
The Day the Wind Died
#121
Posted 04 September 2011 - 12:04 PM
The treatment soon stopped when Synile fell, drawing Ken's attention as well.
#122
Posted 09 September 2011 - 01:08 PM
"Synile...?" Eivor called out with hesitation in her voice. It wasn't long ago that she learned first hand that he was dangerous. In the last few minutes, his drastic change in posture alone was enough to fill her with terror. Something was clearly wrong, and yet he was between the group and their destination. No matter what they were witnessing, they had to go either through him, or with him. "Synile, is something wrong?" Eivor's voice betrayed her fear this time.
In the distance Synile began stretching. It looked like he hadn't used his muscles in some time and was assessing their status. He cracked his fingers, then his neck, and cast his gaze back on the group.
"Dammit, Synile, you're scaring her!" Jordan yelled. He was obviously in pain and fed up with the madman. Synile turned his gaze to Jordan in particular now, and smiled. The smile was hollow, and the dead look in his eyes gave it an air of danger. This was definitely not Synile as usual.
"So noble, this one. A confident tone suits you." Synile's voice was the same, like everything else, but the way he spoke was different. There was nothing to his voice. No emphasis. No passion. Nothing but words spoken in a manner of fact tone. "Calm down. She'll still respect you. She doesn't know what a failure you are at protecting the ones you fight with. Hmmm. Well, I guess she does now. Sorry to spoil the surprise." Synile grabbed for the nodachi on his back, and drew the blade slowly, without ever taking his sight off those in front of him. "Shall I remove that confidence surgically, Jordan? Well. I don't need my sword for that. You make picking you apart so easy. Oh yes. Synile wasn't paying attention back in the Labyrinth, but I heard the talk you had with Steel. Looking for someone, eh? Someone you've let down... multiple times... Do you think she'll forgive you? Have you properly atoned? Perhaps there is too much to atone for." The smile was gone from his mouth now. "Look at yourself. You can't even cross a bridge without help. We left... what, yesterday? And you're already covered in your own blood. The only thing you're good for is hurting the people you think to protect."
"Leave him alone!" Eivor was the one who yelled this time.
"Hm. It seems the whore is capable of opening her mouth as well as her legs. That's the only reason she kept you around. If she valued something in your personality, she'd be with you right now, wouldn't she?" Venom dripped from Synile's mouth as if it was his true weapon, as if pinpoint precision guided the arrows of his words to their targets. Jordan, however, had had enough. Synile's words had hit their mark. Jordan in one motion stumbled to his feet, threw his arms forward, and stumbled to the ground once more. The effect was immediate. A huge gust of wind sprang up as if from nowhere and hit Synile with enough force to remove him from his feet. Synile flew through the air several feet, and hit the ground multiple times, eventually rolling to a stop.
Synile pulled himself to his feet once again in the same unusual manner as before. He wordlessly takes the sword in his right hand and stabs it into the ground. With his left hand Synile reaches towards the shadow cast by the blade in relation to the sun. His fingers seem to pierce the shadow as if it were a tangible substance. He pulled and stretched the shadow until it was something large enough to soak his hand in. He sank his right hand into the void, and allowed his left hand to let the shadow go. It snapped back to its natural state, but left some strange substance coating his right hand. Synile swung in a backhand motion, and the substance took flight as if liquid. The liquid solidified into shards as they flew towards the party.
Without bothering to see if his attack was effective Synile grabbed his nodachi once more and returned it to the scabbard on his back. "Well. I'm still going to head to Koridai. Perhaps I'll see you folks there?" Synile was barking a mirthless laughter as he quickly disappeared down the mountainside, leaving the group to fend for themselves."
Edited by Synile, 09 September 2011 - 10:20 PM.
#123
Posted 10 September 2011 - 03:59 AM
That was until he felt a spike of very familiar energy.
His eyes snapped open, and he haphazardly readjusted his hat as he sprung up into a sitting position. His startled movements didn't go unnoticed by Nia, who was restringing her bow. "What's wrong? Bad dream?" she asked half-jokingly.
"You wish." Shadow replied. "I just felt a bit of Lazu's power."
Now he had everyone's undivided attention. "Lazu's!?" Simon shouted. "Where!?"
"From the mountains." he told them. "...And judging from experience, if I can sense Lazu's power, then something bad is usually happening."
"Well I don't know about you, but when I think 'Lazu,' I think 'Goddess.'" Ryu said, now staring intently at the base of the mountains.
"Even if it's not Chikara, it's worth checking out if it's Lazu-related." Shadow said, now fully-awake and look at the point of the mountains where he felt the energy. "Step on it, Jakob!"
"Yes, sir!"
With a crack of the reigns, the horses were now riding at full speed through Calatian land...
Edited by SL the Pyro, 10 September 2011 - 04:02 AM.
#124
Posted 14 September 2011 - 01:48 AM
"Your hands . . . " She said.
Jordan looked down to his hands, raising them up to his face to examine the new wounds. He wasn't thinking when he created that gust and the wind manipulation backlashed on himself. The numbness he felt all over his body dulled the pain in his fingers, but the damage was superficial and he shoved his hands in the snow to wipe off the excess blood.
"It's nothing. Just check on Ken please."
As the girl took her time to treat Ken, Tsume coming to help her in anyway he could, Jordan looked off in the direction Synile left. This wasn't the first time he acted like this, maybe it was a long time coming. What was more disturbing was how he talked, it was as if he were a completely different person.
* * *
Solomon's continuing investigation on the various denizen's of the Arbiter's Grounds had come to an end after inquisitors had been processing people the night before all until mid afternoon the following day. To everyone's pleasure, the executions had stopped for the day as well as many of the people remained in the bondage of the inquisition's prisons. Solomon himself had thanked the various inquisitors and templars who had made this effort possible, many of these men bowed respectfully but were so ravaged by guilt internally that after the Grand Marshal had left the premises they proceeded to show physical signs of their internal ailments. They just had to keep reminding themselves that this was for the good of the people, or to admit that they were too afraid to stand up against what was going on.
Solomon finally returned to his humble chambers and rested after all his efforts to purge the city of all he believed was destroying it. As he rested, many templars and soldiers who had not been aiding the processes and trials were focusing on the clean up of the city. It was their orders to remove and clean all the rubble and debris from the major city streets from the other night's explosions before the morning of the following day. With little to no time to dabble in distractions, the soldiers took to the vacant streets and began to break down and remove the debris around the city entrances.
Within the Arbiter's Spire, much of the clean up had already taken place before Solomon had even arrived. The entire structure was in shambles but it was in prime condition to be rebuilt at a moment's notice. Almost all internal activity had been focused on the night before and the spire which was always so busy with the goings on of the nation's government had come to a complete halt. Only guards placed uselessly at the entrances of every room inhabited the sparsely populated structure while many of the wounded or dead had been cleared from the higher floors and relocated to the ground levels, the parade grounds or in other "repossessed" buildings made into makeshift hospitals.
A man in red, slightly tattered robes and a maiden in dull grey attire covered in dust and spots of blood softly stepped through the scarred black marble and sandstone halls, finding their way to a common room that was reassigned to the Inquisition after the incident in the previous office left that room in charred and in shambles. Inside, the arch-inquisitor Lucien looked out one of the small windows in the gray room and turned to find Inquisitor Gervais and the nurse Gwen in tow.
"This is her Gervais?" The arch-inquisitor asked.
"Indeed sir." Gervais replied, tired from having to help Gwen help the wounded and dying for a good portion of the night. His sly and clever manners of speaking were too dulled and tired to be exhibited.
"You may leave us Inquisitor. I would like to have a word alone with the maiden."
Gervais, not one to directly disobey the orders of his superiors, looked surprised.
"Sir?" He asked in vain curiousity.
"Need I repeat myself Gervais? GO." Lucien replied, his cold and curt response straight to the point.
Gervais did not compose himself as he bowed and left the room, leaving Gwen and the arch-inquisitor alone. Lucien studied Gwen with his eyes, he figured that Gervais would choose a woman based solely on her appearances. But what the arch-inquisitor was taken back by was her composure. This woman has most likely seen the worst of some of the damage and death that had happened within the walls of the spire. Her garments were covered in filth and her golden brown hair appeared tousled and rough.
But her eyes were clear. Stern. Perhaps even cold, but he saw a great empathy in her that would not benefit a cold person. Gervais had chosen well.
"What is your name girl?" Lucien asked.
"My name is Gwen." She replied, not bowing in respect like her retainer had done. Lucien, paid no mind to her lack in courtesy.
"Do you know why you are here, Ms. Gwen?" Lucien asked, folding his arms behind his back.
"No sir."
"Then I shall be the one to tell you why it is I have gone through the trouble of saving you from a dungeon cell. Ms. Gwen I need to ask something of you."
"What is your request?"
"I ask that you save this city."
* * *
After cloaks and rags were made into makeshift bandages, the party walked solemnly down the mountain side following the faintest traces of Synile's footsteps. Eivor's head had been facing the ground for some time, everyone had noticed for a while now. Jordan walked slower, not trying to keep up the pace like he as earlier. He didn't seem to mind it was much now, in light of recent events.
"Why?" Eivor asked outloud. Everyone turned to her as she stopped in her tracks.
"Why did Synile say those things? What happened to him."
Everyone looked at each other, trying to find an answer in the clueless faces around them.
"We don't know." Jordan replied.
Eivor looked at him, her eyes shouting for more than the acknowledgement of ignorance and mystery.
"The man was a drunk and nutcase. He finally snapped. I figured it would have happened eventually. And it seems to me that he doesn't want to be in our company anymore. That's all there is to it."
"He wouldn't just abandon us! That wasn't normal."
"Well he did! No one is forced to be here right now! Synile left, he's gone bye bye now! DROP IT ALREADY, would ya?!"
