Author: Deathaxe
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A long one!
It was getting dark. A figure sat perched on the edge of a building watching the city as it fell into shadows. The area around him was practically deserted, nearer the center the city never slept, since Shiro’s demise crime had fallen considerably and it was once again safe to walk the streets. Well. Fairly safe. There were still places nobody wishing to maintain bodily functions would tread after nightfall. It was in one of these places the figure now stood. The only reason that his organs had not been rearranged into a highly elaborate wall painting was the rather sharp knives at his waist, the garb of the Am Fah, and probably most importantly the 30 or so shadowy figures standing behind him. The Am Fah had taken a blow, it was true. But they were still there, still a presence to be reckoned with. In the gathering dark the silent watchers felt this was a point that needed to be made. Generally at the edge of a knife.
If only someone would actually turn up.
A sudden crash made the group look round, the remnants of a dust-bin rolled merrily into view before falling off a ledge and out of sight. A voice floated up to them.
“…thought I saw something…”, it was a heavy voice, the sort you would generally hear singing hilarious songs about of beer and women, preferably mixed together in a big jug, at three o’clock in the morning.
“Yes Kira, you did, it was a dust-bin, as a rule they’re not dangerous”. This voice belonged to a woman; there was something slightly frightening about it, perhaps because the watchers felt their weapons rust at the sheer force of sarcasm.
“I’m sure I saw something move…” came the slightly put-out reply.
“I think you probably did, it would certainly explain why this cat is so petrified” this was a third voice; it spoke in a bored monotone of a person who has seen pretty much everything, and shot it to stop it eating him.
“What cat?”
“The one currently attached to my head”
“..Oh, not sure how I missed that”
“Quite”
“Gar take that damn cat off your head, you look ridiculous” Came the woman’s voice once more. A nearby chimney exploded.
“I don’t seem to be able to, I think it’s scared of Kira, plus it keeps my head warm”
“You look preposterous; we’re supposed to be incognito for Balthazar’s sake”
“I think it’s quite a good disguise really, when people see me they’ll think “that guys got a cat on his head, what a pillock”, they’d never think I was trying to look inconspicuous” replied the one apparently identified as Gar.
There was the sound of a hand striking a forehead, and a sigh.
“Ok, let’s keep going, we need to be at the fallen siren by midnight or we’ll miss our contact”
“Deathaxe…” said the deep voice who seemed to belong to someone called Kira, “do you have any idea where we actually are at the moment?”
“Cantha” came the reply after some thought.
“Well, yeah, but more specifically?”
“In the imperial city”
“We’re lost aren’t we”
“No”
“In what way aren’t we lost?”
“I know exactly where I am…only the landscape doesn’t seem to” said the increasingly angry voice.
“Bloody tourists...” muttered the dark figure who had sat listening to the episode below with mounting bewilderment. He made some swift movements with one hand and his squad spread out in all directions, surrounding the unfortunate group. These idiots had wandered absent mindedly into the heart of Am Fah territory, and were now broadcasting their position by kicking about architecture and having arguments about small furry animals. Even if he wasn’t a cold hearted killer he felt he would be inclined to do away with these morons simply as an act of public duty.
They were still arguing by the time everyone was in position, with a silent signal the 30 or so Am Fah dropped silently down the floor and drew their weapons.
Seeing the group clearly for the first time the figure saw that there was in fact four of them, swathed in black cloaks, one of which did indeed appear to have a cat wrapped around his head. He stepped forward into the half light and brandished a dagger at the newcomers.
“Stand and deliver” he whispered in his most dastardly voice.
It did not achieve the desired effect.
“Look, I told you, it said the Fallen Siren was in the center, and that’s where we’re going”
“How do you know that? this place is so huge the center could be anywhere”
“Well then we find an edge and work out way inwards!”
“The edges could be miles away, isn’t there an information point around somewhere?”
The Am Fah cleared his throat.
“An information point? This city was in the grip of a plague until recently, it was on the brink of destruction!”
“We’ve passed at least three star bucks and a burger king!”
“That’s of no consequence!”
Right, the Am Fah had had enough of this; he raised his voice and shouted
“OY YOU!”
A figure turned, judging by its frame it was the woman.
