered was the hulking beast was kicking Kaels ass.
"I know you and your family, Kildran. I hear your father begged for his life before they yanked off his tiny pink Kildran cock."
Kaels face contorted into one of rage. Anger tore at the lines in his face, and he reached for the man's throat, like a child trying to get his favorite toy back from an older sibling. Bonde just laughed, tossing him to the ground like a doll.
"You're a failure. A disgrace. A stain on the history of your people," Bonde snorted, and soiled Kael more with a loogey from deep in his throat, that stuck in Kaels hair, "I'll be doing Kildra a favor in killing yo--"
Kael had pushed himself to a kneeling position. Before Bonde could finish his thoughts Kael bounced to his feet unleashing an unholy hell of a kick into Bondes crotch, enticing a loud and long "Oohhhhhh" from the crowd. Kael wasn't happy with castration via trauma, however. As Bonde doubled over, Kael dropped the point of his elbow into the bridge of his nose, shattering it with a loud crack.
Bonde fell to his side, one hand tending to his crotch, the other his face. Kael sent kicks and stomps on violent succession. The once raucous crowd had been silenced. The only sounds were sloppy and sickly wet smacks with the occasional crunch. Kael stopped when he heard sobbing. Eyes scanned the crowd for the Asshole indecent enough to bring a child in a place of such destitute, not making an effort to hide his surprise when the source was Bonde himself.
Kael turned from the sack of flesh he left on the ground, and made for the bar, a sea of people parting for him. Nearly collapsing on the bar, he grabbed a cup, slamming it in front of the bartender.
"I don't want to see the bottom of this tonight, understand?"
The tender did indeed.
This went on for hours. Kael drained drink after drink, most of which were bought for him. He spent a good deal of time telling old war stories to bar whores, who in return told him how brave he was, pressing wet clothe to his wounds.
But eventually he had to pay for his own drinks. The whores filed out to find other lonely men with deep pockets, and all that was left was Kael and his bottle. The bartender was closing up the shop, a barmaid on her hands and knees scrubbing away blood from the floor.
Kael thought the vibrations were just in his head. A side effect of cheap whiskey. The rumbles grew louder and more violent, until the whiskey sloshed out of his glass. Kael stood, trading looks with the bartender, and headed for the door.
Now it was screams that owned the night. They burst through the door into the street, Smoke rose in billowing pillars, the soft orange glow of destruction polluting the once serene night sky.
It didn't take long to hone in on the attacker. It was more beast than man, and obviously had none of its humanity in tact, if it ever had any at all. It was building some sort of pyre, stacking bodies atop of bodies.
The thing was dragging two fully grown men now, their heads clenched in his massive palms, red chunks oozing between the spaces of his knuckles. Kael wanted to intervene. He wanted to say something heroic and give the beast a true lesson in humanity and decency.
All he managed was a half hearted "Hey!" followed by a murmered oh, fuck me when the beasts incandescent eyes locked into him.
The following was originally posted by @King Ad Rock as a joint post with @noremac in the previous IC
The Sexy, Suave King of Dance Ziek Sidane
Pirate Captain Adam Durant and his crew
Location: In the jungles a little outside of Jakka's Crossing, Libertia
Date: Month 6, Day 15
Time: Between the third and fourth hour of morning (3:15 A.M.)
99 red balloons floating in the summer sky
Panic bells, it's red alert
There’s something here from somewhere else
The war machine, it springs to life
Opens up one eager eye
Focusing it on the sky
As 99 red balloons go by.
It was fresh in his mind like it was only yesterday. Two figures stood in a small clearing in the Swazi Forest facing each other. A young man, Ziek himself years ago, was facing off against an older Nomasdae fellow, his mentor Syler Hazule, in one of his first of many sparring matches. He was just a child then, his scars and muscles from years of battle and training were absent. His hair was the shortest it had ever been, cut close to his scalp and not yet grown out and unkempt. Gone were the darkened skin and bags under his eyes from countless sleepless nights. Standing there was a boy with his whole life ahead of him.
Syler was moving around a stationary Ziek. He was a bald, dark skinned man with contemplative features. Dressed in various trinkets, small weapons, and pouches; his life as a traveler was quite evident.
The memory played out perfectly clear in Ziek’s unconscious mind.
The young Ziek gripped the handle of the short sword in his palms tightly with both of his hands. He pointed the freshly sharpened tip towards Syler who was quickly sidestepping in a large circle around him. The Swazi forest was quiet in the humid night. Dripping with sweat from the heat, a single bead ran down his forehead while Ziek watched as the lantern illuminated the elder warrior in the darkness, accentuating his fluid dance-like movements. His long brown traveling jacket fluttered around his waist with the slight breezes that came through. Twirling between Syler’s fingers was his cane, ready to strike his student without hesitation. He was both mesmerizing and terrifying to Ziek.
Ziek kept his emerald eyes focused intently on Syler, waiting for his moment patiently. And then, there it was, a small opening in his defense. The young trainee lunged forward as quickly as he could and with all of his strength, just like Syler had instructed. There was no yelling out this time. No giving forewarning to his attack. He had learned from his previous mistakes, but still the blade only caught thin air as Syler stepped smoothly to the side at just the last second. The weight of the blade pulled Ziek’s arms down as it got further from his body. He felt his stance weaken and the sudden cut of air, as he knew what came next.
THWACK!
Ziek’s senses were heightened as he felt the biting sting of the tip of Syler’s cane across his cheek. A small but deep gash appeared, almost as if from nothing. Warm blood trickled down his face. The boy cried out loudly in surprise, pain, and anger. Syler called to him, while never stopping his movement,
“That was too pitifully slow young one. Try again.”
“Cocky piece of-“
“Fuck you, old man! I’m going to fuckin’ kill you!” Ziek answered in fury, He swung to his left at a horizontal angle with a wild stroke. Syler was there one instant, and gone the next as the short blade swiped the air yet again. This time, the response came too quick for Ziek’s eyes to catch. Only the slight whistle of the cane cutting through the air let him know he was about to feel that familiar pain once again.
THWACK!
This strike caught Ziek right between his eyes and left a much more open and serious wound. He would bear this scar for the rest of his life. More crimson red blood poured down his face as he brought both his hand up to cover it, dropping the sword to ground.
“You will not be killing anything if you continue to move like that, young one. Quite honestly, I’m surprised you caught our dinner tonight.” Ziek could feel the rage building up inside of him from Syler’s taunts. The numerous lacerations on his face and arms from the excessive lashes of Syler’s cane did not help matters. Pulling his hands from his face, he inspected the blood that had pooled into his palms. His sight and attention then switched to the sword in the dirt, just a couple of feet in front of him.
With a flurry of action Ziek dove for the short blade, and upon retrieving it, hacked desperately at Syler’s feet with every intention of cutting his toes off. The sword’s edge only chewed away at earth though, with Syler’s graceful leap out of harm’s way and over Ziek’s head. Panicked, Ziek spun around hoping to dodge or deflect the inevitable strike that was coming, but it was too late. The whistle was coming. Another familiar sting came to his already swollen cheek as his head jerked to the left and blood flew from his mouth.
THWACK!
A large and scabbed palm connected to Ziek’s right cheek with a deafening slap. The pain and sudden surprising sensation brought him back to the present. Keeping his eyes closed, he tried to get an idea of his situation while feigning unconsciousness. He could feel his body was covered in small, drying cuts, and his mouth was full of the recognizable taste of copper. The ground and leaves beneath him felt slightly wet, possibly with his own urine. It was not the first time Ziek had awoken with no memory of the night before and in questionable physical condition.
He swore he could smell smoke.
Ziek tried to listen closely to get an idea of how many people were around him. There was a slight breeze, but it was only barely touching him so he knew four or more people surrounded him. It was at that moment that he felt one of the men slip a hand behind his head, and begin to pour some kind of intensely strong alcohol down his throat. The never forgotten taste of “Fire-Water” filled his mouth, throat, and sinuses. It was all Ziek could do to not choke back up the burning liquid and give away his awareness. Before he knew it, he found himself gulping down the fiery drink. Then one of the men spoke,
"There's no gold, captain."
“Oh fuck, they’re robbing me. Did I spend all my gold? I think I spent all my gold. Fuck you guys. Pour more of that shit down my throat.”
Another more authoritative voice answered the first one, “Whatever, stick around then, looks like he's waking. Give him some more grog."
“You heard the man, more Grog.” Ziek felt the change in the air and knew another strike and attempt at waking him was coming. His mind sent the signal to his right arm to catch the opposing swat, but all that returned was acute agony from up and down his shoulder as his arm remained unresponsive. He had felt this before and knew that his shoulder was severely dislocated. Then came the slap.
THWACK!
“MOTHERFUCKER!” Ziek made a mental note to slap the ever-living shit out of whoever it was hitting him at the moment.
Now a third voice came into hearing protesting the one with seeming authority, "but he already-"
"Izem, hit Rat instead. And give me his flask." Was the leader’s only answer. Some kind of scuffle commenced between the others and a slap, this time not Ziek’s face, rang out.
"Brown nosed, mother fu-“ answered one of the voices. More slapping could be heard again. Ziek was beginning to question what kind of bumbling idiots were trying to rob him. Then he felt the familiar breeze of the incoming strike. This time Ziek raised his left arm with swiftness and caught his striker’s wrist before he could make contact. Forcing his swollen eyes open to finally look upon his muggers, Ziek choked out,
“Stop. Slappin’. Me.”
The man who was slapping Ziek yanked his wrist from Ziek’s grasp. He had a round and very dark face with wild, bloodshot eyes that were full of expression. He smelled horrible. Or maybe that was Ziek. "Good morning, Ziek." He answered with a large grin on his face. "You're lucky I happen to be a doctor, of sorts." How did he know his name? It was at that moment that Ziek had a flashback to the night before.
The quick scene that played out in his mind’s eye showed him standing on the tavern’s countertop, kicking his feet into the air and wrapping his flailing, drunken arms around several men’s neck’s while screaming out, “I’M ZIEK SIDANE, THE KING OF DANCE!” And that’s how you keep a low profile. Ziek winced to himself inwardly at his moronic behavior.
"Don't start with your amputation jokes Iz." retorted the authoritative voice. Ziek adjusted his focus and looked to his right. The voice was coming from a lighter skinned Nomasdae man of average height with short black hair. Judging by his stance and demeanor, Ziek could tell this was who was in charge of this motley crew. He tried to remember the man from the night before, but nothing clear was coming to him.
There was two other Nomasdae man standing around him as well, in a semi circle. The entire group reeked of booze. They didn’t seem like your typical Libertian bandits, but certainly had a questionable moral air about them. "Need a drink?" The leader stated while handing Ziek a flask.
“At least they’re polite thieves.” Ziek thought to himself while straining to sit up and take yet another sip from the alcoholic beverages.
The pain was almost too excruciating as he did everything in his power from crying out. He counted several broken ribs on his right side. He could breathe fine though, and that’s what was most important. The man who was slapping Ziek, the one who the leader called "Iz” was now combing the forest floor for sticks.
"We saw your flying tree...Is this how you usually travel? Some would pay well for such technology." joked the leader. For the first time, he smiled a big toothy grin as if his crew did not just have their hands deep in Ziek’s pockets. No, this was not a man to trust. Ziek smiled back.
“What the fuck are you talkin’ bout?
"I'm talkin'bout how one minute you're partying it up in the Hole, next yer fucking flying on a fuckin tree," As Adam spoke, Izem ripped a piece of cloth from Rat's already ragged shirt. Rat did not resist; one eye swollen, the little man's spirits seemed to have been broken at the taking of his grog. "We all heard that scream..." The thought made Adam shiver.
"You want me to fix that?" Izem cut in, gesturing at Ziek's right shoulder. The carpenter was already reaching for Ziek's wrist and forearm.