Eivor stopped talking and broke into tears, falling to the ground. All the hateful words and all the stress finally came out as the others came around her to comfort her. Jordan took a step, only to feel the guilt of making her cry hold him back.
"Oh c'mon, stop crying! I'm not the one who called you a whore!" Jordan shouted, frustrated by the whole ordeal.
The others turned around looking disapprovingly at Jordan who was only making things worse. He rested his head in his hands and rand his bandaged fingers through his hair. As he looked up, he thought he saw his doppelganger look on at him from the distance. The green armor was unmistakeable over the white contrasting background. Instinct ran down his spine like a spark as he recognized the form. He was almost ready to call out his weapon raising his arm to pull his spear from it's carrying bag but then as suddenly as he appeared, he blinked. As his eyes opened again the double wasn't there. Gone. The only thing that was left was the tears of a woman.
#125
Posted 14 September 2011 - 04:41 AM
This was worse.
They were tearing into each other, ripping peaces of that stuff that words can't describe out of each other.
As the tears leaked from the young lady, Jara couldn't help but start shouting at the sky. Swearing, using old profanities and making up new ones as he went along.
This wasn't right.
#126
Posted 23 September 2011 - 04:20 PM
As Solomon slept, he had a dream.
It was a quiet dream, not a nightmare or a fright. He was dressed in his imperial armor, red light armor and a red cape flowing slightly in the breeze as he held his blood sword to the light of the sun. As he finished examining his blade, he noticed that he was in the presence of the Goddess and the Quadrate within the confines of the mirror chamber. Steel the Umbra, on the highest wall of the Colosseum that surrounded them leaped down with agile grace to the ground below, landing swiftly with almost feline grace. Solomon would normally wish to rip him to pieces, but the malice wasn't with him this time. Drake Uni Amirales emerged from the shadows, his large outstanding body stopping as he stood in the light and crossed his arms. Even Toan Avinai, the Pope of the church of Koridai, was present. The extraordinary Zora whom wore white robes like a priest. And finally, the tiny goddess stood at the top of a podium, the first step to the stairs that lead to a massive mirror as black as night.
The mirror chamber, the most sacred place of all of Koridai where the Goddess and her chosen met to discuss the growing powers of her nation and the distribution of her will. No one spoke as they looked upon the large mirror, white runes glowing from it's obsidian surface as it reflected the image of the five within itself. The light grew ever more impressive, until the entire chamber was covered in a great light. As this glow faded, Solomon looked on to find that day had passed into night and he was the only one left in the chamber. The full moon lit the chamber from above, the open air roof the Colosseum structure letting in a light breeze. Solomon did not feel despair for his loneliness but looked on at the mirror to see that the white runes surrounding it were still lit. He approached the mirror, starting on the small stairs that led to the top of the podium on which it rested. As he reached the mirror, he did not see his reflection but that of the goddess, smiling at him warmly like she did in the days gone past.
The Grand Marshal awoke from his sleep, seeing the light come through the large window in his room. He slowly removed his sheets from his body and walked over to the window. He placed his hand on the glass, looking down on the city. His thoughts rested on his dream. He was uncertain of what it meant. Put perhaps the mirror would tell him.
* * *
It was uncertain when things quieted down and everyone became silent again. It might have been when Jara just let out his voice. No one quite saw that one coming. They had gone a considerable distance despite injury and trauma, there were even patches of earth that wasn't completely covered in snow. Unfortunately, there was no lodge to stay at this evening so they would have to resort to making camp between three very large boulders that broke the wind rather nicely. The area was cleaned out and a dead tree provided perfect wood for the night's fire. Unfortunately, there was nothing for food and their rations were so frozen that they couldn't be eaten properly. So they waited for them to thaw.
Sitting around the fire, huddled in cloaks and blankets as the cold crept on them the party looked despairingly or indifferently at the fire. All except for Jara, who was looking at the stars above them. It was a curious thing to see when Jordan looked up to notice this. He thought about breaking the silence then, asking Jara just what it was he was looking at in the sky. But he didn't. He couldn't bring himself to speak then. Insisting he distance himself from the group, he got to his feet and grabbed his spears, using one to use as a walking stick.
"I'll take first watch." He said.
No one objected, not even Eivor who had chastised him earlier for acting to brashly. Jordan walked off from sight into the darkness around them. Jara, looking away from the stars noticed Jordan was gone and eventually got to his feet as well.
"I'm going to follow the boss man." He said, humming as he left to track Jordan down.
Edited by JRPomazon, 05 October 2011 - 11:50 PM.
#127
Posted 24 September 2011 - 01:57 AM
Jara sang out into the nether hoping to hear a reply.
"The lady told me she dun like you no more. Said you's turned into an ass hole. "
#128
Posted 26 September 2011 - 01:26 AM
The light from the fire could only illuminate so much of the darkness that had begun to creep around them. Jara walked along in the snow and unintentionally bumped into Jordan's back, the sudden obstacle causing the old man to fall back on his rear. He got to his feet again, dusting himself off from the clumps of snow that had collected on him and realized that it was Jordan's form he'd knocked into. He was a little afraid and cringed as Jordan turned around to see the old man behind him. He looked back at the old man, his face showing signs of irritation but quickly turned away and began to bottle his pent up frustration. He walked on his patrol, Jara walking behind him.
The events of the past 24 hours had all been steaming inside him, as each step that crunched in the snow he felt it harder and harder to contain his frustration.
"Jara, go back to the fire." He said.
Jara refused, humming to himself and walking loudly. The bard was becoming another annoyance. Jordan attempted to deal with his companion's company and asked once again if he would turn back to the fire. The bard began to hum louder. And louder. To the point where he was almost screaming with his mouth closed. Then, Jordan finally snapped.
"STOP HUMMING, DAMN IT!" He shouted, his voice echoing throughout the mountain. The bard was quiet then, flinching back as the sound overwhelmed his own. Slowly, he stepped back in front of Jordan and regained his calm composure.
"Go back Jara." Jordan said, running his free hand through his hair.
"Just go back to the other and leave me alone."
Jara refused to cooperate.
"You dun care I told you the lady dun like you no more?" The bard asked humbly.
"You dun feel bad you called her a nasty name?"
Jordan's overwhelming frustration had made him manic. Clenching his teeth and his hand, he could no longer contain himself.
"I didn't mean to call her that! Jeez, how am I the bad guy here?" He asked Jara.
"Well, cuze you called her a whore boss-man." Jara replied in a frank manner.
"I DIDN'T CALL HER A WHORE, DAMN IT!" Jordan shouted, swing his spear into the snow to use the pent up rage in a somewhat physical manner. Without his support, the injured warrior fell over into the snow and wracked his body in further pain. He held himself back from shouting in pain but his pain expressions in the moon were vivid enough to notice. Jara stood idly by, unable to be of much assistance as Jordan slowly attempted to get himself on his feet again. His eyes were welling up with tears as he grunted and forced his aching body to respond to his actions. Finally getting himself from his face down position in the snow and facing Jara again, he promptly sat in the snow.
"I never wanted to deal with a traveling party. I just wanted to go and travel again."
"Travelin' boss?" Jara asked, catching Jordan's attention.
"Yeah. I'm looking for someone."
"That the person the crazy one was talking smack about?" Jara asked again.
"Yeah . . . the very same." Jordan replied, clenching his wound in hopes that the pressure would alleviate the pain.
"Things aren't working out for any one of us, huh?" Jordan asked, looking away from the bard.
"I can barely tell what's going on anymore."
"Don't know? You ain't much of a boss, eh ya boss-man?" Jara replied, playing with the snow as he stomped around.
Jordan slowly got to his feet and gingerly got his balance back as he leaned on his spear.
"I never said I was." He replied to the bard.
"People tend to think that I am though. Ain't it strange?"
The two slowly made their way back to the fire when the sudden crash from the trees above. The sudden emergence of a mountain beast covered in white fur covered in snow and ice, a Wendigo bearing his fangs at the Whirlwind Spear.
#129
Posted 03 October 2011 - 07:02 AM
The thing was deadly. Jara knew it.
The thing looked at the boss man, and then at Jara. You could tell that he was thinking who the easiest kill would be.
He launched at Jordan with his massive fangs ready to bite.
At the same moment Jara leaped between the two.
The beasts' fangs caught Jara in mid air and stabbed him right through the skull, killing him instantly.
The Whirlwind Spear stood there frozen. The beast was no longer wanting to attack Jordan, because it was now feasting on what was left of Jara's corpse.
Jordan turned and walked away, further into the night.
#130
Posted 05 October 2011 - 11:49 PM
This wasn't right. There was nothing that could be done.
- - -
Night had descended on the scarred capital of the Empire. A day of toil had reached it's end and so it was the the imprisoned people of that city did sleep knowing that the nightmares they conjured were nothing but a whimsical fantasy to what awaited them in their shambled homes and crowded cells. While some slept others wept for their losses and misfortunes. The death of a loved one or the loss of a home. Everyone experienced one or the other or perhaps both if such a fate was theirs to bear.
In a dressing chamber formally used by the goddess herself within the heights of the Arbiter's spire, Gwen was dressed in a long scarlet gown looked into herself in a grand mirror bordered in fine metals and gems meticulously crafted to exhibit the finest elegance human hands could create. It was as if she was gazing at someone else from another world, a place so fantastic and foreign that it couldn't possibly be real. She held her hand to the cowl that wrapped itself around her neck, feeling the fine fabric against her fingers and brushing against her brown hair. Her arms were covered by elbow gloves of the same color of her dress, fingerless to allow her bare flesh to touch to world around it only made her feel more foreign to herself. It was a sort of luxury she had never dreamed of being offered or given but it was awarded not for her satisfaction but for the role she would fill.