“What?”
The word was wielded like an axe; he felt the reply die in his throat. Part of his brain was jumping up and down attempting to get his attention. It was the part that had kept his tree dwelling ancestors alive, the part that told them to run when faced with something 6 foot long with big teeth. The part that could recognise a wolf. And this woman was just that. A wolf. Shaped like a human, and now that he thought about it, carrying a very functional looking sword at her hip.
“erm….” Muttered the suddenly uncomfortable mugger.
“We could always ask this guy for directions?” said Kira happily.
Ask him for directions? Another, newer, and significantly more naïve part of the man’s brain flared, he was a squadron leader of the Am Fah, this was his land, he would not be brow-beaten by these.. these…tourists…
“There’s only one direction you’ll be receiving from me...” he sneered, attempting to put as much venom into every syllable as he could.
“Great! We only need one really” said Kira beaming, the threatening undertones making slight whooshing noises as they soared over his head.
He’d had enough, with one hand he gave the signal to attack.
Shadows danced across his vision. He opened his eyes. He had a few blessed moments before the memories returned to him; some of them were quite colourful.
His sluggish brain remembered images, dancing across his brain as if its animation budget had ran out. There had been thirty of them. Which is why it came as quite a shock when only half a dozen of his fellow Am Fah actually charged from the shadows at his command. And then there was the actual fight, if it could be called that. He saw Al’reco, his best warrior attack the wolf-woman, she hadn’t even drawn her blade but had simply stepped lightly aside, dodging the blow before punching Al’reco firmly and precisely between his legs. He’d felt the walls shudder with the impact. He doubted Al’reco was still alive, but if he was, he would certainly wish he wasn’t.
Another image flashed in front of him, he recalled running past Al’reco as he fell, and seeing two of his comrades square off against the big figure he assumed was Kira. He wasn’t sure now if it was just his brain acting up, be he remembered one second the amiable man facing his attackers, and the next there was an axe arcing through the air, cleaving them both in half as easily as if they were made of smoke.
At that point he had made an executive decision not to personally attack one of those two. Instead he made for a figure that had yet to be identified. A tall man wearing considerably finer cloaks than the others, apparently only showing faint interest in the proceedings. He had a moustache. Such men were not to be trifled with. But it was either that or risk having his groin punched through the back of his spine.
He had leapt.
And at this point, the memories got a little fuzzy. He remembered jumping at the man, daggers held high, and he remembered their eyes meeting. Then suddenly a raccoon in a top hat had landed on top of his head. He’d lost his balance, and fallen to the ground. But the ground wasn’t there. Instead he fell headlong into a bowl of porridge. Thousands of miles wide. There were raisins.
He closed his eyes, attempting to keep himself afloat in the porridge. But there didn’t seem to be any porridge to swim in. He opened his eyes again. He was lying on a flat plain, stretching as far as he could see. And every single inch of land was occupied by penguins. Every single one of which it seemed, was trying to sell him car insurance. At this point he knew something was wrong. He started running, pushing his way through the infinite cloud of penguins, but he had not got far before the penguins rose up, standing on each others shoulders they seemed to form a gigantic shape, which grew and grew until it towered above him, blotting out the sun. It was the shape of a chicken. It went “BAWK!”
He shook his head. He could feel more memories flowing in but ignored them. No he had not been chased down a hallway by a regiment of photocopiers. No he had not played chess with a goose. And lost. And no, he had definitely not been part of a progressive folk duo, the other member of which was a duck, called David.
He closed his eyes, willing sleep to come and obliviate all that he’d seen. In the darkness the man dreamed. Of a chicken as tall as the world. It went “BAWK!”
“Nice of that guy to give us directions in the end” said Kira jovially as the group made their way towards the centre of the imperial city. Some time had passed; no one had tried to relieve them of their valuables or lives. Word had got around.
“Once he had calmed down and stopped shouting “bawk!”” replied Deathaxe
“What did you do to him by the way Ben?”
“Hmm?” said the Mesmer, who seemed to be deep in thought.
“Oh, nothing really, I just gave him full access to his own imagination.”