Adam squat down so that he was eye to eye with Ziek, "What ever was in those woods I figured it was best to find the tree and try to piece out what happened. Since you seem to have been involved, I am hoping you will cooperate." Adam smiled. His mien betrayed a hint of animosity, though his tone was innocent enough.
Ziek had not a clue of what the strange robber was babbling about. Try as he might, he could not bring up one clear memory of the night before. Just then, another fragmented memory unfurled in his head. A feeling of extreme panic and drunkenly climbing a tall corl was all he could recall. Was this what the man was inquiring about? What the hell was he doing the night before? What did he drink?
Before Ziek could give him an answer the leader would accept; Iz, who had stated he was some kind of doctor, grabbed Ziek by his right wrist and forearm and gave it an abrupt and forceful jerk, snapping his shoulder back into place with a sickeningly loud click.
As the morning hours crept in and chased away the night and stars, Ziek cocked his head back and let an ear-piercing cry of pain and cursing into the fresh jungle morning.
“FUUUUUUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUUUCK! Not even a warning, you piece of Tral-el shit!?” Ziek spat on the ground as his eyes watered and fumed at Iz. The pain was tremendous and almost unbearable. After the burning in his shoulder had finally subsided to a dull ache, he realized the foul smelling man had actually helped him out quite a bit. He did not want to have to do that himself. The injured man muttered a half hearted, “Thanks” as he rested his weary head back against what felt like some kind of rock or stump.
Izem rolled back onto his haunches. "Now you gotta pay me. If you don't pay the doc, he might not patch you up so good next time." Izem smirked and eyed the flask.
Ziek ignored the drunk and turned his attention back to his questioner.
“Cooperate with you guys helping yourselves to the contents of my pockets? Guess I didn’t have much choice in that matter, now did I?” Ziek asked sarcastically while raising his bloodstained eyebrows. “Now I know the fuckin’ so-called doctor over here is Iz? Now, who are you good sirs?” The mocking tone in his inflection was obvious. The leader was about to give his answer and finally give Ziek his and the other’s names, when he was cut off by a womanly scream in the distance. He turned back to Ziek and the others with a concerned look.
"Obviously wasn’t me that time.” Ziek replied playfully.
He swore he could smell smoke.
Exiled Kildran Noble Kael Gilgrend
Location: Jakka's Crossing, Libertia
Date: Month 6, Day 15
Time: Between the second and third hour of the morning (2:30 A.M)
Garnerge released the mangled bodies he had twisted in his hands like they were clay. A wall of smoke momentarily veiled the monsters body behind it, leaving nothing but it's hulking silhouette and the two red rocks in its skull it called eyes. Kael had been around. He had seen some shit. He had heard stories of sea creatures which size was truly incomprehensible. But Kael had never dreamed he would come across a beast such at this.
It wasn't the behemoths size or power that unsettled him, but it's pathological desire and lust for carnage. It was his complete lack of any semblance of conscience. Garnarge reached down and plucked one of the dead men's ears off his head like it was a daisy, tossing it into his mouth and lazily chewing, that blood soaked smile never leaving his lips. Like a shark.
"Are you going to inquire about me, creature?" Garnarge snorted with sarcasm.
Kael didn't answer for a few moments. He could hear wood crackle as flame ate away at it, dissolving homes into ash. He could hear the screams of Jakka's Crossing. Some in fear. Some in agony. Finally, he could hear the beast let out a low bellow of a chuckle from time to time. Like it was a child's game.
Kael would show him this was no game. "Do wolves ask the name of the sheep they prey on?"
Garnerge howled with laughter. Kael calmly reached behind his shoulders with both hands and unsheathed both of his Scimitars from their scabbards.
"You think you are different...Think you matter..small creatures... with your pointy metal sticks..." Garnerge's sentence structure was rudimentary at best, but he managed to get his point across. Kael shrugged off his words and stalked at a cautious pace at first.
Garnerge followed suit, matching Kael's pace. They sped up to a jog, and finally a full on war charge. Kael could feel the ground shaking, as if Azae was struggling to support this abomination that had invaded it. Garnerge let out his otherworldly battle cry a moment before he reared back to strike, his arms raising above his head to pummel down onto Kael.
The beast had widened his base, giving Kael his opening. Kael had let out his own cry, which was drowned out by Garnerge. Kael dropped down to a knee, and leaned backwards, sliding on a mixture of soot and mud. He glided between Garnerge's legs, slashing his blades the monsters ankles as he did.
Garnerge let out a few grunts of confusion as he went to walk and had nothing but stumps at the end of his legs. He collapsed to all fours, gritting his blood stained teeth.
Kael had not been a soldier for years now, but the killer instinct he possessed never went away. It was a part of him. He wasted no time coming up behind the creature and thrusting his blade through the back of its skull. Garnerge's eyes were wide with surprise. The blade had sprouted out of his mouth, slicing his lip in half and forcing a few teeth to splinter and bend outwards.
The blade shrieked as he pulled it back, the steel scraping the bone of Garnerge's teeth and skull. The beast fell face first into the mud.
Kael turned his back to Garnerge. The villagers had begun to come out of their hiding. Kael did his best to smile and and assure them things would be fine. Never the same. That was a lie even he wouldn't peddle.
Kael was too preoccupied playing hero that his senses and instincts failed him. If it wasn't for his battle rust he may have noticed the the stumps he made out of Garnerges legs scab over at an accelerated rate, the creatures body producing and building cells at an unfathomable rate. Two small bulges began to grow from the center of the stumps, contorting and twisting until they resembled feet.
The back of his head also began to close up, the large split down the middle of his bottom lip closing, strings of flesh melding together seamlessly. Overly damaged teeth simply fell away so replacements could take their place.
The feet had grown to match the rest of Garnerges body, new flesh spreading out to mend to the already existing skin. Kael's heart sunk when he heard the thunder coming from the beasts chest. Could feel the ground move as he brought himself back to his feet. Kael turned only to get a large backhand that sent him flying, and skidding across the ground and into a wall.
"Impressive, creature. Maybe you ARE different..but you will still meet the same fate.."
Kael had lost his weapons sometime mid-flight. He was struggling to get back to his feet when he was simply bulldozed by a charging Garnerge, destroying the wall at the same moment. A hand clamped around his ankle and Kael tried to hold on for dear life, digging his fingers into the floor, but he was still yanked back, ripping away his nails why they were at it, and tossed like a toy and hitting the ground with a wet thud.
Garnerge approached leisurely, lifting the great foot of his and driving it into Kael's sternum. And then again. Kael coughed, blood spouting out of his mouth. Kael reached up, almost pleading with Garnerge. Kael's wrist was vice gripped, the middle finger of his hand ripped clean off. Kael howled in agony.
And his consciousness failed him.
Vyran AKA The Assassin Var'Qo Zaat
Location: On the roads just outside of Jakka's Crossing, Libertia
Date: Month 6, Day 15
Time: Between the first and second hours of the morning (Sometime between 1-2 A.M.)
What is that? A lightning storm?
Looks like it!
But what's that black globe? Ink?
Don't know.
Stay away from it, Vyran! Don't you dare think about it!
Too late!
He already did!
...Hew, nay, Danza, no longer lived...
Such a phenomenon usually have bad news—
I umm.. feel like we had this conversation before!
I agree!
Indeed!
We've seen this!
But was it the exact same thing?
Not sure!
Premonition!
What?
Ridiculous!
Back then, when it happened more than a month ago, from Kein, was a premonition of what's taking place now! A forewarning of sort!
What do we think it means?
We don't know!
Fate?
What?
Destiny...
Ludicrous!
Turn the carriage around, Vyran!
Get away from it!
One cannot alter what is laid before them!
But one can always take a different route!
Not as easy when one is on the road of destiny!
Pshaw!
Silence! He moved!
Vyran shook his head and tore his gaze away from the direction of the familiar yet no less strange phenomenon. He tapped lightly at his temple with the base of his palm, quietening the voices within. There was nothing supernatural about them nor was it in any way a special ability of his. They were simply his own train of thoughts. A mere debating session from the many characteristics he'd conjured within the council of his own mind.
Strong was the urge to just head down in that direction and see for himself what that outworldly thing was. His curiosity kept knocking on the door of his cold heart. Alas, he can't, for he have a mission to accomplish. It have been nearly two months since he'd been travelling now. The pirate attack, the death of Danza and Hilana's attempt at saving the boy, all happened about six or seven weeks ago. Along with the images he'd envisioned with what just happened in Libertia's woods not so long ago. Disguised this time as a merchant carrying herbs, spices and a few passengers; he's not about to abandon the task just to scratch an itch.
So Vyran snapped at the rein and hasten the already exhausted exotic beasts onward, startling the resting small crowd inside the carriage behind him. “Hey! What's the rush, old man!”
“We're.. almost.. there.. Sir..!” croaked his reply.
The street thief Sashashi
Location: Pompoe, Libertia
Date: Month 6, Day 15
Time: The eighth hour of the morning (8.A.M)
Pompoe
"...So ya know what I did?" Shasahi asked. She was sitting on the rooftop of an inn, surrounded by some urchins. Spread out among them was a blanket and some food and drink, all stolen from the very inn they were sitting atop. She held up one of her small black grenades.
"I rolled one of these lil' buggers into t'kitchen and waited for one of them cooks to step on it. Lemme tell ya, it let loose a bigger stink than Lil' Jimmy there after a bit of cheese!"
The kids giggled, while Jimmy turned bright red. Shasashi chuckled, then threw a bit of bread at the young boy. He caught it and tore a chunk free with his teeth, already returning to his normal shade. She'd been here two weeks already and this little group of children had almost instinctively latched onto her. She wasn't complaining , but it was kinda interesting how everywhere she went, the urchins were led to her.
Perfect for planning break ins. Urchins and beggers both were almost invisible to most of higher society. All of them rich pigs didn't want to think about the poor folk who could use some of the money they had locked away in their homes. She preferred for that money to go where she felt it belonged: Half to herself, and half to the people of the street.
So, the rich and powerful talked about things in front of the poor and destitute that they wouldn't discuss among others. They remembered these things, and passed them along to people like her who could help even the playing field of the economy just a little bit.
For instance, there was a council member here in Pompoe who was just asking to be robbed. Lots of fat to be trimmed away from that pig. But for now...
"Alright, alright, who's ready for another story?" Shasashi shouted over the kids, getting their attention back. The kids quieted down and watched her expectantly.
"So, many years ago, in a land far away from here," and she began to weave another story for the kids to listen to as the hours of the morning passed.
The following was originally posted by @noremac as a collaboration post with @King Ad Rock in the previous IC
Adam Durant & Pirate Crew (Nef and others)
Ziek Sidane
Location: Jakka's Crossing, Libertia
Date: Month 6, Day 15
Time: Between the the third and fourth hours of morning (3:30 A.M.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jakka's Crossing-Nef's perspective
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Yooo hooo, yooo hoooo ashh-shp-pirates life fer meeee.
Ah drwinnk uf da rum ishf-nishe in my tummm, when da guullllls arrr singin
But ah gurrrrlll in da lap, thummmb‘n ‘er twat ish bether, when shesh ah sqeeekin”
Silas sung almost incoherently as the group stumbled back to their camp. He had one arm wrapped around a comrade's shoulder, the other swung wildly and clutched a flask of grog. Nef had offered the group his own highly watered down ration of rum so that they might not think to procure something stronger.
“Gi-hic-ve mee thaaat d-dr drinnk, Silasss...Youu fuckin bastard!” Said a sailor, whose wet, beer soaked hair covered his face.
“GOooofffuck yerself, Yang! I aint sharin this horse piss.” Silas took a swig and spat it in the beggar's face.
“Fuckin hic-‘airy vag lickin Roadalian ho bag.” Muttered the sodden Parshum, as he clenched his fists, “Coxain ain’t even a real fuckin job.”
“You wanna have another go, fish fucker?”
"I take enough shit from you as it is!"