"You look ravishing." Said Inquisitor Gervais, coming in unannounced and as silently as a breeze. His flattery was sincere, although Gwen was not amused or flattered.
"I'm happy you agreed to do this, it would be a shame for such a dress to go without a beautiful woman to wear it."
His words were saturated with a sickening sweetness. Gwen closed her eyes and took a silent but deep breath, preparing for another round of the inquisitor's presence.
"Is there more to be asked of me today? The sun has set and there is only so much energy I can give." The woman replied.
"No no, you are free to do as you will. I just coming around to check on you, making sure you didn't have second thoughts about all this." Gervais replied, looking at the fine decor of the room as the gold shined in the glow of the many lights that illuminated the room.
"You . . . are aware of what you are doing I hope?"
"Rest assured Inquisitor, I am aware of my decisions. You may leave now."
Knowing full well that his presence had become a bother the Inquisitor bowed and left the room, hiding a crude smirk as he took his leave. Gwen turned to the mirror once more and saw her reflection. She returned to her train of though. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be real.
- - -
He couldn't hear anything now, the wind had died down and his steps were silent. He thought he was on his way back to the circle, to the warm fire that he wanted to return to so badly. But he was lost. He didn't know how he botched things up as badly as he did but somehow he was lost in the cold night. Trekking over the craggy surface of the mountain he used his spear to keep himself up. Everything about this day had just been bad. He attempted to take another step and slipped. Falling wasn't anything new, the impact wasn't anything to mention either. But it ached the same way it always did.
Then Jordan cried. He knew he was crying, the tears were the only thing he could feel on his cold face. Then he shouted. His screams were muffled into the earth but they echoed throughout the mountainside. Then the silence returned. The moon began to shine through the clouds. He slowly got to his feet again, not bothering to wipe the dirt or the tears from his face.
"You can't run from the truth."
This voice. This sensation. He turned around to find himself staring at his double, wearing his armor and wielding the spear of betrayal as his form was once again basking in the moonlight. Jordan looked on, speechless and awestruck.
Edited by JRPomazon, 06 October 2011 - 02:02 AM.
#131
Posted 06 October 2011 - 12:02 AM
The ex-general was cursing his luck tonight. Had that spike of chaotic energy emerged sooner, it wouldn't have been nightfall by the time he got to the base of the mountains... he couldn't feel it at all now, and in the night it would have been impossible to see if the source had even crossed paths with them, if it even moved. Shadow didn't like the possibility of having been right beside it and not noticing it.
Well, maybe he'd have more to ask the people of Calatia about now. It didn't hurt to have more than one discussion topic in case he needed to - pardon the pun - break the ice.
"Sir, there's a campfire ahead."
Jakob's notification dragged Shadow from his musings. A campfire? That meant people. At the mountain's base though? And at this time of night?
"Let's pay them a visit... the horses need rest anyway." It was true: they would need their full strength for the treacherous terrain ahead.
They headed towards the campfire.
And for the second time in the last twenty-four hours, Shadow felt a familiar energy. One he hadn't felt in three years...
His eyes widened with anticipation, his body nearly acting of its own will and jumping out of the carriage to go and see for himself. But he restrained himself until the people sitting by the campfire came into view. One was a woman who he did not recognize, but the other...
He smiled.
"Well, well..."
They slowly approached, and eventually Shadow hopped out of the carriage to appear before the Wanderer.
"It seems the Cataclysm didn't do you in after all, Miyamasa."
#132
Posted 06 October 2011 - 04:10 PM
A lone figure appeared shortly in the distance. Based on the size, Ernest could ascertain that it was a man. At this distance the only thing that he could make out was the figure seemed to be walking a slow pace, with a bad limp. The man's cloak masked the other features. If it wasn't so late the land would be lit up like a lantern, but unfortunately it was the dead of night, and there was a new moon. Something deep inside Ernest's gut told him to keep riding. Ignore the stranger. There was something wrong that hung in the air. Describing it to any science minded person would just result in skeptical looks. The air felt oppressive and heavy, and the darkness felt like it might as well have had eyes. This must be how the mouse feels when it enters the lair of the cat. However, this feeling just reaffirmed Ernest in his beliefs. This was no place for a wounded man to be struggling about. Ernest found himself imagining a story of the wanderer encountering some sort of hell beast left over from the Cataclysm, getting wounded, and barely escaping. Perhaps the creature hunted the man still. Ernest pulled in the reigns and the wagon came to a stop feet from the injured man.
"Hey mister! You don't look so good! Don't worry, help's here!" Ernest hopped down from the wagon, and due to the carriage's lanterns was able to easily see the victim now. It was a young looking man. His skin was a shade of pale rarely seen nowadays. Eyes of deep emerald peered out from within the hood of the cloak, and he was wearing some unique looking light armor. The man wore a normal looking curved sword at his hip, and had another similar, but larger, sword strapped across his back. The look of the man just reaffirmed Ernest's imaginary story. This man was a warrior, plain and simple! Something dangerous must be around here for him to be so pale, and to carry himself with such a limp!
Each step towards the man sent warning signs throughout Ernest's body. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end. Dread hung in the air like it was richer than oxygen. And the stare from earlier... The all encompassing stare... It surrounded him and sent a chill down his spine, and put ice in his veins. Ernest ignored his body's warning signs. This man was in danger! Ernest through his arm around the man's shoulders.
"Don't worry pal, take it easy. I'll help you up to the wagon. We'll get you help at Snowpeak."
Time seemed to slow down. The stranger threw his cloak back, revealing his armor clad body. The shadow the lantern cast was more than enough. The stranger seemed to dip his hand into the blackness as if it were tangible. Removing his left hand from the oily dark revealed once human features now putrid and distorted. The hand was still human in shape, but the fingers were clawed and sickly looking. It was as if his fingertips were perverted into daggers made of darkest umbra. Ernest turned his head to see the stranger's smile as he plunged the claws into his chest. The burning sensation was immediate. Ernest tried to cry out in pain but all that escaped his lips was a gasp. With both lungs punctured, as well as his heart, Ernest looked into the strangers face as the world started to get dim. The stranger whispered something in Ernest's ear before he passed.
"Don't worry. You'll have plenty of company where you're going. I'll send all of humanity to meet you."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Synile removed his hand from the man's chest. His fingers were back to normal, but were coated thickly with blood. Synile dragged his hand across his face and drew his tongue along his hand. Turning his attention to the wagon, Synile drew his nodachi. In one swing the horse was cut free from the bindings. Synile returned the nodachi to his back, climbed on the back of the horse, and speed off in the other direction.
"Yes. This is much easier than walking to Koridai." Synile laughed. His twisted laugh seemed to fill the night air, and carry for miles.
#133
Posted 07 October 2011 - 01:00 AM
"So..." she started to speak as she looked to Ken.
Ken, who had been perfectly content to just stare at the fire, turned his head to Eivor's direction with a gaze that seemed burned out and tired. Eivor stammered a little bit to find something meaningful to say before Ken simply turned back to the fire. Several moments of silence passed before Eivor found the right words.
"So, I noticed you haven't talked a lot since you came along with us."
Ken's eyes glanced in her direction before returning to the fire. He nodded once. Eivor smiled a little bit, glad to get some semblance of a dialogue out of him.
"Well, I was wondering about that. Can you talk?"
Another nod.
"Oh, okay... Well, why don't you talk more often?"
There was no reaction from Ken at first, though his voice eventually rumbled up in response.
"I forgot how to be human."
The response naturally elicited a shiver from Eivor. To forget to be human... Synile...
"I am trying to remember."
She noticed Ken looking her right in the eyes as he spoke that last part. Could he tell what she was thinking?
The moment was broken by the sound of horses, horses pulling something along at that. Eivor started at the intruding carriage, but Ken quickly laid a hand on her shoulder to urge her to be calm.
That person who emerged from the carriage...
"It seems the Cataclysm didn't do you in after all, Miyamasa."
This one. Which one was he? Ken's head tilted a bit in comprehension as his mind reached back into the depths of the life he once knew.
"I remember you."
A soldier of one of the former dorms, and an ally from a time when he forgot who he was... My, how things have come full circle. Ken finally recalled the name associated with the man.
"Shadow."
Edited by Ken the Wandering Soul, 07 October 2011 - 09:47 AM.
#134
Posted 07 October 2011 - 08:36 PM
In spite of himself, he smiled broadly. It was refreshing to see an old comrade of his from before the Cataclysm that wasn't directly affiliated with either of those old hags. Or at least he didn't hear anything about Ken working for Selena.
The girl who was with him, on the other hand, saw fit to spoil the mood.
"Shadow? ...Koridai's Blazing General!?"
"Ex-General, I'll have you know." he replied to her with a glare. "My comrades in the carriage and the several hundred Imperial troops and Templars we had to escape from not too long ago can attest to that." The girl found herself at a loss for words, but it was clear that she didn't quite trust him. He inspected her... she didn't seem to be a threat, a decidedly average person in this world full of crazy people.
He also noticed several scrapes and cuts on her. And also on Ken.
"...You two are injured." He realized. Shadow deduced that they must have been climbing down the mountains. Their wounds were a little much for a simple climbing accident though... something in his gut told him that it wasn't a coincidence. Big events tend to gravitate towards people like Ken and himself. "Oi, get these people some first aid!" he called out to the carriage.
Simon and Nia did as ordered, not even taken a minute before they inspected their wounds, the male soldier checking over Ken and the female soldier looking after the girl... or tried to, but she proved apprehensive about it. "Don't worry, we're not here to hurt you, just passing by. The Gener- sorry, ex-general isn't the type to ignore people who need help."
The girl softened up a bit, but just a bit. Obviously she didn't like Koridai too much... she must be from Calatia. Shadow supposed questioning her about the Goddess was pointless though; she was probably just a civilian. Besides, the higher-ups in the Calatian capital would likely know more than she would anyway.