“He didn’t have that already?” asked Kira
“Oh no, not many people have, those that do tend to either be incomparable geniuses, or start going on about chickens” said Ben
“or both I suppose” he continued “most people only have access to…well, if the average mind is a raindrop, the average potential of the human brain is about the size of the sea of sorrows.”
The group thought about this. That was quite a lot of chickens.
“Meh, they weren’t all that dangerous anyway, remember back when we first came here? There was hundreds of the buggers” said Kira
“There was close to thirty initially” came a new voice; a fifth figure was now walking with them. He had been there all the time of course, but the Am fah hadn’t noticed him. Mainly because he was in fact standing a few feet behind them for most of the time.
“I was wondering what you were up to Wyld, where are they now?” asked Deathaxe with the air of one who wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer.
“Stuffed into various chimneys I’m afraid, I couldn’t think of any other way of muffling the noise”
“I see, anyway they won’t be bothering us again, and we’re nearly at the meeting point if I’m not mistaken” she said happily. The crowds were getting thicker and the lighting more prominent as they made their way towards their destination. An inn by the name of the Fallen Siren, where they would be meeting their contact, who could, with careful prodding, tell them where they might find the lost shrine of Lyssa.
Legend had it that there was a fourth realm of the gods, besides the underworld, the fissure of woe and the realm of torment, there was supposed to be a world where the Lady of Illusion was said to dwell. And this lost shrine was the door. It had sounded interesting, there might be something to nick. So since Gwen seemed to be handling the war with the charr quite happily herself, she had even calmed down a bit after Deathaxe had knocked her through a wall for shouting too much, Deathaxe had gathered a few of her guild and set off to Cantha.
“Here we are” she announced as she spotted the sign above a door depicting a woman, falling off a cliff. Who said Canthans lacked a sense of humour.
They stepped inside.
It was dusty, dark and in the corner a man sat at a piano playing eerie music. In short it was the kind of place for secret meetings. So Deathaxe sidled up to a man at the bar and whispered, in the most conspiratorial voice she could manage; “the ebon hawk flies at midnight”
“But the eloquent badger knows not how to ski” came the reply almost immediately.
Deathaxe paused. “…are you sure the fallen lion doesn’t dance in the dawn?”
“Nope, definitely eloquent badgers, I think you want that guy over there” he said, pointing further along the bar. She scowled, and stomped off to the man indicated, pulling him roughly round in his seat and staring him straight in the eye.
“You’re not going to tell me about badgers are you?” she snarled
The man, taken aback but rallying magnificently said “urr, not if you don’t want me to lass”
“Good, would you agree with me that the ebon hawk flies at midnight?”
The mans eyes widened, “oh aye, that they do, and the fallen lion dances in the dawn as I recall”
“Excellent” declared Deathaxe in satisfaction, taking in the man's appearance for the first time. He was fairly tall; with a beard you could lose a rake in, an eye-patch covered one eye.
“Right, so anyway what can you tell me ab-“ She was cut short as a suspicious voice asked “you don’t happen to be a pirate do you?”, the voice belonged to Wyld, who had stepped forward and was now standing beside Deathaxe, he used the term pirate like anyone else would use the term child-murderer.
“…aye, I may be, whut of it?” asked the pirate.
“Just wondering…” replied the ninja.
Something clicked in Deathaxe’s head. She swallowed. And dived under the nearest table. There are some stories, some legends that have power in themselves. Some occurrences that if they didn’t happen…well…the world just wouldn’t be right. A handsome prince, upon finding a castle guarded by a dragon, will always climb to the tallest tower for the sleeping girl, because if there wasn’t one…what was the point?
And everyone knew, when a ninja and a pirate meet…well….
The rest of the bar’s occupants followed Deathaxe’s lead, those closest to the door bolted out like demons were hot on their heels, those less lucky fell to the floor and tried to think flat thoughts as they hid under tables and chairs, there was a crash as the barman jumped out the window, and an abrupt clanging noise as the man playing the piano opened the top and threw himself inside.
The two, oblivious to this were staring at each other with such ferocity the air between them started to vibrate. A moth floating lazily across the room flew between them, and exploded.
There was a final clatter as the last of the occupants, a man with priorities, who had taken the opportunity to drain every glass in his immediate vicinity had collapsed into what is generally known as the “oh shit I’m going to die” position. Ergo, rolled into a ball and whimpering slightly.