“Shut the fuck up.” Nef’s stern interjection was enough to quail Silas’s rambunctious. The large T’Odis man had a certain reputation.
Silas took another drink. “Neferius….Shiiiyytttt...Why you givin us this weak stuff ffanyways. Where’sh that Rat bastard when yah need ‘em...And why does my fuckin head hurt?”
The night was dark and full of silence. Quiet and still air was marred by a tumult of cheers and jeers coming from a nearby fight club. Only stars lit the treck home. A muggy atmosphere filled with heat and static gave the night an ominous tension. Nef alone, noticed that something was not right. At the far edge of town he stopped walking and listened to the forest. It was too quiet. It seemed as if all the creatures in the forest had fled in fear of some coming catastrophe. “Silas! Check the picket line! And I’m not taking any shit from you on this one.” The other men snickered. Silas gave them an evil look as he went to do as he was told.
In the middle of the night there came a blood curling scream. It was followed by a loud crashing and more shouts of terror. Nefarious was still awake, walking the perimeter. The captain and other officers had not returned yet. “Sir,” It was one of the men on watch. “Grayson is, back...He’s the only one…”
“What in Azae do you mean?” Nef growled.
The quartermaster lay on the ground clutching his side. Leading out of the pool of torch light was a dark trail of blood. Screams of agony erupt from the town, less than a mile away. Grayson breathed in rasps, “A...Monster.” The old Kildran took his hand away from his side. Four while ribs glistened in the firelight. The wound was in the shape of a massive bite mark. The pirates had seen similar wounds before, but never a bite so deep...And never in the shape of a human jaw. “It was…It…” Grayson closed his eyes. He lay on one side for one leg was twisted at a grotesque angle. The hallow voice fell to a whisper. “Pale white skin...Eyes of fire. It was a demon a monster I tell you...It grabbed me and… and...It fucking grabbed me with just one hand...And...Azae damn it. It was a fucking monster!”
Once, the quartermaster had been a renown knight, or so some said. Such a status fut with his stern and disciplined manner. But the man had snapped, “Unger… My king… Why did you kill me… The death. So many corpses. Oh Marie, I’m sorry! Anthony, I failed you. Oh Azae, why? Must I be reborn to this cursed land?” From the town, Wails of fear accompanied the crippled man’s rambling.
Most of the men stepped back in fear. Never had they expected the stoic quartermaster to lose his composure in such a gruesome way. Greyson was attempting to stand, bloody hands covering his face. He screamed, “That smile. Those evil eyes... The fangs! Azae, curse me! Those fangs. Unger, Anthony, Marie!” Neferios alone approached Greyson The mate put a hand on the raving man's shoulders and shoved a knife into his heart.
“Thanks for playing. Better luck next time.” Nef twisted and pulled the knife free. He wiped the blade clean on his own shirt, so that the other men would remember. A group of four had already gathered.“Wake the crew and gather weapons! Tonight we pillage and burn!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Outside Jakka's Crossing-Adam and Ziek's perspective
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Expanding his arms, Adam spoke with a royal Kildran accent, "We are but humble merchants. You have met our good surgeon, Dr. Izem, his eager assistant is Rat, and the other idiot is Mosi." Adam dropped the accent near the end. Izem began tying a sling around Ziek, not caring to be gentle.
“That was odd,” Ziek thought to himself. Izem, who was blacker than the night, was now putting Ziek’s very tender arm into a homemade sling without a bit of ease. Ziek eyed the man to the left whose name seemed to be the most interesting. The little man had sat on a branch and was opening a tinderbox. The other man Mosi, appeared to be Nomasdae, but he remained too deep in the shadows for Ziek to get a proper look.
"I wish I had more of those damn fire sticks." Rat muttered as he struck a piece of flint across his knife.
"I'm-" The captain was cut off by the scream. The four pirates only shivered at the sound. Ziek got a very strange and suspicious vibe from the whole group. It was odd enough that they seem unfazed from the screams coming from the distance.
"I am captain Durant, but you'd might as well call me Adam."
Izem finished tying the sling. "Keep that on until you take it off." He said sarcastically. "Now, can you stand?"
That was a good question. Ziek went to push himself up into a standing position, using what he now realized was a large, downed tree behind him for leverage. Putting weight on his right foot sent sheer excruciating pain through his entire ankle. His assessment: a particularly bad sprain and possible break. The pain came as a surprise and caused his knee to buckle under his own weight. Izem caught him before he fell back to the ground.
“Stand? Yes. Walk? Doesn’t look like it.” Ziek answered grimly.
Another scream echoed off in the distance.
He scanned his immediate surroundings while holding onto the shoulder of Izem for balance, favoring his right side. It was dense, green jungle as far as his eye could see. He was having trouble pinpointing what direction the shouts were coming from. Where was he? Wasn’t he in Jakka’s Crossing the night before? All he did know was that he wanted no part in whatever was causing those shrieks of pain. There would be no heroic antics made by him, not today.
There was no doubt in his mind that he could smell smoke and wood burning in the jungle air, but there was also another scent now. It was something not as familiar and much more sinister. It took a moment for Ziek to identify the burning aroma, but once he did, his stomach began to turn.
The stench of someone on fire is a memory that never leaves someone. There’s something terribly unique about the way the odors of burning cloth, hair, and human flesh combine.
A pair of glowing yellow eyes and jutting inhuman fangs flashed in his head for just a second, and then was gone as quick as it came.
Two more terrifying cries escaped from south of their current position. Ziek could tell where they were coming from now.
“Gentleman, I think we should start moving away from those screams, what do you think?”
Adam paused in thought. He knew there was something frightening happening this night, "Azae damn you. Can't you remember anything? Did he hit his head Izem?" The carpenter shrugged. "Look around. Do you think a Tra-el did this? I have men back at in town so we are returning...My conscience wouldn't allow me to leave a concussed man out as lizard food. Best you stick with us until you can remember something. Mos! Pick him up!"
Mosi groaned. He had just gotten a shush lit off of Rat's little ball of burning cedar. He took a deep puff before handing it to Rat and going to lift Ziek in a fireman's carry. Rat, the wiry little rodent, hit the spliff then sniffed the air. "Smells like something is cooking. Hi hi hi hi ." His laughs came in little squeaks not uncharacteristic to his name.
Ziek let out a pitiful "Ohh" of pain, as the one named Mosi swung him onto his shoulders with no warning or bit of care. His broken ribs sent extraordinary amounts of pain through his whole torso. Mosi's body-order was a mixed stench of sweat and liquor. After Rat let out his terrifyingly inhuman squeak of a laugh, Ziek answered Adam, only half-joking,
"Oh Azae, leave me for the Tral-el..." Ziek's voice was weak and barely audible; and like that they were off through the forest, towards the screams and smell of burning flesh. Every bump of Mosi's jogging sending waves of sharp ache through Ziek's chest, while he struggled to breath. Grimy, Izem picked the way easily though the forest, only needing to follow the smoke, and the noise, and the terror.
Kael Gilgrend
Location: Jakka's Crossing, Libertia
Date: Month 6, Day 15
Time: The fourth hour of the morning (4 A.M.)
Kael was floating. In fact he wasn't even sure if he was within the mortal confines of his flesh. He felt different. Ethereal. In that moment all of the secrets the cosmos harbored were made clear to him. He saw stars coalescing into spinning clusters called galaxies, which reached out into the darkness with arms that reached out into unfathomable distances into the abyss. He saw worlds. He saw their civilizations. Their rise from their own primordial sludge. To their first steps and first words.
All of their wars and all of their love. He saw the life giving balls of light that these planets orbited expand and turn crimson, and devour these worlds. Erase them from the universe's record.
And then he saw more take their place.
Billions of years of life, evolution and knowledge.
In an instant.
The ephemeral nature of our being.
Love.
Madness.
War.
Resolve. Survive. Rebuild. Repeat.
And then the spectacular globs of light and sounds were gone. Azae's messengers grew silent. Kael found himself standing on a beach, lulling waves crashing behind him. Gulls chirped and bickered but a serenity still fell on Yensa. Before him stood a woman. He had never met her but knew who she was through the stories his father told.
She died many years ago, making the ultimate sacrifice.
Giving birth to Kael Gilgrend.
Her life for his.
Fair skinned with flowing brown hair, she was a true beauty and a jewel encrusted in the harsh Gilgrend name. The small rising at the corners of her lips have her an aura of wisdom, her mouth opened to speak.
Kael listened. But only silence. Such has been the lifelong relationship with his mother.
She stood their, mouth gaping and unblinking. Frozen in a pose of eternal question or perhaps terror.
And then her eyes became red and fierce. A predators eyes as incandescent as the sun. Deep from the bowels of her throat came a roar. A hungry snarl. A monster.
Garnerge.
Kaels eyes snapped open, His visions forgotten. He was acutely aware of the fierce burning from his left hand. A large hand was wrapped around his waist, and toting him like a childs doll. The stench of rotting flesh overwhelmed him. He stared into darkness. Into the literal jaws of destruction, as Garnerge brought him closer to his gaping mouth.
Kael placed the palm of his left hand on the point of the beasts nose and pushed with everything he had. Garnerge simply found this amusing, and became like a child playing with its food. With a low chuckle, Garnerges tongue lolled out the tip flicking Kael across the cheek.
His opening.
Kael seized the monsters tongue with his right hand and yanked, sending Garnerge into a frenzy. The beast thrashed and spun, and Kael used the tongue that had been dried by smoke as a rein.
In a final act of desperation, Garnerge threw Kael to seperate them, but the former military commander was tenacious and refused to relent, the result being the tongue dislodging from the beasts skull with a loud popping noise. It felt like a drumstick being pulled off a chicken.
Garnerge howled, black goo flowing from his mouth.
Kael gathered himself as best he could, half running half limping into the tree line,leaving his weapons behind and not realizing he still had the tongue clenched in his hand.
Within minutes he heard voices deeper within the woods. Something about surgeons and Tral-El. He was still on his feet but moved at a crawl now.
"R..run...run..run...RUN" he gasped and shouted to the unseen folk.
From a distance, Garnerge let out a roar that shook the Earth.
Vyran
Location: Pompoe, Libertia
Date: Month 6, Day 15
Time: the eleventh hour of night (11 P.M.)
On fours the foundations were set
Sight, hearing, words
Rise and fall, pain and pleasure
We study
On twos the pillars were formed
Strength, speed, endurance
Gains and loss, honour and treachery
We practice
And on threes the roof were placed
Experience, wisdom, purpose
Peace and war, life and death
We impart
Cycles of men,
~Anonymous poet.
* * * * *
“He is here!” said a voice from the shadow above.
“Are you certain?” asked the heavily armoured horseback man, steadying his stallion by the tree, without looking up.
“...” a silent reply.
“How'd you know it's him?” he demanded assurance.
“It's easy when you know what to look for!” came the assured answer.
“How long 'til it starts?” he asked, not entirely convinced.
“Under a couple of hours, most likely!”
“Heh! The fool likes to rush into things, eh? He should have taken more time surveying the place!” the man smirked, almost smugly.
“Tch! You know nothing of how our kind operates!”
“I still think...—”
“Enough chatter! Arouse the men and have them in position!”
“...Aye!” he complied, reluctantly.
* * * * *
The wheels of the carriage finally came to a halt. Dirt no longer flying from the stallions' hooves. The exotic creatures then whinnied, emitting clouds of vapour from their flaring nostrils. Exhausted. But this was normal. Even the hardworking stable-boy was accustomed to receiving weary horses. Especially at this late hour. Most of Pompoe's visitors were always eager to set foot into the city. Too eager perhaps for one who might leave lighter than they'd arrived. That's also if, they're lucky enough to even leave at all. For Pompoe is a gaming city. And games mostly comes with bets. And people adored betting! And that leads some to...