There was still some tension in the air. Ken was notably silent after the first mention of "Koridai" from the girl. He could see his eyes brimming with curiousity from beneath his mask.
"It seems some explanations are in order..."
And so he started to recount the tale of their escape, starting with Solomon's claming of the Koridian throne...
Edited by SL the Pyro, 07 October 2011 - 08:37 PM.
#135
Posted 07 October 2011 - 10:06 PM
"I know how much you want to leave right now. You've grown so accustomed to just skipping off whenever trouble started to lurk it's head. Well, it seems that there won't be any skipping now."
Jordan fell to the ground, sitting on the cold earth as he clenched his painful wounds. The bundle of spears he carried over his shoulder fell and the weapons were scattered.
"Why are you doing this? Toying with me? Mocking me? I don't understand why." Jordan asked, panting heavily.
"Because I hate you. Because I hate the lies and the deceit and the selfishness and the delusions you wrapped yourself up in. Look at you, you've only gotten this far by throwing everything away and now you have nothing left. And you've been running . . . running and running to make everything better when you can't accept the change your brought on yourself."
"What change? What did I do?" Jordan asked.
"YOU LEFT! WHEN SHE NEEDED YOU, WHEN SHE JUST WANTED YOU THE BE BY HER SIDE YOU WENT OFF AND ABANDONED HER! AND WHEN THE CATACLYSM CAME SHE WAS ALONE AS THE WORLD CAME DOWN AROUND HER!" The double said, his remarks like nails on slate screeching through the ears and into the heart.
-Sornaiid, Two Years Ago-
"There's going to be a battle soon . . ."
"A battle?"
"Against the Alliance. There are some people aiming to put them under. I'll be leaving tomorrow to join them."
"Why? Why are you going to fight the Alliance? What have they done?"
"It's not just me. It's a coalition of the domains, the Fortress, the Woods and Ikana are going to take part as well. I've been called to help."
"But why? You don't need to endanger yourself, surely they have a force strong enough without you."
"I have friends who are going to be fighting in this together. I refuse to be a coward and abandon them after all they did for us. I've made up my mind and I'm leaving first thing tomorrow morning."
". . ."
"Listen, you don't know what I saw back there at the Eagle's Talons. It was horrible! The people, the land, everything was-"
"And you took care of it, didn't you? Played the hero and saved that day, right? That's why you're here, that's why you always show up here! Because you always get banged up and then you crash here like I've got nothing better to do than tend to your injuries and then let you run off again!
"Where is this coming from? That's hardly even fair and it's not true!"
"Oh yeah? Really? Then explain it to me, what's going on Jordan?"
"I . . . you know what, forget it."
"No! Don't puss out on the question! You can at least EXPLAIN why you are running off!"
"I'm not just running off! I have to be there! I have to make sure what happened at the Eagle's Talons doesn't happen again! I'm not some punk picking fights anymore, I'm going off to help make this world a better place!"
"Then can't you start here?! Can't you just stay put and be where I need you? Why do you always run away just to get beat up half to death and come back here? Why!?"
". . ."
"Damn it to hell Jordan! Can't you at least give me an answer!? I need you here . . . just as much as they do . . ."
"What if I'm not there!? What if I stay and everything goes wrong? What if there was something that I could do and I wasn't there to do it? What if Ken, or Goose, or Shadow, or Steel go out there and don't come back because I wasn't there?"
"I'm not selfish enough to say I don't understand that . . . but I'm sorry. You always go and you are gone for so long . . . Jordan . . . if you go . . . If you go then don't bother coming back here. I'm . . . I can't wait for you anymore."
"How can you say that? After all the times I've gone and all the places I've been I have never forgotten my way back and I have come back! Time and time again I always come back and this time is no different! I promise you that not matter where I go I will always come back because I . . . I'm not just the armor and spears."
" . . . Just go. Jordan, just . . . just get out of here and go . . ."
"Remember now? The last promise you gave her? And when you came back, she wasn't there. The house was in shambles and the village was in flames, the villagers had murdered themselves in madness. And that was the beginning wasn't it? The Grey Cloaks and Tiresias, you left them to fend for themselves against Solomon's Inquisition. Though the day was won, how many did you have to bury at Windfall? And then your new fellowship: the girl who despises you and your deplorable pride, the mad man who abandoned her, the warrior whose trust in you is dwindling and the old bard you left to be devoured as you escaped. Isn't this enough?!"
Jordan was broken, he sat on the ground as his empty eyes looked upon his double.
"There is no going back. Your betrayals end now." The doppelganger said, raising his spear and walking slowly towards Jordan.
" . . . no." Jordan uttered softly.
The double stopped.
"I will not show your mercy twice." he said, grabbing the black spear with both hands.
"I wasn't asking for mercy." Jordan replied, slowly getting up. He grabbed a spear, any spear he could find and used it to prop himself up.
The double said nothing.
"You're RIGHT, OK!?" He shouted back.
"When people needed me I wasn't there! I could list the reasons why I didn't or why I couldn't but the fact remains the same! I messed up! But reminding me won't change that!"
Jordan stuck the spear he was using into the ground, abandoning the weapon.
"You hate me? My selfishness? My delusional wraps or whatever you said? Well fine, hate me. But I refuse to let you make my failures DEFINE me! I know what you are now so if you are going to kill me then do it because frankly I'm tired of LOOKING at myself!"
Jordan threw his arms out, extending them out as if to say he was ready to embrace whatever fate was to be his. He was tired and aching but this was no way to live. The dobbelganger thrust his spear at Jordan at lightning speed and struck his chest.
Edited by JRPomazon, 07 October 2011 - 11:17 PM.
#136
Posted 13 October 2011 - 01:03 AM
But he went to meet the enemy.
Before the battle had reached this point, the strong general was offered fortunes and spoils in exchange for the location of his brother and their army. After his conspiracy, he rode into the night. As the dark hours of the morning fell upon the land, the enemy did march on the loyal general and his men and by surprised attacked their ranks. Outmatched, the remaining soldiers did fall until only their general remained. As he saw his enemy mock him and tell him of the strong general's betrayal, his faith in his brother did not waiver or falter. With spear in hand, he rushed to the fray himself.
From their rear, the strong general returned with a fresh legion behind him that came upon the enemy as the morning sun rose in the sky. And although the battle was won, only defeat awaited the strong general as his brother had fallen prior to his return. Overcome with grief, he abandoned his spear and cast himself into the wilderness, never to be seen again.
It was believed that the spears were returned to the kingdom they were once served to protect. It was said that the two spears were artifacts embedded with the will of their masters and were given a space in the most sacred chamber, placed by a large obsidian mirror in hopes that the generals would forever guard their kingdom's most sacred treasure.
This is the story of the Traitor General Kazen and the Loyal General Stozen.
- - -
It was a story. An old story, passed down like a parable from parent to child for years and years. But stories are forgotten or changed and the lesson the parable imparted to us lost to the ages. But despite history and time, the memory perseveres and suddenly we remember what it was that we lost. Some might laugh when this happens, others might cry and few might be angry and try to forget it all over again. But the true nature of this phenomenon is so simple that even a child could understand.
As Jordan looked down at the blade that he felt pierce his clothes and flesh, he was amazed to find that the black blade of Cain Kazen had been replaced by that of it's partner Abel Stozen. The white spear's shorter length had once again spared him from certain death as it switched places with Cain Kazen. The doppelganger did not flinch, well aware that his spear had changed, nor did he bother to move the blade in Jordan's body.
Jordan slowly looked to the spear that he had planted into the earth in his earlier act of defiance and found the black spear standing in the snow. Jordan turned to his counterpart, quiet as the grave and as calm as the night. The double lowered his weapon, no longer wishing to harm Jordan.
"I know I'm asking a lot but I need to make things right." Jordan said.
"Maybe not the way they used to be, maybe I can make things better than before. Just leave it to me. Please."
The double vanished, the white spear Abel Stozen fell to the icy ground. He knew he was hurt from before and he knew that logically he should feel a great pain because of it. And he did feel that pain. But as he fell down on the icy ground after the exhaustion of the night, he slowly closed his eyes as the world went dark. Almost before he heard the sound of someone in the distance.
"General! I found him!"
OoC: OK, I'm sure I've bored you all long enough. The plot battle is dead and done with, thanks for putting up with it for so long. S_L, if you would be so kind as to continue where I left off . . .
#137
Posted 13 October 2011 - 12:06 PM
...being devoured by a Wendigo.
It filled the ex-General with rage. He was concerned - though due to his past experiences with him, doubtful - that this fate had befell Jordan too. It didn't even take ten seconds before the beast was both distracted by a fireball and then beheaded by Shadow's black sword.
The traveler named Jara... one side of his body was intact, one half was just bones, and the area in between... a gory mess that he didn't want to try describing. What a way to go... there was little they could do in the ways of a burial right now in this frozen tundra.
"General! I found him!"
Jakob's voice, after the "battle" had ended.
"He's alive! Unconscious, but alive!"
His hopes lifted the instant he heard that. Leaving Ryu and Nia to tend to Jara's body, the ex-General covered the distance.
The state of Jordan's body wasn't a complete surprise. Shadow had seen this nature of wound on him before... it seemed he was still actively practicing his wind manipulation techniques. But... something was different. What was this... faint aura he felt in the air? A clash of light and dark... then suddenly a mingling of light and dark. He couldn't place it. It circled around Jordan, even if it was rapidly dispersing...
"Get him to the carriage. His injuries are too much for us to treat out in the open."
Jakob and Simon were about to do as instructed as Shadow went to scoop up his fallen, snow-white spear...
"YOW!"
...until it zapped him. And there was a black spear on Jordan's person... this might explain the light and dark aura thing.