The furniture started to vibrate. The rest of the room appeared to dull in colour, as if someone was altering the contrast. In comparison Wyld and the informant were blazing, literally. Small fires had erupted around them. An audible humming sound came from the tortured air directly between them.
“Arrrrrr” commented the pirate, his voice taking on strange harmonics that caused the glasses behind the bar to smash.
Wyld sneered. The roof directly above them exploded and bits of plaster floated around them, caught up in the tempest that was forming around the two.
“YARRR!” roared the pirate as the tempest gathered speed, drawing his cutlass which burst into flames as he brought it through the air in a downwards arc towards his adversary. There was a blur, and silence, for a second. Before thunder rolled in the bar. The world exploded. The ground split below them, huge chunks of earth tearing themselves out of the ground and crashing into the surrounding walls, white fire roared around them in a tempest, and at its centre. Stood Wyld. Holding the sword by the blade.
The pirate’s eyes widened.
Time stopped, the assassin didn’t need it, his free hand moved in a blur, bringing his fist to bear like the wrath of gods he punched the man straight in the chest.
A deafening crash echoed around the city as the blow landed. To say it killed the pirate would probably not be adequate. It would be fairer to say it erased him. Every particle of his body was ripped apart and scattered by destructive force that would have shattered a glacier. Toppled mountains, hell it might even of made a dent on Deathaxe’s ego. The ground in front of Wyld was ripped up and twisted in a horizontal vortex which tore through the wall opposite him and gouged huge rents in the street outside, picking up more debris as it passed before smashing into more buildings.
About thirty seconds passed before silence fell once more.
Deathaxe stood up, brushing dust off her cloak.
“What have I told you about killing our informants before they get a chance to tell us anything!?” she snarled at Wyld, who hadn’t moved, and was glowing slightly.
“Never quite understood the whole pirate, ninja thing myself” mused Kira, appearing from behind the remains of the bar holding several bottles of beer.
“seems a bit silly really, so one says “yarr” a lot, spends all his time on a boat and steals stuff, whilst the other wears black and throws shrikes at people”
“there’s more to it than that” said Wyld, his voice had a slight echo, like he was talking from a long way away.
“Like what?” asked Kira
“….shut up” replied Wyld, his voice returning to normal.
“It’s kind of like cats and dogs I guess” supplied Ben, who had been hiding behind a curtain.
“They just hate each other for being alive”
“Erm….” Said Gar, who against all reason, still had the cat attached to his head.
“Something like that” agreed Wyld
“…urr” supplied Gar
“Right, so we’re going to have to work out what to do now” sighed Deathaxe
“I fear that might be out of our hands now...” said Gar quietly.
The group looked quizzically at him. So he pointed at the ground, wracked as it was from the sudden battle.
“Oh…” murmured Deathaxe
“Fuck” agreed Kira.
There was a general scrambling to get out of the bar, but it was too late. With a deafening creak the tortured ground gave way, and the group fell into darkness.
“Blarrrgh” said Kira. It was hard to swim in full plate armour. Gar grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to the edge of the…whatever the hell they were in. Water should really go ‘sploosh’ when you hit it mused Deathaxe as she followed the struggling pair. Which is why she was distinctly worried when the party landed in it, as there was a chorus of various glooping noises, and one ‘shhhk-WHUMP’ when Kira hit. Of course there was one gloop missing, replaced instead by the sound of tearing silk, as Wyld shadow-stepped a foot from the viscous surface, reappearing at the edge. Smug bastard.
Once they were all out they appraised their situation. They appeared to have fallen into the undercity, in fact they were lucky to have landed where they did, it was quite a drop, they couldn’t see the floor from which they had fallen.
Of course they were now coated in viscous smelling gloop-liquid.
“Gah, this stuff smells vile….” Muttered Ben. Who then pressed his hands together and closed his eyes. A slight breeze rolled around him for a few seconds. Then to general surprise every molecule of dirt and grime shot about an inch from the mesmer's frame making a ‘whumph’ noise, hanging there for a second before being picked up and carried away in the soft breeze.
“….how did you do that?” asked Kira in awe.