With a scrawny hand, the stable-boy rubbed an eye while reaching for the reins with his other. He yawned and looked up to the hooded figure seated up front. A pouch of coins came flying his way. The boy caught it and was wide awake as soon as he did, clearly satisfied with the weight in his hand. He flashed a row of chipped, black teeth before burying the pouch into his shirt.
“I'll take good care of both your horses and wares, sir!”
“I... know... you... would, ...lad!”
The boy watched impatiently as the old man struggled to get off from the carriage. Looking to the back, he noticed most of the passengers have already exited the vehicle. Get a move on already, he wanted to say, but out of respect — mostly for the pouch of coins he'd received rather than for the elderly — he decided to remain quiet. As soon as the veteran rider had both feet grounded, he patted the side of a stallion's neck and led them towards the stable, ready to free the leathers and steel off of them.
“Hey, laddy!” a man called.
“Yes, sir?” the boy spun his head around.
“Where did the old man, went?”
“He was... —” right there not too long ago, the boy thought, scratching his head.
* * * * *
Arsya nodded off for a moment while she was still on her feet. She almost dropped the silver tray from her hands when she woke with a start. Wiping the corners of her lips with her sleeve, she nervously shifted her eyes left and right, hoping neither one of the men had noticed her. But to her chagrin, one of the guards did. Her gaze fell instantly to the floor, coyly.
Why must it always be around the good-looking one?
“Drink!” barked the only man sitting at the head of the table as he slammed the chalice in demand.
The girl hurried forward. She placed the tray down and poured the man more ale. She tried to ignore the oily and food-covered thick digits, wrapped around the cup, especially at the layer of dark soot under each fingernails. The sight never fail in leaving a disgusting aftertaste inside her mouth. Every time.
“Next time..—” Tsaruu Rari started before slurping at the ale greedily, tore a chunk of meat from the drumstick in the other hand and munched through it as he resumed, “dunwaytfurmeto..—” more munching, “asfurit.. Juspor!” the bulky man turned his head towards Arsya, flap of meat under his small chin swayed from side to side as he did. “Yugutme?” he asked, thick and juicy swollen lips smacking against one another, spattering bits and pieces of food all over.
“Ye-ye-yes, Sir!” she said wincing, trying not to appear as disgusted as she'd felt.
“Hmm!” the man nodded as his tiny beady eyes studied the female servant.
“Can-can-can I get you anything else, Sir?” Arsya asked.
“No! Aibesretaryer!” the man raised both his dirty chubby hands inches from his chest as if in surrender, then rocked slightly forward and side to side in an attempt to get out of the custom-built massive chair.
For as long as she'd been working in the mansion, she'd still not grasp what the man was truly saying with all those food in his mouth. But she understood the man's gesture. And that final one meant he had enough. At least for a few more hours. Arsya waited until the man left before she began clearing the table. She sighed to herself at the mess she'd to clean up. She'll need to make a couple of trips to and fro the kitchen.
It's like cleaning up after a pig's sty...
On her second trip back, the kitchen was all of a sudden dark. Arsya had to slow down her pace and squint her eyes for them to adjust as she walked down the corridor. She muttered under her breathe, cursing at both the wind and the fat rodents, blaming both of them for putting out the only light source inside that room. Guilty or not, she didn't care. Plates and pots clanked as she set the tray on the table, then gasped and jumped at the clattering chalice that'd fallen off the edge. Another curse escaped her lips. Feeling her way towards the drawer of a cabinet, she retrieved the flint stones. With her foot as feelers, she made her way towards the candle holder in the corner of the kitchen.
Once, twice and on the third try, as sparks flew, the candle was finally lit. Arsya smirked, impressed by herself. She took a moment to admire the kitchen's interior where light flickered. However, her triumphant celebration was brief. The candle suddenly roared ablaze. The girl gasped at the flame and backpedaled a couple of steps. She watched in horror as the element began creeping down the stand to then crawl across the floor.
Panicked, she reached for the bucket of what she assumed was filled with water, and threw its contents at the flame. Her hope was crushed when her action actually worsen the condition. The bucket must have instead contain something flammable as the flame spread wider, growing, almost as if alive. Arsya covered her mouth. Eyes widened with fear. Stumped for a couple of heartbeats before she finally made a dash out the door, oblivious to the fact that someone have clearly meddled with both causes.
* * * * *
He took it a step at a time, literally, using only his sense of hearing to gauge the distance between him and the master. Why did the man insisted on staying in the master bedroom located in the second story of the mansion, given his physical condition, was anyone's guess. Perhaps it was pride. Perhaps, its something to do with status. Either way, Desdian have long stopped asking himself that. His opinion didn't matter.
Glancing over his shoulder as soon as he'd reached the top, he waited for the man to catch up. Looks were exchanged between him and the next man beside him. They almost rolled their eyes as the huffing and panting sounded. He looked back at the rest of the men, half a dozen more, eight guards in total, all armed and tasked with safeguarding the Council member. Apparently, the wealthy fat bastard who'd no sense of self awareness, had lots of opinions that mattered.
Desdian shook his head slightly, dismissively, with a smile. He then turned and lead the team towards the council man's chamber. Marching in step with the others except for the one in particular, they stride for the door through the quiet and dark hallway.
Dark? It ain't suppose to be dark here!
He frowned, kept his gaze fixed at the doorway and tried to recall if they'd intentionally kept it that way on their way down earlier. His gaze fell to the floor, brows furrowed as he went through his thoughts. Before he realised it, he was already standing in front of the door. His hand reached for the handle, turning it down. But as he was about to push it open, a cry for help came from below. Desdian released the handle, leaving the door to Tsaruu Rari's chamber slightly ajar as everyone turned to face the staircase.
“Well? Don't just stand there! Go see what the commotion is all about?”
“Immediately, my lord!”
Desdian gestured with his head for one of the men to go see what was happening. They could hear the servants and maids running and screaming. Water were being demanded. Fire was being exclaimed. Arsya, Desdian thought; it must have been the clumsy girl's doing again.
“Go see how bad..—” Desdian wasn't able to finish his order when all of a sudden, the head of the guard — who just broke rank to see what was happening — rolled down the front of his body. “Swords!” he barked, while he pulled Tsaruu Rari towards the chamber, motioning for the man to get behind him.
The fire wasn't caused by one's clumsiness... It was a distraction!
The door to the chamber burst open as the frightened council member scurried inside. Desdian and three others followed after him while the remaining three engaged their mysterious assailant. Their eyes widened as a shadowy figure leapt and bounced off the wall of the narrow hallway, spinning, ducking and weaving under every swing they'd thrown his way while spinning their own web of flashes and strikes. The distinct rattling of chains suddenly sent shivers down the men's spine. One after another, their comrade fell.
* * * * *
The guard in the front swung his blade horizontally towards Vyran's midsection. He rolled under the singing steel as it sliced the air. His Graku — sickle — then sunk into the foot of the second guard. The unexpected man yelled as Vyran got back up on his feet, turning his body towards the first while delivering a rising strike with the other sickle, cutting the man's front vertically before the blade buried under the jaw, it's tip exiting through the mouth. Vyran then spun on his heel and sent the still yelling guard behind him flying across the room with a kick to the side of the head.
All in a fluid motion. Swift and deadly.
The first guard crumpled to the floor, his lower jaw ripped from the body to hang bloodily over the assassin's weapon. Fountain of blood sprayed from the man's throat. Whereas the second man flew over the bed, spearing through the pillars to the silken canopy atop of it, to then crash into the bottom of a wardrobe on the other side of the room, with the sickle still stuck on a foot.
Vyran then dashed for the third guard, leaping over the sword going towards his knees. He kicked at the wall nearest to him in midair, altering his own trajectory and made his way behind the third while at the same time, wrapping the loose chain — where its sickle was stuck in the other guard's foot — around the third man's neck. Vyran pulled his hand down while pressing his back against the now struggling strangled man. He looked up just in time to tilt his head sideways, avoiding the blade from the final guard.
His hood gave way, splitting from the clean cut, revealing the assailant's skeleton mask for them to see. Vyran's target stumbled backwards, tripping over himself to then crash into the bedside table. His guard, momentarily distracted, glanced back.
A huge mistake!
Tsaruu Rari trembled as Desdian's head fell to his lap. “WAIT! Wait, please, wait!” the councilman croaked, pleading. “I-I-I'll pay you double! Double of whatever they're offering you! J-j-just spare me! Please! I got gold!” he slapped the head away, kicking the body as he negotiated.
Vyran scooped Desdian's sword with his foot, flinging the blade up into the air before he caught it and threw the weapon across the room. The sword then pierced through the chest of the remaining guard who was groaning at the pain in his foot. Now, finally silenced at the finishing blow. Then, he finished his job, planting his other sickle into the skull of his target right after dropping the body pressed against his back. Tsaruu Rari's mouth fell agape, his eyes rolled slightly up and his body stilled.
Retrieving his other Graku, it was time to make his exit. Vyran headed for the window. But before he could leap through, a flash of steel forced him to raise his forearm in defence. The bolt got deflected by the chains wrapped around his forearm. He frowned and peered out the window. More bolts rained through, dotting themselves along the window sill as well as at the ceiling.
He turned and made for the door. Planning to go towards the opposite wing of the mansion. However, troops of heavily armoured man blocked his path. They came pouring into the hallway from the staircase. With shields out in front of them, and spear jutting, there was no way he could leap over them. They were also packed tightly together. Disciplined. Determined. Trained.
And Vyran got a gut feeling, they were also well-informed..
“DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND GET DOWN ON YOUR KNEES!” their in-charge commanded.
Vyran had no other choice but to comply.
“Apprehend him!” the man ordered. “Try anything foolish and it'll be the end of you, Var'Qo Zaat!” he then turned to another man, “See to the bodies!”
Soon, Vyran was in shackles. Kneeling but still with his masked-face held high.
They knew we are coming!
They were expecting us!
Our exits were covered!
They knew!
Treachery!
Betrayal!
We got back-stabbed!
But who else would know?
The Orders?
No!
Can't be!
Why would they?
But if they knew, why come now? Why come right after the job is done?
Politics!
We are their scapegoat!
They need someone to blame!
The Orders!
They'll deny it! They'll deny having any part in this!
We are caught!
Not good!
Getting caught is as good as dead!
Shasashi
Location: Pompoe, Libertia
Date: Month 6, Day 15
Time: The eleventh hour of night (11 P.M.)
Shasashi strolled through the city market, watching as merchants started setting up their stalls and wares. Gaming city this may be, people still needed a central place to buy things. Stores were great and all, but this... Outdoor markets were something almost every city she'd been to had. A near constant of all societies.
As were beggars.
"Grandpa Romas," she greeted the old T'Odis man sitting on a carpet with a small bowl in front of him. It already had a few coins in it, though she suspected those were placed there by Romas himself. No one ever wanted to be the first to donate, so it was a good idea to start the ball yourself.
Despite his age, the elderly man was still obviously quite capable, save for his blindness. He was a very large, muscular man, with a few obvious scars from his days spent as a mercenary. His skin and hair betrayed his heritage, though his blue eyes were clouded, leaving them milky white, with only a faint tinge of the original color.
"Hello, my child," the elderly man nodded as she sat next to him. He perked up as he head a few coins hit the bowl. "I presume you have questions for me."
"I was wondering what your keen ears might have overheard," she murmured, dropping her head to mimic his position. "A city like this, there must be much wealth to... Redistribute."
"Indeed there is, my child. Indeed there is," Romas replied, shifting his position ever so slightly. "A councilman by the name of Tsaruu Rari holds a great deal of wealth that could be redistributed."
"Tsaruu Rari," Shasashi nodded. That was a name she'd heard spoken by others in this city. A fairly important man, constantly guarded. Would be a fair test of her abilities.
"I've also hear rumor that an assassin has been hired, possibly by rivals on the council," the T'Odis man continued. "Meaning the security at the mansion will be in chaos."