Shadow fervently shook his hand. He hadn't been touched by anything light- or dark-based for so long that he'd forgotten how much it hurt. But he didn't ever forget what too much exposure did to him... he couldn't touch this spear, or the one on Jordan's back. "Okay... on second thought, I'll help carry Jordan, one of you grab his spear."
"Are you alright?" Simon asked, being the one to grab the spear while the ex-General hefted Jordan by the arm, careful not to touch the black spear.
"I'm fine, I didn't touch it for too long..." he replied. "That was still a surprise though! I don't remember Jordan using magic of any sort before the Cataclysm!"
Well, it had been three years since he'd seen him last...
"Seems I'm not the only one here with a big tale to tell..."
#138
Posted 20 October 2011 - 12:25 AM
A fight for the divine right to inherit the throne. Even after the cataclysm, the more things changed the more they stayed the same.
As Eivor gave her side of the story thus far, Ken reacted little, even as Simon looked over and treated his wounds. The attention he received was a bit more in depth compared to the more cursory examination he had just after his initial wounding, which Ken supposed was something to be grateful for. The only time he put up resistance was when Simon tried to remove Ken's mask to get at a cut located near his jaw. When Simon reached to pull it off, he found that Ken had quickly gripped his arm and forced it aside. After Simon tried a couple more times, being met with silent glares, he got Ken's message and gave up on it.
Ken's concerns were raised as Jara―or what remained of Jara, was found, with Jordan found soon after. And that spear. As Jordan's wounds were tended to, Ken's eyes softened. Ken recalled the previous night when he rejoined with Jordan, seeing him fight with that doppelganger. So much had happened in three years, and only recently was he finally starting to regain what he had lost. From his lips came the barest whisper of speech.
“Please live.”
#139
Posted 22 October 2011 - 02:52 AM
"It has been four days since the city was damaged and you tell me that you have not completed clearing the rubble?" Solomon asked, his eyes fixated on the man.
"M'Lord, we are working almost every hour of the day to repair the damages and remove the rubble but our manpower alone is not enough to meet the deadlines you've set. You ask too much of us."
Solomon, infuriated further left his seat and quickly approached the building foreman and grabbed his dust covered collar and raised in with both hands.
"I ask what IS REQUIRED OF THIS CITY!" Solomon shouted, throwing the man to the floor again.
"If working most of the day does not produce results then work every hour of every day until the city is restored! That is your DUTY!"
The man cried out in pain as his back hit the hard floor.
"Pray to the goddess for strength . . . and pray that I do not have to speak to you again. Because if you cannot accomplish what I ask then I will find someone who will."
Two guards took the foreman out of the room, knowing Solomon was finished with him and knowing that any more of this treatment would eventually kill the man. But the fact that Solomon did not draw his saber to sever limbs proved how lenient he was being. From his personal ambitions to cleanse a city that was overrun with social anarchy and a strong disregard to it's authority to its current need for repairs, the stresses of stewardship had placed a heavy burden on Solomon's shoulders. He returned to his seat and folded his hands on his desk.
He detested the ineptitude he was forced to examine as the Grand Marshal of the inquisition, becoming steward of the entire nation only seemed to magnify his loathing. But he was the only one who could do this task, even his arch-inqusitors were unable to accomplish anything in his absence. Solomon's thoughts then went to those four men who had been oddly quiet during the recent events. Although ineffective, he knew better than to believe they would just watch things like perched pigeons. In his heart he felt the uneasiness of a growing plot.
"M'Lord!"
A templar rushed into the room, panting from his dash.
"Sir, *pant* *pant* the detained citizens *pant* *pant* being judged as heretics *pant* *pant* have been released."
"WHAT!?" Solomon shouted, standing from his seat.
#140
Posted 27 October 2011 - 12:45 AM

Solomon was furious. No, furious wasn't the word. To be angry, full of energy, violent and intense, those definitions did not cover Solomon's true disposition as his eyes were visibly twitching in his head as he took the hilt of his saber and stormed out of his own office. The templars knew this rage very well and did not follow suit right away due to the pressure of being too close to a man like that. Painfully obedient men they may be, but far from stupid. To them Solomon was a spinning sawblade, getting to close to him would only lead to their own deaths. And Solomon had been known to kill and maim his own men when he got into a mood like this. One templar followed closely behind, trying desperately to tell him his full report while avoiding his own death at the hands of his superior.
"It just happened M'Lord, they're being released section by section."
Solomon did respond or register in any way that he got that last part of the message. His head was completely cut off from the world. In a state like this, he could completely slaughter anyone who had the misfortune to cross him. A templar came running up and noticed Solomon coming towards him. The templar noticed his comrade and motioned to move to the side. Quickly grasping the situation, the templar did just that and the red armored soldier moved out of the way as he felt Solomon's fury emanating from his body.
"Please tell me he's not in a mood again." The templar asked the first messenger, alarmed and unnerved by the whole experience.
"You have more information on the releases I hope?"
"Yes, three sections of the suspected have been released and their number is growing."
"No, no, not that! Who sanctioned this? Was it some treachery in our ranks or perhaps a revolt?"
"That's just it! It was a direct order from the offices of the inquisition."
The footsteps stopped in the distance, the two templars looked to find that Solomon had stopped his march to slaughterism. He stood still, the templars looked on fearful of what would happen next.
"ELABORATE." Solomon said, his voice booming in the echoing halls of the spire.
At first, the two said nothing as they made peace with themselves. The second templar cleared his throat, briskly breaking the silence that quickly fell back in like the tide on a beach.
"M'Lord, we were issued an order to release the prisoners. It was an official document, signed . . . by Lord Lucien of the arch-inquisitors."
The silence was so strange after he spoke those words. Almost like a faint shrieking, the residual noise of the eardrums picking of white noise. The two kept their eyes on Solomon and Solomon kept his eyes on the void in front of him. His red cape swirled around to the back as the Grand Marshal turned around, his vicious rage redirected from the city to the inner sanctum of the spire.
"WHERE . . . IS . . . HE!?" Solomon screamed. It was at that moment that the two templars, though men of devout faith in the goddess and strong constitutions truly felt fear for their own lives as if looking at Solomon directly was like looking into the sun or perhaps looking into the dismal abyss.
"M'Lord Solomon, he is in the mirror chamber."
From the shadows, Inquisitor Gervais appeared to report to his superior. He appeared cautious, but at the same time had a certain smugness. Perhaps he thought that despite addressing the Grand Marshal in this way, he was in no immediate danger. Solomon's eyes pierced through Gervais' demeanor as he sensed the inquisitor's concept of immunity. And it made him go even further into rage. Solomon quickly walked over to Gervais and clenched his neck, raising the man from the floor and slammed his against a nearby wall. Despite the vicegrip, Gervais attempted to speak.
"I've been following *hack* *gak* him- his- he- *cough* has been acting strangely and *hack* I was- hoping to- find out . . ." the inquisitor said, his voice sounding like a shrilled lizard.
Solomon released him, the inquisitor fell to the floor on the verge of passing out from a lack of air.
"Inquisitor Gervais . . . pray that your words ring true or I will cut out your throat and feed it to the dogs."
Solomon rushed off, forgetting to order the two templars who watched as Gervais was thrown like a rag doll. He headed to the Mirror Chamber. In the most sacred place of the entire empire, Lucien was defiling it with his pretense. Unacceptable. Unacceptable. Unacceptable. Unacceptable. Unacceptable. Unacceptable. Unacceptable. Unacceptable. Unacceptable Unacceptable Unacceptable Unacceptable Unacceptable Unacceptable UnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptable
UnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptableUnacceptable
I'LL KILL HIM!
He was going to kill him. He was going to kill Lucien. He did not care about anything else, only to kill that man. He should have known he would be betayed. He was a heretic all along. He was corruption all along. He brought decay. He brought debauchery. His blood would be split. His mind was in the storm of chaos, rushing through the loggia corridors facing the city below and heading up and up through the dark hallways and stairs and past all the templar guards to the very zenith of the spire and as he past through the sandstone threshold into the open air room. Lucien stood in front of the pedestal that held the large obsidian mirror. Solomon quickly drew his saber and ran like a beast at Lucien aiming to rip him apart with his sword. As he raised his blood sword over his head to deliver the first carving slice, he stopped in his tracks as he felt a gravity he could never mistake. Lucien said nothing, appearing fearless as the Grand Marshal expression changed from that of a mad beast to that of a bewildered child.
His madness still remained, but his bloodlust was gone completely. He slowly looked up, feeling this familiar force envelop him completely. Gwen stood at the top of the pedestal, looking down at Solomon sternly, coldly and with eyes as red as those of Chikara Nadir. Solomon recognized immediately, but did not understand what was going on. She began to step down the stairs of the pedestal, Lucien moving to the side to accommodate her passage. As she moved forward, Solomon felt himself moving backwards as if the idea of getting too close would be harmful.
"You . . . You are . . . that nurse . . . from before . . ." Solomon stammered.
"Rejoice Solomon, the goddess has returned to us." Lucien said.
- - -
Jordan woke up on the back of a wagon, slowly feeling the grogginess of rest flee his body. As he stared at the sky above, he slowly attempted to recollect just what happened before. Like sand pouring into an hourglass, the missing blanks began to fill in. He focused on this for now, not attempting to make his consciousness public. However, his secret would be exposed as a man looked over to check on him.
"General, I think he's finally awake!" He said, rather loudly and without regard to the fact that Jordan just woke up. It seemed he was in some sort of military group. Before anyone could come over to see the battered warrior however, Jordan could not help but notice the imperial emblem on the man's uniform. He recognized the color and symbol as that of the empire and quickly pushed the man off the wagon and got to his feet. Of course, his legs were still very weak and he fell as quickly as he got up to the ground. But with his fall came another discovery, the lack of snow. He was no longer on the mountain. He quickly looked around frantically, he didn't know what was happening, what was going on in the slightest bit and looked for anything to use as a weapon. However, as he looked around he calmly noticed Ken and Eivor looking over from their spot by a fire and three other strangers he'd never seen before.