“It’s a mesmer thing” replied Ben, who was inspecting his nails.
“…erm, you might want to take a look at this guys...” said Wyld some way off
“What is it?” asked Deathaxe, who was getting annoyed again, she seemed to have sat down on an alligator that was about to eat her.
“I think you’d best come and see for yourself...” replied the assassin.
“this had better be fucking worth it” muttered Deathaxe as she got off the alligator with an unpleasant squelching noise, and set off into the gloom, the others at her heels.
“….ah” she said after a few seconds. No one was that lucky surely. Before them stood a delicate looking structure, the centre of which was dominated by an intricate stone loop, there were statues on either sides, statues showing two female figures, intertwined.
The group was silent for a moment. Deathaxe drew her sword, tossing off her cloak as she did so. The others followed suit, armour was uncovered and weapons were drawn. They stood perfectly still for almost a minute, before they heard it.
Deathaxe smiled. Some time, somewhere, there would be a temple, and object of importance, or a hostage that was not guarded by some horrible creatures. But she doubted if she’d ever find it.
There was the sound of many feet moving through the darkness. Well, perhaps feet were an approximation. There seemed to the rattle of claws as well, and the disembodied clump of a tentacle.
“Oh dear” muttered Ben as the first of the Afflicted loped into view.
“I thought they were all dead…” said Kira
“Apparently no one told them” replied Deathaxe with a grimace.
“Are they real?” asked Kira hopefully
Gar stepped forward, strung his bow and pulled; the group felt the pressure as power was gathered. The arrow glowed white. He let go.
A faint line traced the movement as it flew straight through the chest of the foremost afflicted. Who exploded.
“Yeah pretty real” confirmed Gar.
“Bollocks” supplied Wyld.
“Alright, we know how to deal with these creatures, they’re just your generic zombie, except they explode” said Deathaxe.
“Check” said Gar, as he loosed a volley of arrows at eye-blurring speed into the on-coming horde. There was an answering cacophony of explosions.
Deathaxe and Kira stepped forward, bringing their weapons to bear just as the first of the afflicted arrived. Kira dispatched it with a swift chop to the chest which separated its…upper blobby bit from its lower blobby bit, both bits soaring backwards with the force of the blow to explode on its brethren. Deathaxe stepped forward, a growl beginning in her throat, bringing her blade upwards in a slow arc. At its apex the air around her changed, became charged, lighting licked around the blade as she brought it back down to her side. Force rippled around her, her hair moving as if it was underwater, catching the flow of energy. She charged. Blurring with speed she shot through the afflicted, bringing her sword round so they were torn into pieces by her passage. Kira followed to her left, his axe leaving a trail of flame that burned into the retinas. Moving so fast the air around him heated up with the friction.
A screech slightly ahead told her Wyld had joined the fray, the assassin danced through the crowd, moving even faster than the warriors, arms blurring into complex patterns which left afflicted falling like confetti.
She turned, blocking a rusty axe with the flat of her blade before grabbing the creature by what passed for its throat, and throwing it bodily into the crowd. As usual, there didn’t seem to be an end to the buggers. With a roar she dived deeper into the fray, heading to join Kira, who was only visible by the occasional glint of an axe as he rampaged through their ranks.
Some way back, Gar was making a slow advance, firing volleys into the horde whilst their attention was on the fighters, occasionally disembowelling an enterprising afflicted with a point blank shot, splitting the creatures into fragments.
Ben on the other hand, hadn’t moved, instead he stood with his eyes closed, an expression of concentration on his face.
There was something coming.
He looked for an opening.
A lone afflicted had managed to get past the warriors and Gar and flomped towards him making squelching noises.
“Blaaaargh!” screamed the creature as it lifted an arm warped into a club, ready to strike.
The mesmer’s arm moved in a blur, striking with his empty hand as if he was wielding a sword. For the faintest second a purple outline shone through the air.
“Urk…” murmured the creature. It fell to the floor, undamaged. But dead none the less.
The Mesmer opened his eyes.
The ground trembled. Kira turned in time to see a decaying claw erupt from the earth.
“Blaarrrrggh!” shouted an afflicted to his left,
“Blaarrrrgh!” he agreed, and cut its head off.