Shasashi grinned. Even better. No one would notice someone as small as herself slipping in and making off with a bit of coin. She might even be able to do so multiple times, depending on how careful she was.
"My thanks, Grandpa Romas," Shasashi thanked the old beggar, dropping a few more coins into his bowl. Romas smiled and gestured his thanks as she walked away quickly.
~~~~~
The sun was just peeking over the horizon as Shasashi slipped over the wall around the Councilman's mansion. She quickly moved through the gardens, avoided guards as they patrolled the area. Clearly the assassination attempted hadn't started yet. Or the assassin was more the type who slipped in and out unnoticed. Less of a statement killer. More serious.
Rather annoying and usually kind of full of themselves for it.
Making sure there were no guards nearby, Shasashi quickly scaled the side of the mansion, clambering quickly up some ivy-covered lattice work. Normally a bad idea, as lattice was notoriously fragile. She, however, was a very small woman, and so the wood was able to hold her negligible weight.
The window to the second floor at the top was open, letting the morning breeze blow in and sweep the stuffy night air from the building. The perfect entrance for a thief like herself. People really needed to learn how to close these.
As she thought this, a maid turned the corner of the hall, carrying a large load of sheets. They were clearly obstructing her vision, allowing Shasashi a moment's grace to slip through a door directly across from the window.
Unfortunately, that turned out to be a linen closet, that the maid opened moments later. Shasashi immediately lashed out, striking the maid in the temple with the butt of her dagger. She immediately crumpled to the floor, with a sick crack as her head struck the ground. Shasashi quickly lifted and shoved the possibly-dead maid into the closet, along with the sheets, and latched the door shut, before moving on.
The house was eerily silent, save for the occasional guard patrolling the hallways. According to the information she'd picked up on her way here, this was expected, as the master bedroom was on the other side of the house. Most of the guards would be clustered around that area, most likely.
So Shasashi made her way towards the other side of the floor, looting rooms as she passed, amassing quite a haul of coins, jewelry, and a few small weapons, all packed away in a burlap sack she'd carried with her into the mansion. A bit stereotypical, yes. But effective.
As she neared the master bedroom, she heard a commotion ahead. Sounded like fighting. So the assassin was the showy type, it seemed. Good. A bit of chaos meant no one would be looking for little old her. She approached the corner of the hallway and peered around, watching the assassin fight through numerous guards while chasing his quarry. Unfortunately, his quarry escaped into the master bedroom, meaning the guards would go there.
Growling in disappointment, Shasashi turned back to go the other way, only to see the butt of a sword flying towards her-
~~~~
"Secure her," the captain called over his shoulder, rushing past. "She's probably involved in what's going on ahead."
Everett quickly pulled his shackles and bound the wrists of the small Nomasdae woman. Or at least, he tried to. The shackles proved too large for her small wrists and hands, quickly slipping over her hands and falling off.
Sighing, Everett looked around for something else that could be used, and eventually settled on tying her wrists together with his own belt, before peeking in the sack she'd been carrying with her. It was filled with gold and jewelry. Huh. Nothing but a common thief, it appeared. Still. Orders were orders.
Looking around the hallway, Everett reached in and pocketed a necklace with an emerald gem when no one was looking at him. The Councilman probably had more jewelry than he knew what to do with. Surely no one would miss one necklace. And Heide would love it.
Location: Jakka's Crossing, Libertia
Date: Month 6, Day 15
Time: The first hour of morning (1 A.M.)
Mhisri found solace every time she found a library. The people weren't bad - in fact, most people didn't seem to mind her at all - but people were dynamic. They were impulsive, unpredictable, explosive. Books did what they were expected, and they presented her with glorious facts, lyrical stanzas, rules. She could feed her hunger for knowledge here, and escape the erratic real world for a little while. She could breathe in ink and dust and breathe out love and perfection. Breathe in, breathe out...
This library was no different than all the rest, in that she was the only one there, other than the bookkeeper. The old man had looked startled, then pleased as she walked in and buried herself in a dusty, lamp-lit corner, just like all the others had. "That's a good one there!" they had all thought as they watched her, occasionally directing her to some section or another. She would return to each library for days, picking over the shelves, delight in her eyes and lips and fingers as she found a brightly colored tome she hadn't yet read, or an old favorite she couldn't get enough of. She would be sad to leave, not knowing how long it would be until she found another. She would be sad to leave this one. She had found a collection of letters between Parshumians and their loved ones in T'Odis during the war, and it brought a smile to her lips. It made her think of her grandfather, and the home she wished they had.
Mhisri sat for a long time reading, learning, wishing. "The Art of Basketweaving" by Raevena Lark - not her most exciting read, but it killed a few hours. She'd paid for her last night in the loft of Mawdry's Tavern, and was on her way to the next town, and hopefully the next library. She'd have to keep close to lakes and rivers so she could pay her way with her fishing, since most people loved the flesh and she sold relatively cheaply. She didn't need much by way of money, and could catch twice as much as anyone else, so she did well. It was a relatively easy living, and relatively quiet. Just the way she liked it.
This night wasn't all that quiet though. In the distance, from where she had come, was a sound like rolling thunder and a taste like fear. If a storm was coming, she would need to find shelter soon. Or maybe she could stay in her cozy corner here in the library and wait it out. The bookkeeper didn't seem to have anywhere else to be anytime soon. He brought her a steaming mug of something sweet.
"Here, dear. It feels like it's going to be a cold night."
"Thank you" she replied. "It smells like honey and Kenunyha."
"Yes, my dear. It'll warm you up."
"Kenunyha is often used as an anxiolytic."
"Yes, well, it tastes pretty good going down, regardless."
"Thank you." she said again, and he walked back to his table. He had a cup for himself waiting there.
An anxiolytic. She didn't know why, but it seemed appropriate tonight. The storm seemed to get closer. It looked like she would be staying here for a while.
The following was originally posted by @King Ad Rock in the previous IC
(This is where King Ad Rock takes over the control of all pirate characters including Adam Durant from now on)
Ziek, Adam Durant, and the Pirates
Location: Jakka's Crossing, Libertia
Date: Month 6, day 15
Time: Between the fourth and fifth hour of morning (4:15 A.M.)
I fell into a burnin' ring of fire
I went down, down, down
And the flames went higher
And it burns, burns, burns
The ring of fire, the ring of fire
~~~
"With me boysh!" yelled Silas, who had kind of sobered up. He was leading five other men with the purpose of hunting down whatever had attacked Grayson. Silas carried a large spring powered harpoon that he was fond of. A battle-axe hung at his waste. Three other sailors carried crossbows and had nets strapped to their backs. Nef was in the back, holding an ornate longsword that had once belonged to the ex-quartermaster. All the weapons were primarily used for battling sea monsters, but they worked just as well on most creatures. The five remaining crew were left to their own devices. One man had stayed at camp.
"Melander guide me! It really is a monster. Oh Azae! It’s going to eat that guy!" One of the men with a crossbow began to panic. The group stopped in awe as they watched the soon to be snack grab the beasts tongue.
"Woah!" Even Nef was shocked when the giant threw the man, effectively ripping out its own tongue.
"UUOOOOOOHHHH!" Crimson sparks exploded from Garnerge's mouth as he screamed.
"Now'sh da chance!" Silas's high energy made him an effective leader in a fight. "Zweal, Goro, Gregory! Flank that thing while I distract." The drunken Roadalian advanced towards the beast. "Hey, fuck face! You want some of this?" Silas held the harpoon at waist level and made some pelvic thrusts in Garnerge's direction.
"Blou splink blou gah bousst blee." The words were unintelligible through the black globules of bile pouring from the beast’s mouth.
"Thought ya'd like dat!" With a twang and a zing the harpoon buried itself in the monster's chest. Garnerge roared again, this time louder. A net flew out of the darkness, attached to three crossbow bolts, and snarled itself around Garnerge's left arm and head. The giant attempted to face the new attackers but Silas yanked the line attached to the harpoon, keeping the beast attention on him. "That's right! Come to papa. Come get so- Oh SHIT!"
Several buildings in Jakka's Crossing had been reduced to rubble by the sizable beast that was Garnerge. Large wooden splinters, some the size of whole planks, riddled both of his knuckles. The beast had used his fists like two tremendous war-hammers, smashing the old wooden buildings as if they were made of mere parchment. He had ripped men, women, and children apart with his bare hands, shoving their limbs and entrails into his ferocious chops. The night had turned into one of those horror stories that soldiers whisper to one another during wartime.
Several small fires were burning around the village now, possibly caused by knocked over torches, or caused purposely by Garnerge himself.
He had tossed his first opponent on this puny rock far into the night’s sky, which had now welcomed a terrifying morning. His second opponent gave a bit more of a fight while cutting him down and ripping his tongue out of his putrid, gaping mouth. Garnerge could feel a terrible itching and burning sensation as his tongue slowly grew back within his jaws. But this opponent too proved to be only good for one round, now defeated and groaning in the grass.
"Hey, fuck face! You want some of this?" screamed another tiny challenger. Garnerge turned his massive frame to face the calling taunt. The minute little man had some type of large and pointed weapon in his hands, while gyrating his hips in Garnerge’s direction in a heckling way.
"Blou splink blou gah bousst blee." Garnerge made an attempt to respond to the curious creature, but his tongue had not yet grown back and globs of coagulated blood flew from his purplish lips.
In a split-second the pointed end of the man’s weapon shot from his grasp and lunged itself deep into the chest cavity of Garnerge, creating a devastating wound. He roared out in a horrifyingly inhuman manner. Some type of trap net mechanism shot from the projectile and wrapped around his left arm and head.
Despite his cries of pain, Garnerge was ecstatic. If his master had deemed it fit to grant him a body with anatomical correctness, his attackers would have seen just how ecstatic. They were fighting desperately for their lives, and there was nothing Garnerge enjoyed more then feasting on the flesh of those who fought back.
"Thought ya'd like dat!" His attacker shouted at him. Garnerge could sense others with the intent of combat moving on his left. The man made a feeble attempt at pulling the gigantic Garnerge towards him. It was a pathetic game of tug-of-war that he had no chances of winning with the beast-man.
"That's right! Come to papa. Come get so- Oh SHIT!" The man’s last words were shouted while flying through the air. Garnerge had tired of his unintelligible mocking, and with a quick and effortless pull of his left hand he both tore the net with ease and pulled his opponent hurdling towards him.
Pinch me
Pinch me
Cause I’m still...Asleep…
Please God, tell me
That I'm still asleep
During the run back to Jakka’s Crossing, Ziek had managed to hook his uninjured left arm around Izem’s chest and swung his body onto the man’s back, allowing him to ride in a piggyback carrying style. Izem was bewildered, angered, and protested the entire time, but Ziek fought for his more comfortable position regardless. The awkwardness of wrapping his legs tightly around his carrier’s waist bothered him not. As they moved through the jungle, he even began slapping the rear end of his ride in jest while giving hearty “Hyahs” into his ear. He was impressed with how Izem handled all of this, for Ziek was not a small man.
But despite the comical façade, Ziek felt a pang of dread deep within the pits of his stomach as they moved closer and closer to the scent of burning corpses. What choice did he have in the matter now? And when they finally broke through the mass of trees into the small clearing of Jakka’s Crossing, his eyes widened in horror. He now knew why he felt the way he did.
Almost as if a key had entered some kind of lock in his mind, the memories of the night before came flooding back to him. The storm cloud, the dark orb that descended from it, and the beast-man that formed from that. His attempted escape up the enormous corl, and the monstrosity’s ability to rip the massive tree from its roots and toss it like a pebble. It was all real.
The entire village was on fire. Every small wooden shack and home was ablaze. Screams of terror and pain filled the morning. Buckets of blood stained the luscious grasses and bushes of each destroyed building. The smell of rusted iron filled the air. There were several piles of bodies collected spots around town. Some were on fire themselves, the smoke from their carcasses lifting off into the jungle. In a hellish display, corpses were skewered onto trees and placed over the sizable fires, many also seemingly made from bodies.