He felt his body get lifted from the ground, his eyes noticing a pair of Pegasus Boots on the person's feet. He looked up to find none other that Shadow helping him back on the wagon.
"Looks like you're doing OK. You've been asleep for a couple of days so we were beginning to worry."
Jordan blinked as his lethargic body ached from it's minimal activity. He also noticed the same uniform on Shadow's person.
"Nice clothes." Jordan asked.
Edited by JRPomazon, 27 October 2011 - 11:51 AM.
#141
Posted 27 October 2011 - 04:38 AM
Once Jordan was safely laying back down on the wagon, he quipped, "Well it's four soldiers fully decked out in Imperial armour, what was I supposed to think?"
"Okay, granted." he admitted, taking a seat on one of the interior benches.
"But why were you even enlisted in Koridai's army?"
"To get closer to Chikara after to what she did to the Woods, obviously!" he said as if it should have been common knowledge. At least to one of his old friends... well, one that could actually remember everything. "And what about you? All I've heard from you over the last three years is the result of Solomon foaming at the mouth."
...Shadow and Jordan obviously had a lot of catching up to do...
Edited by SL the Pyro, 27 October 2011 - 04:39 AM.
#142
Posted 28 October 2011 - 01:33 AM
Hearing Solomon's name brought memories back from Windfall Island as scores of templar knights stormed the shores and the fateful battle with the Grand Marshal himself. His eyes narrowed as his mind's eye replayed the events in his head, slowly making a fist in his right hand.
"So, that makes you 'General' Shadow? Tell me how did the plans go for killing Chikara? I certainly hope the perks of a military life didn't get in the way of that." Jordan said sharply, the idea of joining the empire and the goddess still struck a nerve. But before Shadow could speak, the man Jakob stood to his superior's defense.
"You mind yourself!" Jakob interrupted, not interested in Jordan's tone of voice.
"I won't tolerate anyone to insult General Shadow!"
Jordan looked over to Jakob, unamused by the soldier's argument. Perhaps he still felt too tired to deal with debates.
"That's enough Jakob." Shadow replied, raising his hand to tell Jakob to stand down.
"Heh, pretty good group of men you have here." Jordan replied. His attention was taken away from insulting or judging Shadow for his choice in alignment, he knew the man had his reasons despite how he felt about it. It was best to accept things as they were.
"So, you became a general in the imperial military. Not too bad. It's nice to see that you've gone places since the Cataclysm. But why are you out here in Calatia lands? Are you on some sort of mission for the Empire?"
". . . Not exactly." Shadow replied. Shadow's men all unintentionally looked away from the two men as Shadow began to explain, Eivor looked over from the fire to listen in.
- - -
She stood silently, a woman in a red dress with the eyes to match looking at Solomon as if he were transparent. Strangely enough, that is how Solomon felt around her, as translucent as glass with nothing that could be hidden from those eyes. It was as if she could stare into his very soul. Solomon felt insecure about his current position, constantly trying to evaluate what was going on in his mind while forcing his damned feet to stop moving.
"What do you mean . . . Lucien what do you mean?"
The cunning Lucien wanted to crack a smile as he stood in front of the frightened Grand Marshal, he wanted to enjoy this moment as much as he possibly could. But he had a role to play and that took precedence over his own enjoyment.
"I mean our orphaned nation has been once again blessed by the majestic grace of her ladyship the goddess." He replied.
"Her vessel may appear different than before, but this woman is the goddess. Using the power of the Twilight Mirror, we have restored the goddess to grace. Do you not feel the same way I do when she is near? The force of her will, is it not the same as before? How can you deny that she is anyone but the goddess?"
Solomon stopped. The mirror. The most powerful object within the kingdom, holding within it a reflection of the goddess. It was so simple now . . . and this was so wrong. No. No No. This wasn't right. He knew the goddess. He served the goddess for two years, worshiped her as the being who enlightened him and gave him a new path to walk on this earth. He knew her face, the way she moved, the way she spoke and ate and drank and laughed and the worship she would receive by the people of the empire. No, this wasn't right. This woman he had only known for a few days, she took care of him when he was weak and he intentionally took her captive for her signs of wavering faith. She was no goddess.
"You . . . you take me FOR A FOOL!?" He shouted at the top of his lungs.
"You are NOT the goddess, the being I had given my life to serve!"
He turned to Lucien.
"You bring an imposter to the holiest of sanctums and debouched it!"
Solomon took up his sword from the ground and brandished his blood sword in front of the two.
"This act shall be paid in kind as I spill your blood!"
"Idiot!" Lucien replied as his calm demeanor was broken by Solomon's protest.
"To attack the goddess herself? That is in itself the greatest act of heresy! Have you abandoned reason to quell your own thirst for power?!"
"My will IS the will intrusted to me by her ladyship the goddess Chikara Nadir! I will not suffer to serve the will of an imitation!" Solomon replied.
"Enough." Gwen said, breaking her silence as she stepped past Lucien straight towards Solomon. Before either man could realize what was happening she had taken hold of Solomon's wrist, forcing the hand that held his saber down. Solomon was astonished as Gwen forced him to lower his weapon without so much of an effort from her part. This strength was abnormal at best. He attempted to force his hand back up and cut her down but his strength could not be gathered.
"I was helpless last time, now things are different."
Gwen released Solomon, the grand marshal stepping back to distance himself from her.
"Speak no more, for you are nothing but a shade and a lie!" Solomon replied.
"I asked you if you thought the goddess would ever return and you said yes. Did you mean the goddess of this nation or Chikara Nadir?"
"They were one in the same!"
"Were?"
Solomon stopped himself, realizing what it was he just said. Past tense. Why did he said were instead of are? His mind was quickly overcome with confusion, dropping his sword on the sand dusted chamber floor and clenched his head with his hands.
Edited by JRPomazon, 28 October 2011 - 12:59 PM.
#143
Posted 10 November 2011 - 06:07 PM

General Crimson,
It has been nearly a month since the seer has appeared in our camp. Each day her warnings become more and more frantic. Her daily prattling of the approaching storm has the entire division on edge. She speaks as a woman possessed, claiming that a demon descends from his mountain perch like an unstoppable avalanche. She says she means to save lives, but if we abandon this village on the Calatian supply route... To stay is to die, but to leave is to endanger our own peoples. As the leader of the Fifth Snakehead Division, I am doing my best to keep the troops calm. The only logical thing to do is to hold the trade route. I cannot risk serious danger at the cost of avoiding an imaginary one.
All the same, her words wear on the men each consecutive day. Legally, there is nothing we can do to detain the woman, for as a Calatian citizen she, too, has rights. As the days change to nights, and nights to days, we cope as best we can. But I fear that the insanity plaguing this woman is catching. If you were to make a personal appearance we could better handle the situation, and the very presence of their commanding officer would certainly calm the fears of the men. For the time being, we hold.
Carl Loengar.
Carl had posted that letter to the Calatian capitol two weeks passed. The woman in question has gotten exponentially bolder as the days go on. Keeping the supply route open should have as good as being sent on vacation. From the highest building in town, one could clearly see into Koridian territory, but all has been quiet in the past few months. And raids from the cursed have all but stopped. Even the very air felt less oppressive. Until that woman. The seer. Her arrival in town seemed to suck the budding positivism out of the air. There was little Carl could do at the moment but keep post. He brought the binoculars to his eyes, for a quick scan of the perimeter. Nothing was out of the ordinary. A small caravan of travelers were leaving the village towards the north. And, coming from the direction of the Calatian capitol, a black clad rider on a horse, bearing a large curved sword on his back.
-------------------------------
Jensen was never really a religious man. He had initially signed up with General Leo's Snakeheads because he felt as if he had a duty. He had lost family in an attack perpetrated by the Cursed. This blind seer had really started to make Jensen question his faith. It was the rising tensions and doubt that caused him to seek out this chapel. It was the only one in the village the group was occupying. A few of the more devout Snakeheads were also inside. Everyone was quite, and solemn. Jensen approached the altar of Diel, and bent to one knee.
I've never prayed before... You'll have to forgive me, I'm not sure how this is supposed to go. Jensen only thought his words. To pray them out loud could only negatively affect the others occupying this space, and the thoughts on his mind were meant for him and a higher power alone. I can't say I haven't thought about killing the crone. That wouldn't be the correct thing to do. She has everyone on edge! We used to joke, and laugh, and gamble. The jovial attitude has been bled from the town. Her constant warnings have us feel as if we are all marked men, waiting on death row for our turn at the gallows. Please, Diel, give me the strength to find the order within this chaos. That is your virtue, is it not? Order? Bring order to this town! We've been suffering under the malice of chaos for far too long! A loud noise drew Jensen's attentions away from the altar, and to what was happening behind him.
The blind woman had burst through the doors as if being chased by Lazu himself. She stumbled through and collapsed upon the floor in a heap in a mix of exhaustion and clumsiness. The woman began to scream with all the power her lungs could muster.
"Death! The demon has arrived! With scythe in hand, he'll reap the souls from our flesh! None heeded the warning, and now none shall keep their head! He has come, the hammer of judgement is passed and the decree is death! His soul burns ebon, and his intentions are just as dark! There are none who shall live! I have seen the visions! By the right hand of the devil himself, every soul in this town is doomed to die!"