“Death, we’ve got a big one here!” he shouted towards where he guessed Deathaxe was, judging by the torrent of afflicted being tossed into the air.
“What is it?” came the muffled reply.
Kira turned back; more claws had appeared, followed by a scaly arm, two of them in fact, and a head.
He gulped. “…dragon” he said, almost to himself.
“Oh for Gods sake” roared Deathaxe in frustration as the rest of the creature emerged from the ground. It wasn’t one of the Canthan dragons, elegant, twisting wurms that soared through the sky. This was an old school dragon, all bulk and bad temper. It held back its head, and roared. The cavern shook.
Deathaxe snarled, absent minded catching a rusty blade in a gauntleted hand, tearing it away from the afflicted, and disembowelling it with it.
“Right…” she said, making up her mind, taking the blade out of the exploding afflicted and tossing it over arm at the dragon for good measure. It made a clinking noise as it reflected of its hide.
“Wyld!” she shouted, and was answered almost immediately by a cloud of purple smoke and a hand landing lightly on her shoulder. Her stomach lurched as she was pulled into the shadows, reappearing with a jolt on the creatures back. She’d never get used to shadow stepping; it felt being pulled backwards through tar. For some reason.
She lifted her sword, aware that Wyld had leapt ahead; landing lightly on the creatures head, and brought it down with all the force she could muster. She felt it shudder, then roar once again, filling the cavern with visceral rage as it turned, attempting to get a glimpse of its attacker.
With a roar Kira took advantage of its movement to leap onto its flank, driving a long sword he had attained from an afflicted into its hide and hanging on. The dragon snarled, turning once again, thrashing its tail attempting to dislodge this new parasite. Meanwhile Wyld had drawn both daggers and had began leaping around its scaly head, striking wherever there was a chink in it armour, attempting to put its eyes out. The creature reared, shaking its whole body from side to side attempting to dislodge its attackers. The warriors hung on, digging their blades deeper into the creatures hide, Wyld balanced right between the creatures horns before punching downwards with an ear-splitting crack, just as Kira brought his axe round in a furious swipe, cutting the edge of the creatures tail off as it tried to flick him off.
The ground shook as the creatures front legs landed once more. A second later Gar’s ‘broad head arrow’, as close to a hammer an arrow can get, hit it right between the eyes. There was a sound like a gong, hitting another gong, falling down a cliff into a valley filled with gongs.
It blinked.
And breathed in. It had had enough. Flames roared all around it as it breathed out, the ground bubbled as white hot fire rampaged around the cavern. There was a selection of fairly distressing sounds as the remainder of the afflicted burst.
It reared once more, spreading its wings before twisting its body so sharply the blades of the warriors came free, sending them reeling backwards to land twenty yards behind the creature. With a further twist of its head, it caught Wyld in the chest with one of its horns, knocking the wind out of him and sending him sprawling to the side. It was pissed; it roared once more and turned to look for something to squash.
It saw Ben, who still hadn’t moved. It snarled, digging its claws into the ground it ran towards the solitary figure. The Mesmer looked up, apparently non-plussed by the several hundred tonne monster rampaging towards him. It got within flaming distance, opened its mouth. And the dragon's and the mesmer's eyes, met.
The light in the dragons. Died.
Nobody is every quite sure what exactly a Mesmer does in a battle situation. But they’re always damn glad when they do it.
The dragon hit the ground at the mesmer's feet, shaking the cavern to its foundations.
There was silence.
“Tricky one” mused Ben after a while. “Very strong mind, took me ages to find an opening.”
The others had caught up, Deathaxe and Kira covered in bruises and gore, Wyld walking gingerly, still reeling from being swatted out of the air.
“Well, that could have been worse” said Deathaxe after a while.
“How?” asked Kira incredulously
Deathaxe thought about this.
“There could have been two of them!”
“Fair point” conceded Kira.
“Haven’t seen a dragon like that in years” said Gar, who somehow, still had a cat on his head. It had the look of a creature that had passed through fear and entered the entered visceral terror. Its eyes were open to its full extent, and didn’t seem to want to close. It looked like an owl.
“Right, well we’ve found what we came for, lets take a look” said Deathaxe, and they walked into the long lost shrine of Lyssa.
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