Ziek had seen traumatic battlefields in his days, but this trumped anything his mind’s eye could conjure.
Standing amongst the chaos, every detail of his nightmarish appearance now visible with sun in th
e sky, was the behemoth whose name Ziek could now remember –
“Garnerge.”
His inhumanely muscled back was turned to Ziek, Adam, and the rest of the pirates. At their moment of entry into this macabre scene, Garnerge was swatting a man out of the air as if he were some kind of insect, sending him crashing and rolling into the dirt. Ziek, with his right arm still in the sling and his left hand clutching Izem’s neck and shoulder just a bit too tightly, shakily spoke,
“Turn around… Run the other way, NOW!”
He had only uttered the last word just a decibel above a whisper, but Garnerge cocked and turned his head around as if hearing it acutely. His yellow almost glowing irises and slit-like pupils met and locked directly with Ziek's gaze. Garnerge slowly smiled from ear-to-ear.
“Holy Azae…” This time it was Adam who spoke, the shock clear in his voice as he took in the ghastly view.
"R..run...run..run...RUN!” A voice called out from their right, behind some bushes.
“See? Even the plants are telling us to hightail it out of here!” Ziek pleaded with Izem. A bearded and burly Kildran man, who had looked like he had seen better days, burst through the brush and limped towards them at a hurried but slow-moving pace. He was covered in dirt and small cuts, and blood dripped from both of his fists, collecting in a trail behind him. It appeared he was holding something tightly in his right grip.
Somewhere further back in town, a woman’s voice cried out, audibly crystal clear as many of the other screams had died out by then, “My Child! Oh holy Azae, why did you take my daughter from me!?”
“It’s a person, and they look hurt.” Izem answered, apparently still not noticing the goliath whose attention was now fully on them.
"Look around, dirt-skin. Everyone is fuckin' hurt! There’s a person walking around over there without his fuckin’ arm! Let's get outta here!" Ziek was now shaking Izem by his shoulder and neck somewhat violently to get his attention and show that he meant business.
“Izem! Take a look at that man! Rat! Mosi! Let’s cut this ugly bastard down! I can see Nef and the others on the other side of ‘im!” Adam barked the orders at his crew. Ziek’s demands of retreating would not be taken seriously. Adam drew a long dagger from its sheath at his waist and cautiously made his way forward with Mosi and Rat by his side, each pulling their own short blades.
”Fuck this” Ziek had tried to warn them, and with his warning now ignored, he decided to ditch his clueless ride. Without even a moment to think it through, Ziek released the grip of his legs around Izem’s waist and attempted to put all of his weight on his injured right foot. Flashes of light burst inside of his head as blinding pain sent him crashing into the dirt floor. His tailbone now hurt as well.
“Oh no, pick me back up! I’ve made a mistake!” But Izem, now free from his literal burden, jogged forward to meet with the other injured man, who was now beginning to collapse onto his knees. Izem reached the Kildran warrior and was able to get his arm around his shoulder and helped him back up to his feet. A slab of some kind of meat was still clenched tightly in the warrior’s right hand. It slapped Izem in his puffy cheek as Kael swung his arm around Izem’s neck. Izem looked at the bloody slab with confusion and revulsion. A black mark of goo was left on his face.
“Come, let’s get you to safety.” Izem assured his new companion. He helped the man limp back towards the trees and forest that the group had came from and away from the fiery chaos of the town clearing. As they got towards Ziek, he reached out to them,
“Yeah, me too.” Izem continued past Ziek, ignoring him. “Wait! Hey! Don’t leave me!” Ziek started to crawl through the dirt and grass, on just his uninjured left elbow and two knees, after the two men.
Garnerge and the Pirates
Location: Jakka's Crossing, Libertia
Date: Month 6, Day 15
Time: Between the fourth and fifth hours of morning (4:45 A.M.)
The T’Odis pirate named Nef held his long sword in front of him, trying his best not to shake with fear. He recalled the stories his grandfather told him as a boy of his days lost in the Dark Seas. He told him stories of finding an island of giants and washing up on their shores. His father would tell young Nef that his grandfather was a senile old fool. But now there Nef stood, just over seven feet himself, and this man beast easily had a couple of feet on the T’Odis and possibly hundreds of pounds with its rippling muscular body. The creature that stuffed human limbs into its gullet was not like anything he had ever seen before. And he had seen some extraordinary things in his time with Adam and the others. He now knew in that exact moment that otherworldly abominations could exist.
Nef gathered himself, realizing the monstrosity was eyeing him from just a few feet away, with what appeared to be a grin plastered on its hideous face. The fires in Jakka’s crossing were becoming tremendous blazes roaring around the few survivors with large clouds of black smoke billowing into the sky. He could feel the heat as the sweat dripped down his forehead. Silas was lying some yards where Nef could still see him. His back was turned to him. Nef hoped his companion was still breathing. He held his trusty sword in position, and charged Garnerge with everything he had moving in his legs. Moving closer with each passing step, he watched as his oversized intended target stayed motionless, waiting for Nef’s arrival.
“Now boys! While Nef has the monster distracted!” A voice shouted from a top of one of the few building left in the village that was not destroyed. It came from Zweal, one of the other pirates. Him, Goro and Gregory had scaled one of the nicer and bigger buildings in Jakka’s Crossing to get better vantage points with their crossbows while Silas distracted Garnerge. They had hopped over a railing and gotten onto the second floor balcony. With Goro and Gregory kneeling on each of Zweal’s sides, they shot in unison. The sounds of their drawstrings were almost indistinguishable from each other. The bolts flew from their weapons.
Garnerge did not move, or even turn his head to the sound of Zweal’s voice. Instead, he lifted his left arm in a lazily fashion, allowing two of the bolts to sink into his forearm. The third bolt was from Zweal’s crossbow and was more accurate. It found its way into Garnerge’s cheek, knocking out several of his sharp, wolfish teeth. He plucked it from his face as if it was nothing but a thorn. At this time, Nef had finally made his way to the beast. Summoning the strength of his T’Odis blood, he raised his long sword up high above his head and went for a downward killing blow to the sternum of Garnerge, but the blade would not find his chest.
Garnerge reached quickly with his massive right hand and used his palm to block the blow. The blade of the ornate sword went between his middle and ring finger and dug deep into hand, almost separating it into two halves. Before Nef could pull his sword back and go for another more devastating blow, Garnerge wrapped his gargantuan finger around the weapon as his darkly colored blood oozed from his open palm onto the blade. Acting as if there were no resistance from the other end, Garnerge violently yanked the sword from Nef’s grips.
Nef was mortified, but not deterred. He quickly reached for the dagger he usually kept sheathed on his chest, but he was not quick enough. Garnerge reached out with his left hand, the two crossbow bolts still sticking out of his forearm, and engulfed Nef’s entire head within his fist. The T’Odis pirate tried to scream out, but his cries were instantly muffled out by Garnerge’s palm.
“Fire again!” Zweal called out in desperation. Goro and Gregory had already reloaded and aimed. They pulled their triggers in unison yet again. All three bolts hit Garnerge in the left side of his throat, usually a killing blow, but he again made no reaction to them.
“Nef! Rat! Mosi! Hurry the fuck up! He’s going to-“ Adam began racing ahead of Mosi and Rat to try to get to Nef in time, but stopped dead in his tracks and cut himself off when Garnerge flexed his arm.
Nef’s squirming body became limp in a split second. Blood, chunks of flesh, and brain matter, almost impossible to tell which was what, oozed out between Garnerge’s fingers. His colossal shoulders started to heave up and down. He was chuckling.
“He’s killed Nef!” Adam turned to his two men as he tried to keep his composure. He needed to stay a leader if they were to kill this thing. They had someone to avenge now. “Are you ready?” Mosi and Rat, although visibly shaken, both agreed.
Silas came to consciousness while face down in the earth. He lifted himself up and spit blood and dirt from his mouth. Something wasn’t right. The front of his face burned worse then the nether regions of a Libertian whore. He had never felt a pain like this before, and to make things more curious, there was something invading the vision of his right eye. Bringing himself to a seating position, he brought his hand up and touched what he thought was something stuck to his face. The pain surged to levels he did not think was possible. What he thought was something stuck to his cheek under his eye was in fact his nose, knocked all the way to the right and severely broken.
“Come on you fucks, aim for his damn face! Fire!” Zweal, Goro, and Gregory sent another volley of bolts at Garnerge. Perhaps spurred by Zweal’s words, all three shots found some connection with Garnerge’s head. One hit him in the jaw while the other two found themselves in close proximity on his upper brow. This time Garnerge did turn his attention to the bowmen. He dropped Nef’s headless body, temporarily abandoning his plan to lick his palm clean. He crouched down and bent his mammoth knees into a squat position and in an amazing display, launched himself high into the air in a forward and diagonal direction, towards the building the three men were occupying. His gigantic frame somehow flew through the wind with grace. Zweal and his two allies watched on with obvious looks of fear. Zweal tried to call out to them.
“He’s coming right for us! Jump down n-“ Garnerge came crashing into building like a comet. Debris flew in all directions and the sound of wood cracking echoed out as he disappeared into the hole he created in the balcony and sidewall of the building. The three men who once stood in the now destroyed part of the balcony were gone, nowhere to be seen.
“Son of a…” Silas spoke to himself and trailed off. His nose was destroyed. He would show this demon the meaning of the ancient King Amollus’ Laws of Kildra. Eye for an eye. Limb for a limb.
“Nose for a nose, you fucker!” Silas shouted as he rose to his feet. His harpoon was now gone to an unknown spot. He pulled the battle-axe that hung at his waist and began sprinting towards the building that Garnerge had just crashed into, with a bit of a limp from his previous failed attack.
Mhisri
Location: Jakka's Crossing, Libertia
Date: Month 6, Day 15
Time: The fifth hour of the morning (5 A.M.)
Mhisri was dreaming. They were not of the pleasant sort, however, but of strange contorted figures and unrecognizable sounds. She found herself trying to listen, trying to see. After all, she had read that dreams were just a collection of thoughts, ideas, memories, and external stimuli manifesting themselves during the various restful periods of the brain. She was a heavy sleeper too; her dreams were often vivid. Though she couldn't help but think that this particular dream was more subject to the 'external stimuli' bit. She listened more closely: the unrecognizable sounds became haunting, hollow screams. The contorted figures grew thin and began to become bathed in a dull light. The screams grew louder.
The librarian was shaking her. Mhisri opened her eyes fully and turned her head to face him. Had she stayed too long? Was the library closing? He didn't look angry or tired though. In fact he looked absolutely terrified.
"My dear, you must go, something is coming and it leaves death in its wake!"
"What? What did you say?"
"Go, NOW!"
Mhisri was fully awake now, the reality of her dream weighing in on her. The screams were real, and they were coming from outside, not very far away. The abundance of books lining every crevasse of the library walls had provided a thick, papery insulation that muffled many sounds, including those of terror. Mhisri jumped to her feet, a pile of books falling noisily to the ground, and ran to the nearest window. The librarian protested and begged her to leave again.
"Where will you go?" she asked him as she wiped the dusty glass with her sleeve, peering outside. Fires were blazing, and people were dead in the streets. How could so many people die in such a short time?
"There is a vault - all libraries have them for the more important literary specimens. There is no time for you to leave; you must-"
"There are vaults? In all libraries?" Mhisri asked, distracted. How did she not know about this?
"My dear, we must go, NOW!"
"Go to the vault, and I will meet you there. There are likely people out there who are hurt and need medical assistance, which I can provide. I've read all the books by Wheedin."
"But there are 206..." the librarian muttered, half to himself. He quickly regained his consciousness of the severity of the moment, however, and urged her to reconsider. "There is no hope for them, my dear!"