Her rambling was cut short as a figure dressed in purest black thrust the blade of his sword through the woman's throat. A choking wet gurgle was all that escaped her lips now. The woman grabbed the tip of the sword with her hands in a vain attempt to fight off the already perpetrated attack. The onyx clad figure withdrew his blade, and the body of the woman went completely limp. The figure in the doorway to the chapel was wearing a hood. Deep green eyes shone from beneath the cloak. They seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly glow. Jensen screamed. The other Snakeheads in the chapel drew their weapons and ran towards the man with the large sword. This was it. This is what she gave her life trying to prevent. Jensen watched in horror as the stranger danced around the chapel, effortlessly disarming and slaughtering the Snakeheads. It was beautiful in a way. The stranger made no extraneous movements. No effort was wasted. It was an exercise in efficiency. Time seemed to screech to a halt. Jensen watched in abject horror as this thing turned his comrades into eviscerated meat piles. This beast before him... It was Death in human skin. It was as if this thing had but one purpose, and that purpose was murder.
Jensen spoke, almost completely unaware he was doing so. "None of us are leaving this town alive."
The stranger smiled. It was a twisted smile. A smile that put ice in ones veins. The stranger approached Jensen, taking slow, deliberate, steps. The sound of boots on the hardwood floor rang out, like nails being hammered into a coffin. Jensen didn't even bother drawing his weapon. Given the display he just witnessed, there was nothing that could be done. It was ironic. For the first time in his life, Jensen walked into a chapel to pray, and it's going to kill him. Jensen couldn't take his eyes off of the man's blood drenched sword. It almost looked as if the sword were drinking in the blood that stained it.
The man, head and shoulders taller than Jensen, put a hand on his shoulder.
"Every single one of you. This town will burn to the ground. But not before I personally murder every. Single. One of you." With a flash of steel, Jensen suddenly realized he was on the floor. The majority of his torso was still standing. Cold. It was starting to get so very cold. Jensen watched as his body collapsed upon the floor in a heap. He struggled to maintain his vision. Everything was growing dark. So dark. So cold. The last thing Jensen could see was the stranger setting fire to the chapel.
They were all going to die in this town. And there was nothing any of the officers in this town could do about it.
#144
Posted 11 November 2011 - 09:52 PM
As soon as the ship docked, Leo descended the plank, rifle in one hand, red axe in the other, and made his way towards the messenger. “News?” he said right away.
“Koridai’s in a near-complete state of disarray, sir,” said the messenger, accustomed to the dwarf’s business-like manner. “Solomon’s been going around arresting heretics and all; Chikara Nadir hasn’t been seen or heard from for awhile either. Neither has Drake Uni Amirales, the General Magnus; seems as though Solomon’s taken full control in the ‘Goddess’s’ name.” A pause, and then, “No word on Lady Selena either; Queen Wisp and the others seem to be handling it just fine, though.”
Interesting. Then again, it was nothing he didn’t expect; in actuality, the dwarf was quite relieved by the turn of events. Leo then gave a nod towards the scroll in the man’s possession. “What’s that?”
“Something Captain Loengar sent out a couple weeks ago,” said the messenger, handing it over. “Remember him, sir?”
“Loengar? Oh, yes. Bright lad. Big on physics and all.” With a grin on his face as he recalled the Snakehead officer, Leo unraveled the scroll and read the message; soon enough, the smile fell off his face just as quickly as it had appeared. This doesn’t sound good at all. “Where was Loengar stationed?” he asked abruptly.
“A trade route just on the borders of Koridai. Shouldn’t be more than 6-7 hours from here, provided you have good transportation, sir.”
“Alright, good. Have a mountain goat ready to go in 20 minutes, and have the men that came back with me make their way back to Snowpeak.”
“Sir?” The messenger was rather baffled by the order.
“I’m handling this one on my own,” called out Leo. “Besides, I’ll probably run into some Huscarls Khallos stationed in that general area anyways. In any case, it might be best to be more stealthy than brute in this case.” With that, the general made his way towards the storage depot in order to replenish his rations and ammunition. Besides, they deserve a break.
The messenger was about to ask again, then realized he was already out of line. Officers, he thought with a shake of his head. They never tell us anything.
#145
Posted 18 November 2011 - 02:12 AM
"A shadow cast upon us has finally been lifted." Darius said, looking on in relief as the people were once again free.
"A shadow we placed ourselves . . . a tragedy we allowed to be committed." Serge said. The inquisitor lamented his agreement in Lucien's overall plan, ignoring the fact that this was a moment of triumph for the scheme.
"This not the time for buyer's remorse Lord Serge. You bought into Lucien's words realizing the consequences. Out of all the beds we could have made, we should feel fortunate that this is the one we are going to lie in." Marcoh added.
"But what puzzles me is what's next?" Darius added, his dark hand stroking his grey beard as he turned from the scene below.
"Lucien's plan stated that after we removed Solomon, the people would follow us for guidance. With the people . . . skeptical of their government, it wouldn't surprise me if caravans of citizens began leaving the city like they just left their prison cells."
"There won't be much escape for anyone now." Marcoh said with certainly.
"The exits to the city are still cluttered with debris from the earlier attacks, Lord Solomon insisted reconstruction efforts be directed towards renovating the spire. At the grueling rate he pushed the workers and masons, I'm sure it won't be terribly long before at least THAT is taken care of."
"Correction, Lord Marcoh." Lucien interrupted from the shadows of the room, entering silently like a wraith.
"The spire has just be reconstructed in it's entirety."
"Lord Lucien, when did you get here? And what do you mean?" Serge asked, quite bothered by his contemporary's timely arrival.
"I just arrived as Lord Marcoh made mention of the spire." Lucien responded, approaching the other three arch inquisitors.
"And when I say the spire has been reconstructed, I mean that the very spire we stand in has been completely restored."
The three arch-inquisitors left their view of the streets below and went to see the outside hallway, expecting to see the same construction they saw when they first arrived. However to their surprise, it was completely refurnished as it was before the attacks.
"By what power on earth did this happen?" Darius asked, looking awestruck as the others as they wandered into the hall to witness it restored to it's former glory.
"Who else?" Lucien asked.
The three men froze, their minds making the same logical conclusion.
"You don't mean . . ." Lord Serge asked.
"She has already taken care of Solomon. Now we only need to assure the people . . . that the goddess has returned."
* * *
Shadow went into detail about everything that had happened in the Arbiter's Grounds during the last couple of weeks. The general and his men being framed as traitors in the internal plots of the inquisition, Solomon's takeover of the empire, Egann and Shadow's plan to stop him. Jordan sat quietly, taking in everything as best as he could given his condition. Everyone listened to the two of them talk, Eivor and Ken by the fire and Shadow's men who surrounded the hastily made camp site. After the story was told, Jordan said nothing as he compiled his thoughts. He folded his hands and rested them neatly on his lap and bowed his head. On Windfall, he had the choice to finish Solomon for good but given the severity of the wounds inflicted on the Grand Marshal, he did not see the need for redundancy. The fact that Solomon survived the battle was extraordinary and terribly frightening. But those fears were not the weight that sat on his mind.
"You destroyed the major exits to the entire city to keep Solomon from reaching other parts of Koridai." Jordan asked, reaffirming what he was told just minutes ago.
"But by doing so . . . you trapped the rest of the people of the capital INSIDE with him and his unified army. Shadow, I need to ask you one thing . . ."
Jordan quickly got to his feet and delivered a powerful punch across Shadow's face.
"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!? YOU'VE FORSAKEN EVERYONE INSIDE THAT CITY! DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU'VE DONE!?"
Jordan was quickly dragged back by Jakob, who was already perturbed by Jordan's attitude.
"Hands off!" The soldier said, forcibly removing Jordan from direct contact of Shadow. The other of Shadow's soldiers rushed to their leader, checking on his condition as Jordan tried to wrestle free of Jakob's grip.
"Jakob! That's enough!" Shadow shouted, rubbing his face where Jordan had punched him.
Jakob, hesitant to release Jordan, let him go. Jordan wobbled a little as he got his balance back.
#146
Posted 18 November 2011 - 05:58 AM
--------------------
Jordan's reaction to the story was... well, expected.
But the words still stung, damnit, moreso than the punch to his face. Shadow was probably lucky that Jordan wasn't at full strength right now, but as things were now, he'd barely been knocked back by the sudden blow. He raised his hand to his loyal soldiers, silently telling them that all was fine, before glaring back at the guest in his carriage.
"Thanks for the reminder, you insensitive fool."
The casual attitude was gone from his voice. It was serious time.
"Yes, we had to abandon all the innocent civilians at the capital, but don't go making it sound like we wanted to. Think about who's sitting in Koridai's throne right now. Think about the thousands upon thousands of soldiers and Templars he has at his command, ready to strike at any second. And most importantly, think about the people who, because of their blind faith to the fallen Goddess, wouldn't want to leave anyway no matter what we would've tried to make them leave."
The ex-general closed his eyes and sighed heavily.
"We had to do it, because it was the only option we had left. We wanted to save those people, but you don't always get what you want. A ragtag group of five ex-soldiers can only accomplish so much against those odds, and it's the loss of one city versus losing the whole bloody nation. So unless you ever have to make the choice between losing a few and losing everyone..."
He leaned in close to Jordan and said in a low voice.
"I'll thank you not to judge us."
Edited by SL the Pyro, 18 November 2011 - 06:01 AM.
#147
Posted 19 November 2011 - 01:47 AM
After his comment, he reluctantly decided to back off, rather than continue to let the matter go on longer than it had to. He intended to walk off the frustration, despite his bandaged body and physical weakness. As he passed the fire, where Ken and Eivor sat by the fire, he remembered what happened the last time he wandered off.
Jara.
It wasn't so much the guilt that stopped him in his tracks but the idea that some things are best left avoided. There was no need for this, he knew it. No sense being angry, not now and not like this. So, he decided to move over the the warm fire instead of wandering off.