"There is always hope." Mhisri replied, picking up the book on basketweaving and the mug that held her tea, now only the thick lump of kenunyha leaves.
After a brief moment of recognized defeat, the librarian wished her luck, and headed to the back, making his way down a small set of stairs to the vault, which Mhisri heard open, close, and then seal with a heavy click. It was only a moment later that a fierce crashing sound and its physical counterpart destroyed the roof of the library.
The heavy wooden planks of the roof structure came crashing down with an alarming sound that filled every corner of the library, assaulting Mhisri’s ears and causing her to lose her balance. According to “The Art of Peaceful Combat and Self-Defense” by Bradyn Bhonse, a counterbalance could be achieved with a calculated backwards movement of the left leg, and Mhisri was able to remain standing. The force of the blast caused a rumble to erupt throughout the entire building, however, and the immense bookcase behind her tipped with alarming speed, and, gravity taking its hold, fell heavily upon her, knocking her to the ground in a shower of books and trinkets and bruises. Stunned and in pain, she lay under a small mountain of the shelf’s spilled contents as a figure emerged from the rubble.
Mhisri thought the figure to be only a large man, but the blurred outline of the rising creature kept growing, her unease becoming heavier and more caustic, until it stood nearly the height of two men, and almost as thick. As her vision sharpened and her awareness returned, Mhisri noticed a thick, black substance around the monster's mouth and several crossbow bolts stuck in his arms. He seemed to be interested in the ground around him, peering at the rubble with tiny, blooded eyes. He soon deserted any semblance of carefulness and plunged his hand into the closest pile of rubble, flinging the massive debris toward the back of the building. Smaller pieces fell on top of Mhisri's spine-bound camouflage, pressing the dulled corners of the books deeper into her skin. She didn't dare make a sound. She knew she didn't have the strength to fight this abomination. But she might have the wits to escape.
The monster had found what he was looking for. From the mound of rubble that he had assaulted with his fist he produced a body, which had flown with the wreckage to the back of the library, or what was left of it. The hulking beast walked to it, in only two or three massive steps, and picked it up. The body was limp, clearly lifeless. Mhisri had not seen it before, and wondered if it had been a result of the crash that had brought the monster inside. She didn't have room in her thoughts to wonder long, however, because the monster immediately placed the body in its mouth and, with a sickening CRUNCH had removed the torso from the rest of the limbs, one leg remaining between the creatures lips while the other leg and both arms fell to the floor. He chewed only enough to make Mhisri immediately sick to her stomach before swallowing and breaking loose another section of rubble on the floor. Perhaps there were more bodies, Mhisri thought. How long until he searches her section of the wreckage?
Mhisri needed to get out, hopefully while he was distracted with his body search. The mug she was carrying was shattered on the floor beside her head, close enough for her to push the lump of tea leaves into her mouth without moving many books. For the anxiety, she thought. Now for the escape. Her head was mostly covered, but there were a few gaps from which she could see out. Too much rubble lay heaped up on the floor and edges of the walls; the door would be inaccessible and the windows took too much time to open. The back way only led to the vault, and Mhisri didn't want to endanger the hiding librarian. It looked like her only means of escape was through the gaping hole in the ceiling.
Mhisri calculated the vertical distance to the roof and the difference between that and the height of the bookshelves that were still standing. Luckily the hole was massive and more than one bookshelf was in the ideal vicinity. Her 142 pounds of weight and the right angle would allow for the ability to cross that difference, though not without some effort. The standing shelves were only standing precariously, and she would have approximately 2.6 seconds before her added weight would tip the balance and begin a quick descent. The chair she had sat upon earlier and a minor distraction would be necessary to make it up and out before the monster could reach her, which would be about 3.1 seconds, according to his earlier jaunt to the back of the library and allowing for more speed which would likely be incurred by his discovery at finding something still alive and kicking in the rubble.
Another crash and shower of debris. The monster had found another body. This time he pulled the appendages from their sockets and chewed them one by one, seeming to savor this body a little more than the last. Putrid fluid ran down his chin. Now was her chance.
Grabbing hold of a mid-sized book, Mhisri pressed lightly against her paper cage, gauging the area of the heaviest weight. Finding it to be the space that weighed down between her shoulder blades, she pressed hard against it to make her emergence quicker. Books fell to the floor with a sound surprisingly softer than she had expected. It did not matter - the beast turned his head to see, a red and meaty arm dangling from between his teeth. But she was already on the move. Running to the chair, she jumped, her full weight pressed downward, and sprang up against the adjacent wall, kicking against it and launching herself in the opposite direction, landing about 2/3 up the height of the nearest bookcase, an action which propelled her higher than her own leverage would have managed. She clutched the shelf desperately as she heard the hulking mass at the other end of the room give a frightening chuckle and begin his chase. Just a split second more...
She threw down the book she had picked up, aiming for the unstable leg of a nearby shelf, which took the hit hard and began to tip in her favor. She continued to scramble up her own shelf toward the roof, her weight bringing it down as she suspected, before leaping one final time toward the splintered edge of an exposed support beam. The shelf that had been hit by her book fell now, right on schedule, as the beast reached the target of its heavy wooden structure. He caught it easily, however, and pushed it aside as if it were a bedsheet. But the distraction proved effective in that the second shelf, the one which Mhisri had climbed upon to the roof, now fell as well, its corner landing hard upon his massive foot. He didn't even flinch.
"Was that supposed to cause me pain, human? You will be very disappointed to know that I didn't feel it at all!"
I only wanted you to be hindered, Mhisri thought, as she swung her body to a solid section of the roof, lifting herself with her legs. And I have managed to do that, at least.
Mhisri ran - a grove of large trees was huddled at the edge of the library, and with enough speed and the right degree of force, just like she had read in "The Basic Law of Velocity" by Hugo L'Ironn, she just...might...make it...
The beast burst from the ground below, creating a new jagged hole in the roof, right behind Mhisri as she ran. She had no time to calculate her jump, but was rather thrown from the edge of the crumbling roof, her destination coming toward her much faster than she had anticipated. She hit the trunk of a tree with alarming force, shattering her collarbone and a couple ribs, thoroughly knocking the wind out of her. She managed to hold on to the large branch below her, and continued to hold on tight, the strain on her broken bones causing tears to form in her eyes. She looked up between sweaty wisps of hair.
Where was the beast?
The following was originally posted by @King Ad Rock as a collaboration post with @Kayso in the previous IC
Ziek
Mhisri
Location: Jakka's Crossing, Libertia
Date: Month 6, Day 15
Time: The sixth hour of morning (6 A.M.)
Ziek crawled as fast as he could after Izem and the Kildran he was helping. They made their way to just outside the clearing of town and through the trees. A panting Izem placed his companion against the trunk of a tree. He was struggling with carrying the heavyset warrior. Ziek came behind them, digging through the grass and panting himself. He was still just using his left arm and knee to get around, while dragging his injured right leg behind him.
“I can’t… believe… you left me…. After all… that we’ve been through.” Ziek jested as he found his own tree trunk to prop himself up. He barely got the sarcastic words out between pants of breath. From where Ziek was sitting, he now had an open view of the majority of the village. It was a hellish visual with body parts strewn about the grass and large fires burning almost every structure. The smoke was collecting in a thick cloud above the village in the bright sunny sky. Nearby cities would be aware that something was going on soon if they were not already. It appeared there was no one left alive.
There was one building still in tact about ten yards to the right of the group just outside the trees where the village clearing began. Ziek could hear crashing within its walls. Izem ignored Ziek and looked the man over. While doing this he tried to keep him conscious by talking to him. “What is your name?”
“…Kael…” He coughed out. His middle finger on his left hand was missing and the wound was bleeding profusely, already collecting blood on the dirt beside him. Izem tore a small bit from his pants and tied it tightly around his hand trying to stop the bleeding.
“I need you to hold on to th…” Izem trailed off when he looked at the Kael’s right hand. Clutched tightly in his grasp was a chunk of meat that seemed to Izem to be some kind of gigantic tongue. At the wound point of where it would have been disconnected from whatever it came from was uncharacteristically dark and dried blood. Izem attempted to hold back his gagging. It twitched and Kael jerked in sudden surprise.
“What the fuck is that?” Ziek questioned, now also aware of it due to its movement.
“I think you can let that go now my friend.” Izem said while moving to take the tongue from his hand. Kael yanked his hand back, refusing to give up his souvenir. It seemed he was somewhat out of it, possibly from the pain of internal wounds. Izem shook his head as if to say, “Fine, keep it.” He stood from his kneeling position by Kael and turned to Ziek to address him directly for the first time since meeting him.
“I must go help my comrades.”
“Listen, guy. I think your friends are done for. We should be all working on gettin’ as-“
“You may be right. They may all be dead. But I must go check.” Izem interrupted Ziek while turning back to the burning Jakka’s Crossing.
“Come on! You saw that thing! You’re gonna-“ But before Ziek could finish his thought, Izem ran full pace into the village clearing.
“Die…” Ziek said the last word to himself for Izem was gone and Kael was lolling his head around, in and out of consciousness. “I guess it’s just me and you now, huh?” Ziek asked Kael, not expecting an answer. It was at that moment that the sound of bursting and breaking wood came from the building beside them. Something hit the top of the tree that Ziek was leaning against causing its trunk to vibrate, and before Ziek could react to the very close sound of Garnerge’s roar, a body was on top of him.
The branch Mhisri clung to did not hold and she fell, though the drop was not a long one. As she braced herself for a solid collision, she was surprised when her body landed on something else. It wasn't soft, but it wasn't the ground, and it somewhat lessened the impact. Searing pain ripped through her shoulder and chest and she cried out in pain, struggling to sit up in order to take the pressure off her broken bones. The mass underneath her shifted and groaned, and Mhisri jumped, startled by the movement.
Ziek almost caught the mass of female body directly in his lap. The weight knocked the wind out of him with a quick “Whew!” The woman’s back crashed into Ziek’s right shoulder, still in a sling, and her rear end landed in his uninjured left hand. The pain shot through his arm yet again, but Ziek grimaced and bared it. Realizing who and what was in his hand, he gave a few gentle squeezes and said playfully but breathlessly,
“Oh squishy, thank you, but you need to get off of me.”
The woman was immediately recognizable as being Parshumian, but her hair and eyes were the first things that stuck out in Ziek’s mind when she looked up at him from his lap. Her hair seemed white like a T’Odis, but had waves of purple in it. He had seen people use dyes from the jungle to permanently change their hair color before, but this was more unique. Her eyes were also a piercing crystal blue. Ziek felt like they were gazing into his soul. He had never seen anyone like her before and for a moment he was frozen.
"Hey, I'm trying." she replied, wincing. "Give me a moment; I just fell out of a tree."
"Kael, I think our luck might be turning. Beautiful women are falling out of trees."
"Speaking of that, the odds of me falling out of a tree and having someone underneath to break my fall were about 28,466,159,013 to 1. Your timing was impeccable." She sat herself up, attempting to pull herself onto her feet.
Ziek stared at her in disbelief. “Uh… What!? You hit your head?”
"Mostly my clavicle, sternum, and thoracic region, actually. My head appears to be just fine, albeit slightly concerned at my being groped in such an inappropriate situation as this."
Mhisri stood, clutching one hand to her rib cage, the other against the trunk of the tree to keep her steady. It was hard to breathe. She noticed another man slumped on the ground against the trunk of the tree, an unsettling amount of blood flowing from his hand. She bent over to get a better look, ignoring the pain in her chest, and inspected the wound. His finger was completely gone. It would need to be stitched or cauterized.
A commotion caused her to pull her attention from the bleeding man and look toward the center of Jakka's Crossing. There was the monster, surrounded by a few men who still stood. Could they take him on? Could she help in any way? She could help this man, and maybe the other, who had broken her fall. She needed to get back into the library. She turned to tell the first man to watch over the other while she went back inside the building, but a rumbling sound interrupted her. The walls of the library began to crumble.
"Gigantic beast men that come from the sky and eat people? Probably the end of times? I can see no more appropriate time as this." Ziek joked while squeezing the air.
Ziek watched the walls of the library come crashing down under their own weight in an explosive display. A cloud of dirt and dust kicked up into the air surrounding them.
"Hope no one was in there." He said in a tone that hinted that he really did not care either way.
"That thing came from the sky?" Mhisri asked, an eyebrow raised in unabashed skepticism. "That seems highly unlikely, as he is not of the winged variety, and is far too heavy for any alternatives." She watched him continue his squeezing motion as she spoke. "You are stroking the air." she said to him. "Is fondling women a reflex of yours?"
“When they look like you, and it may be my last moments on Azae, then yes, absolutely.” Ziek said matter of factly.
As Garnerge exploded through the roof of the library, he could see that his destructive exit had caused the creature he was chasing to be propelled off of it and into the forest trees. He used his massive hands to pull his gargantuan frame from the wreckage. Pieces of broken wood, dust, and debris slid off of his head and long shoulders while he rose. With each thunderous step, the wood below his feet crumpled and the building shook. He slowly approached where he could smell the small creature in the canopy. With a deep breath in through his putrid nostrils he could determine that it was a female. Females of any species always had such sweeter meat.
Before Garnerge could leap from the rooftop and into the leaves of the corls right next to the library that the woman disappeared into, a harpoon pierced cleanly through his right shin. The harpoon was attached to a rope that instantly pulled, tugging Garnerge’s leg back. He turned his neck and head, still covered in crossbow bolts, to find the source of the shot.
About twenty yards from the west side of the library, in the middle of the village was Adam, Rat, and Mosi. Mosi had found Silas’s spring loaded harpoon launcher lying in the dirt. He had pulled on the rope and found the harpoon, covered in bits of the beast’s flesh and reloaded it. Now all three men were pulling with their lives on the rope, trying to bring Garnerge off of his feet.
Garnerge mockingly chuckled in their direction. The harpoon had passed all the way through his shin and was pushed up against the back of his calf. With their combined strength, they were succeeding in pulling him closer and closer to the edge. His right leg was raised in the air while left leg dragged and broke wood under his weight. Deciding to give them what they wanted, Garnerge leaped from the rooftop of the library and landed on the ground two stories below in a cloud of dirt.
Adam turned to his two companions and gave them a short speech in an attempt to boost their confidence.
“This beast has killed Nef, Zweal, Goro Gregory, and Silas. We can’t let it get away with that.” Adam was shaking, not with fear, but with another feeling altogether. One that didn’t make sense in this time and place. Adam was shaking with rage. “We are goin’ to rip this fucking thing’s head off and mount it to the front of the ship, do ya hear me?”
“But-“ Rat began to protest, the fear evident on his face.
“I SAID ‘do ya hear me?’” Adam restated the question. His teeth were gritted in obvious anger. Sweat dripped down his forehead to his cheek. Rat and Mosi had never seen him like this before.
“Aye, Cap’n!” the two pirates said in unison. They held their short swords up, on the ready. Mosi looked over Adam’s shoulder, who had slightly turned his back to the beast. Garnerge was now slowly making his way over to the group of men. In an almost epic display, had the monstrosity itself not caused it, the walls of the library began to crumble under their own weight behind him. The building came down almost in an instant, sending clouds of debris following Garnerge as he slowly moved towards them.
“He’s comin for us!” Rat yelled while pointing his sword in the behemoth’s direction. Adam quickly turned to find Garnerge picking up speed and closing the distance between them at an alarming rate.
“I guess he doesn’t feel like wastin’ any time! Ne’er do I!” With that said, Adam began the charge at the oncoming murderous creature with no hesitation. Pausing only for a slight moment to exchange glances that said more then they ever could with words, Mosi and Rat followed suit. As the three pirates got closer to the beast, Rat and Mosi widened the gap between them to try to flank Garnerge’s sides. With just a few yards between the opposing parties, the two men swiftly slid to their knees with the gained momentum from running behind them, and slashed away at his legs. The blades of their short swords sunk deep into the bulging muscles of Garnerge’s calves.
Mosi was able to make it by untouched, while Rat met a much different fate. Garnerge grabbed the pirate by his torso with his colossal hand as if he were nothing but a child’s doll, and tossed him like a living pebble high into the Libertian sky. Mosi watched in horror as his friend flipped around in the air, gaining so much propulsion that he disappeared over the Swazi Forest, his screams fading out in the distance.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Mosi did not have much time to even comprehend Rat’s terrifying death when a swinging backhand from Garnerge’s left fist struck him with the force of a boulder and sent him soaring off his knees and into the air himself. He hit the grass with a sickening limpness as his limbs flailed around like loose chunks of meat.
At the same time that Garnerge was making quick work of Mosi, Adam, who had ran in a straight line, had reached his target with a leap into the air with his sword drawn and pointed at the middle of Garnerge’s hulking chest. The tip of the blade pushed through the skin despite the strong resistance. Adam tried to put his entire leap into the thrust in an attempt to break through the sternum. The sword struck Garnerge’s bone and stopped suddenly. Adam yanked on the sword in an effort to pull it back and strike again but it was firmly stuck in Garnerge’s chest.
More mocking guffaws game from Garnerge’s monstrous vocal cords as he raised his blood-covered fist to bring down on Adam’s head. Adam gave up on his struggle with the sword when he released the hilt to his weapon and without wasting time, dove into a barrel roll through the opening of Garnerge’s legs.
There was no time to think for the pirate captain. The roll was almost flawlessly executed, and with an exploding jump, he was instantly upon his feet in a run from Garnerge. He had no plan. He had no weapon. His entire crew was dead. Yet there was still this nagging feeling in the back of his mind, cutting through his more serious and sudden thoughts. It was a voice that was telling him to go back and fight the unstoppable creature. An unexplainable rage burned deep within his chest and mind. But it was not this voice that caused him to stop dead in his tracks and turn around, but another more familiar one coming from behind him,
“SOMEBODY HELP ME! CAPTAIN!! HELP ME!!”
The dirt kicked up from Adam’s hasty skid to a halt. The voice was Izem’s, who Adam had forgotten he had left with the Tral-el hunter. But now there he was, inside the clutches of Garnerge. Had he attacked the beast while Adam was running away like a coward? He did not know. Izem was shouting, screaming furiously, and begging Azae for his life.
“AZAE! PLEEEASE! NO!NO!NO! OH GOD!”
Both of Garnerge’s gargantuan hands were wrapped tightly around Izem’s entire body with only his head and shoulders visible at the top and his feet dangling from the bottom. Garnerge was looking at Adam’s long time friend as if he was a child with some kind of treat, licking his lips in anticipation.
“ADAM!! HELP ME BROTH-“
What came next that silenced Izem was the most gruesome sight that Adam had ever witnessed. Garnerge opened his mouth in an unbelievably wide manner, and in a split second, brought his teeth down on Izem’s face. He did not take the pirate’s head in one chomp, instead taking the entire front portion of Izem’s face in a single clean bite, ripping it off as if were a mask to be detached. The last bit of skin stuck to the throat and eventually stretched and ripped like an undercooked piece of bacon. Fresh crimson blood sprayed forth from the skinned, writhing mug of Izem and covered the forehead and eyes of an ecstatic looking Garnerge with a red mist.
It was clear from the body convulsions and gurgling sounds coming from where Izem’s mouth once was that it was a not a quick death. Garnerge slurped his latest victim’s face skin with a frightful grin. Adam was frozen where he was while watching this, not being able to get his mind to take control over his muscles and continue to flee. The naked giant that had taken the lives of the brothers that Adam had held dear.
Blood mixed with saliva seeped from the corners of Garnerge’s mouth as he chewed. With a swallow, he was ready for his next, more filling bite. He brought his massive jaws down with a repugnant “click” of his jagged teeth on the neck of the still wheezing Izem, taking the pirate’s whole head now into his mouth and decapitating him. Garnerge chewed the mass in his cheeks with stomach churning crunches of Izem’s skull with each maneuvering of his jaw.
Adam watched on, his gaze never breaking and his feet never moving. Smoke filled the air as most the fires burned all around them. Not a cry or scream could be heard in the village anymore as they had all died out. The only noise left was the roar of the fires and Garnerge’s loud chewing. Then, in a trance like state, Adam called out to the still feasting Garnerge,
“What are you…?”
Garnerge looked up from his bloodied meal after tearing into Izem’s chest cavity with a look of interest. Unidentifiable organs hung from the sides of his mouth. Instead of swallowing his mouthful, he spit the disgusting contents onto the Libertian earth so that he could answer the pitiful creature,
“I am the one who has come to rid this rock of its festering life.” Garnerge’s words were unexplainably more articulate and understandable now. “I am the one who has come to bring a slow and painful death to each and every one of you delicious bags of flesh.”
Adam let his muscles succumb, dropped his weight, and fell to his knees in defeat. The beast did not give him a direct answer, but it was satisfactory either way. Garnerge was curiously eyeing the captain. After a moment, he tossed what was left of Izem’s corpse to the ground and made a slow stroll over to Adam. As Garnerge approached him, stopping a mere two feet from him, Adam’s eyes slowly closed. He could feel Garnerge’s hot breath from his nostrils. He tilted his head back slightly and his mouth opened to let out a whisper of two names:
“Maria… Chassi...” They would not get the life he had promised them.
Adam awaited his fate. To join his brothers in death. But all he heard and felt was Garnerge’s chuckle yet again, stomping, and the ground shaking beneath him.
He waited.
And waited.
And nothing.
Adam finally opened his eyes after what seemed like an eternity. His head darted back and forth, desperately scanning what was left of the village.
The beast was gone.
Silas had watched Garnerge fly into the last intact building in Jakka’s Crossing like some kind of comet. He hobbled on his injured legs after him as fast he could with his battle-axe still drawn. The blood was now gushing from the open wound in his face where his nose once was. It was pooling into his mouth and in the back of his throat in alarming amounts, but it bothered him not.
In normal circumstances, Silas would have turned tail and fled after regaining consciousness, but a baffling rage was burning deep inside him. An urge to gain revenge on this inhuman garbage that destroyed his face and disfigured him for life that was too primal to ignore.
It took him a bit with his limp to get to the newly created entrance to the building with the destroyed wall. Silas struggled but successfully climbed over the wreckage and knocked over wall to get inside. Once inside, he discovered the building was a pretty elaborate library. The insides of which were now destroyed. Most of the tall shelves were knocked over or broken in half completely. Books and papers covered the floor to the point it was barely visible.
What Silas didn’t notice was that several of the supporting beams for the building were also taken out.
Above Silas, on the second floor, came the commotion. He laid his eyes directly on Garnerge just as the beast was exploding through the ceiling of the library. Silas took a deep breath in and bellowed out to the beast in a frenzied manner,
“HEY YOU STUPID, UGLY BASTARD! COME DOWN HERE AND GET ME! LET’S FINI-”
Garnerge either did not hear Silas’ taunts or did not care, for he continued his ascent to the roof through the newly created hole he just bashed in.
“Aye, you fuckin’ coward…” Silas trailed to himself. The stairs to the second floor were also brought to pieces on Garnerge’s initial entrance to the building, although it looked like Silas could use several bookshelves knocked into each other to climb onto the second floor.
While gingerly making his climb up the shelves, hoping not to dislodge anything and send the whole thing crashing down, Silas continued to grumble to himself,
“I’m goin’ tah cut off his nose an wear it roun’ my fuckin’ neck, I am… Giant fucker will remember the day he me-“
Before Silas could finish the thought the piercing sound of wood cracking and breaking under weight cut through his ears. It was in this very last moment that he realized what was happening.
“Fuck…”
The walls and roof of the library came crashing down.
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