"So, what's for breakfast?" He asked.
* * *
Horns responded from the streets and the people who were caught in their own emotional stresses of joy and sadness. From their triumphant, yet piercing sound, the people quickly remembered what that sound meant. Despite the world as they knew it being torn asunder, their conditioning as people of the goddess did not disappear in those prison cells or interrogation rooms. Some responded blindly, others with curiosity and many with fear. But still, they followed the sound of brass horns to their origins. The public domain space surrounding the Spire.
As the masses filled the space, a man dressed in red robes stood overlooking the crowds from a few stories above preparing to make an address. It was none other than Lord Lucien of the Inquisition.
"People of the Goddess, the days of terror have come to an end. Though only mere days ago, the tyrant Solomon seized this city in the name of her holiness the goddess. He threw us into the flames of hell, murdering our friends, our family and our children before our eyes. But now, people of the goddess, no more! The bloodthristy usurper has been subdued!"
The clambering of hundreds of voices rose from the ground to the sky, disbelief and questions abound like the waves in the ocean.
"Behold!"
Lucien held in his had the crimson saber of the Grand Marshal, placing all doubts to rest.
"People of the goddess, it was not by our hand that Solomon was removed. It was not by our efforts alone that this day was won. Dear people . . . my dear people . . . I come to you all now with good tidings on this day. Her holiness, the goddess has returned to us!"
The crowds roared as Lucien stood aside to allow Gwen to pass. It was a rare occasion for the goddess to be seen publicly but every citizen of the empire knew her face. Which is why, when they saw Gwen, they knew something wasn't right. The people soon cried out accusations of fraud, some at the very of being riled up and physically protesting the claim. As the maiden looked down on this and understood their skepticism because she did not believe herself to be the goddess they knew. But it was not her place to agree with the people. She reached out her hand from the edge of the balcony she stood on and closed her eyes.
The ground began to shake violently, the people falling to their feet as the sudden tremors caught everyone in the city off guard. And then they ended. And the people looked around and the eventually back up to the maiden in scarlet. She opened her crimson eyes once again and looked down to the people.
"I can understand your doubt. I appear different to you. And I have left you all to face much hardship. But know that my eye has never left this nation, or those who have remained true to it. I am your sovereign. I am your goddess. All I ask . . . is only for you to believe."
She widened the fingers of her outstretched hand, the waters from the various fountains circling the spire and other parts of the city began to wildly overflow. The water crept through the streets like river snakes, cleansing the dried blood of the purge as it past the cobblestone streets. The people watched this and looked back at her. Only three words remained in the heads of the people of the Arbiter's Grounds.
"PRAISE THE GODDESS!"
The sounds of their chanting and praise rose even higher than their doubt or their accusations. And they rose all the way to the heights of the Arbiter's Spire. To where Solomon remained bound in chains in the confines of his own personal chamber, defeated not by blade, strength or magic, but by his own doubt.
#148
Posted 20 November 2011 - 12:37 PM
“So, what's for breakfast?”
Ken broke his sight away from Jordan to point at the pot over the fire. There was a small silence before Eivor piped up.
“Stew. Rabbit and yam stew, with a few herbs if I caught everything he put in there,” she clarified as she cast a look at Ken. Was it really so hard for him to simply say it?
Ken nodded.
“He went out by himself for the ingrediants too,” one of the soldiers, Simon, spoke, “Not a good idea considering that he is still recovering from wounds.”
That last part clearly directed at Ken himself, he gave Simon another glare before looking back to the pot. Soonafter he stood up and lifted the lid on the pot to give it some good stirring, the aroma of the contents escaping into the air.
#149
Posted 20 November 2011 - 02:47 PM
The trip from the southeastern port to the Calatian trade route took a shorter period of time than what the messenger had initially estimated; thanks to some previously dug out trails, Leo and his goat were able to move much more quickly than if they had been traveling on indigenous terrain. Personally, the dwarf would have preferred his bear Zus for traveling across the mountains, but the latter was back at Snowpeak Ruins enjoying a good rest after going along on a hunting expedition. Definitely don’t wanna lose him. On the way, Leo had also run into a group of training recruits prepping for a night out alone in the dark, and, like he told the messenger, managed to bring a few unspecialized but veteran Calatian soldiers for the trip. Taking an hour to rest at the camp to refresh himself and his goat, Leo then led the 8 men onwards towards the Calatia-Koridai border. They were also forced to hide in the trees from some passing by Koridaians soldiers before moving forward.
Finally arriving at the last cliff while approaching the camp, Leo could see smoke just past it and pulled up the reins in caution. “Dammit,” he murmured, dismounting the goat; he then tied the leash to a nearby tree and readied his rifle. The other Calatians did so as well, drawing their blades or readying their crossbows. Moving silently up the snowy hill, Leo popped his head over the top and instinctively gasped at the sight. “Holy…” The reactions from the other Calatians were just about the same.
The entire area, both the village of people and Snakehead camp, had gone up in flames; bodies were strewn in the most unlikely places, and some were mutilated beyond recognition from the cliff. Immediately climbing over and sliding down the snowy slope, Leo kept his rifle at the ready in case the killer was still within the vicinity. Moving into a back-to-back formation with the rest of the soldiers, he checked the rest of the village that was still standing for signs of anyone hiding. There were none; no survivors could be seen either. The Snakeheads’ bodies were found in their own little area, all slashed up in many different places. After 15 minutes, the Calatians set themselves to the heavy burden of burying their fellow comrades and citizens.
The next task for Leo was to study the tracks on the ground and try to estimate what the dead had been up against; oddly enough, he found no sign of any transport, only a single pair of heavy and determined footsteps leading throughout the entire village. This can’t be right. Moving around the area, Leo realized he could find no other constant footsteps of the attackers, only the one pair. One man…did all this? Refusing to believe the evidence in front of him, the general walked over to where 2 other Calatians were searching the ruins for any items of value.
“Find anything interesting yet?” he asked casually.
“No, sir,” replied one of the soldiers. “It’s weird, though; nearly all the supplies and food in this place have been barely touched, except for the fire of course. The killings are also completely random; whoever did this was doing so randomly. Normally, you’d go for the military first, and then the civilians that are still resisting, but they were all slaughtered as the perpetrator walked by them.”
“Interesting,” murmured Leo. All the evidence now pointed towards somebody completely insane in every possible aspect, somebody who had serious problems against the people in the village and camp, or somebody in a 3rd category that Leo had yet to classify. Getting to his feet, the dwarf shouldered his rifle and began walking towards the camp. “Come on, we might as well cover their bodies; after, we’ll see if we can track down whoever did this.”
While the group continued to bury the dead, Leo snapped the reins on his goat, and he moved onwards in the direction of the Holy Empire of Koridai.
Edited by Leo Crimson, 21 November 2011 - 07:57 PM.
#150
Posted 26 November 2011 - 11:17 PM
"I appreciate it Ken." He said, taking the first spoonful of food for the first time in days. He didn't feel hungry until that first spoonful hit his stomach. But as the sensation started to kick in, he was happy to know there was more where that came from.
"For everything I mean. I've been sort of . . ."
"An asshole?" Eivor interrupted. Jordan put down the food and looked at her, raising his eyebrow in surprise. He was about to say something, but realized that he deserved that.
"Yeah. That." Jordan replied humbly, going back to his stew knowing that he would have to deal with Eivor's less than stellar opinion of him since Jara died.
"Anything else you would like to add? I'm only going to be weak and injured for so long."
Eivor stood up and left the fire, uninterested in Jordan's sense of humor. His gut flipped in his stomach a little as she stormed off, one of Shadow's men following close behind. Most likely to keep everyone safe. Good thinking on their part. He shook his head as he took another bite of stew.
"I'm not winning any points with that one, am I?" Jordan asked Ken, who responded in silence. Jordan turned over to the soldier named Simon.
"So, where are we exactly? I can't imagine we are out of Calatia yet." Jordan asked as he continued eating.
"We are at the foot of the mountain range, about a quarter day's journey from the border territories of the Kingdom." Simon said, looking over to see Shadow and two others talking about something a few feet away. Jordan swallowed his food.
"I don't suppose you people are heading back to Koridai then. From what I gather you are all wanted men." Jordan asked, wiping his mouth.
"I honestly don't know what to tell you. I don't think that we'll be refugees in Calatia but going back isn't what we had in mind." Simon replied.
Placing the now empty bowl on the ground, Jordan crossed his arms and began to think.
"How long do you think would be best to wait until Shadow and I can be social again?" Jordan asked the men around the fire.
"Why not try now?" Simon replied, looking over to Shadow.
* * *
With the final blast, the last of the debris had been cleared with the efforts of the new goddess and the renewed strength of the denizens of the Arbiter's Grounds. The single woman reducing rocks into dust with the reach of her finger and causing stone walls to regenerate as if they were living themselves. The sounds of crying and woe had been replaced with the sounds of cheers and jubilation, a testament alone to the power of the goddess. Though many still mourned the many dead, the spirits of the people had been raised.
"Thank you, your ladyship! Thank you for everything!"
"All praise to the goddess!"
"Long may she reign!"
"Eternally may she reign!"
Gwen was surrounded by the worshiping masses, so comfortable in praise that it was almost impossible to think that earlier they were bound in chains in jail cells. But even with the phenomenal power she wielded, the sight of so many people around her, crowding her, smothering her, he felt their pressures, as if the masses were like the ocean. Ready to engulf her whole. But despite these growing, uneasy feelings she played things calmly and remained confident in the eyes of the people. She could no longer be a certain way in front of people, that was what being the goddess meant. Gwen wondered if the real goddess ever thought about this herself?
The templar knights that were sent to escort her only watched from a distance as with the wave of her hands, the goddess rebuilt the scarred and broken city.