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 Chapter 20: Almighty

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Red Blizzard

Posts : 164
Join date : 2011-05-30
Age : 25
Location : Elsewhere

PostSubject: Chapter 20: Almighty   Wed Jun 15, 2011 12:32 am

They had moved for some days at a brisk pace, forcing those lagging behind to push themselves to keep up. People who were physically disadvantaged like Jacob were constantly panting, while people in thick armor like Oblivion were constantly tripping. Dye’s own thick armor limited his pace somewhat, but he managed to stay at the head of his squad, stopping only for six hours every night to rest, before resuming their journey at a maddening pace. Now, they stood before a wall of impossible proportions, towering high over them. It was built with stone blocks the size of houses, layered up high by the hundreds, with a gate of solid steel the only path through. Dye looked up at this gate from where he stood in the shadow of its mass, the rest of his group slowly catching up to him, only to stare up with open mouths. Dye looked at the disbelief on his companions’ faces, then stepped forward with a grunt.


A black speck of a head emerged from one of the two towers flanking the gate, tiny against the massive crenellations of the wall. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“Dye, Captain from Requiem, wanting to pass through with my men!”

“For what purpose?”

Dye was on the verge of spilling out everything. The kidnapping, the rescue mission, the message... He checked himself. Maybe not that much. But his mind changed as he thought it all over. “That’s my business. Just let me through.”

“Erm, how about no? This is our clan territory, we’re not about to let just some nobody pass through.”

“Excuse me!?!?!? Have you never heard of Requiem?”


Dye rolled his eyes. “Who are you anyways?”

“The Warmongers of Bloodlust. We’re a well-known clan...”

“Nope, never heard of them. Must be a tiny little clan out somewhere in the mountains.”

“Hey, are you making fun of us?”

Dye cocked one eye at the tiny face on the parapet. “Whoa, you’re the Warmongers of Bloodlust? Sorry, I didn’t mean any harm, I mean, you’re just a small little clan, haven’t really accomplished much, didn’t think you’d take things so seriously...”

“That’s it! You’re going down!”

“Are you declaring war?”

“You bet I am! Archers!”

“Ooh, going to shoot me full of arrows? I’m really scared now. Go on, shoot me like a coward from your little hiding place. You’ll really accomplish something like that.”

The man up on the parapet swore. As the archers came into view, gleaming arrowheads pointed at Dye, he waved them away. “Put those damn things away! Come on, we’re going to war!” Then, as Dye’s stunned group watched, the tiny figure hurtled out of the parapet, running down the entire length of the tower before flipping forward and sliding to a stop on the ground. A half dozen soldiers followed him, landing before Dye.

A few of Dye’s companions stepped forward, blades half-drawn, but he waved them back gruffly. “No one interfere. This is my fight.” His squad looked at each other, then put their weapons away. No use arguing. The enemy charged forward, shouting various war cries, while Dye unsheathed his scimitar, looking carefully at its keen edge. He was in his element once more.

The battle lasted six seconds. Dye spent the first five seconds laughing while the enemy tried to put a dent in his armor. He spent the last second sweeping the field clean of enemies. As his last opponent fell in two pieces, Dye bent down to wipe his scimitar clean on a body. But before it could touch the ground, the flaming designs all across it glowed, the whole blade shaking as an immense pressure filled the air. The blood on the blade hissed, evaporating into thin air, leaving the scimitar spotless. Dye raised his eyebrows, then sheathed it.

Dye turned to his squad. “Victory! Alright guys, let’s move it!” Nobody moved. “What is it?”

Oblivion started forward, a little bit apprehensive. “Ummm...Dye...I don’t know how to put this to you, but how are we going to get through those?” He pointed up at the massive gates.

Dye strode forward with an incredulous grin, marching towards the gates. “What, these? They should be a cinch...” He looked up. The gates towered above him, standing at least five hundred feet tall, coated completely in metal. The massive hinges were well-oiled, made to swing silently even under the heft of the doors they supported. Dye reached forward with one hand, pushing against the door with all his strength. No movement. He took a few steps, performing a running charge into the door. It resounded with a deep, quivering gong. But it didn’t budge. Dye roared for a moment, slashing away at the door with his scimitar, leaving deep score marks, but hardly budging it.

“Here, let me try.” Oblivion strode past Dye, placing one palm against the door. The ground shook for one moment behind him. Then it erupted, an enormous hand made out of earth reaching out to push against the metal gates. Even this was to no avail, not even after three more hands were summoned to join it. The doors stayed shut.

Dye swore, looking up at the crenellations lining the wall. No one was there. They were stuck on the way to their destination, couldn’t go forward, didn’t want to go back. He pounded his fists against the doorway, sending repeated gongs reverberating through the air, but to no effect. Then he went all out. Concentrating, he began to feel the flames flaring up inside. All sound was blocked out while the pressure built up to an incinerating level. Then, just as he let loose, he heard the whine of the first arrows. Oblivion quickly threw up a roof of earth over the group, but it began to crumble even as he erected it.

“We have to get out of here!”

“I’m not going back until we have Nathan!”

“If we don’t leave now, half of us are going to be dead! I can’t hold this forever, I’m running out of magic!” Dye looked mournfully at the gates. Every bone in his body screamed for him to keep going. But behind him, he could hear Jake yelping as arrows clattered near his feet, could see another Marcus or another Fire resulting from his determination. And he knew he just couldn’t do it.

“Pull back!” All eyes stared at Dye, wider than they had ever been. “Well, what are you waiting for!?!?!? PULL BACK!!!” Slowly, unwillingly, the squad began to head home. And all around them, the arrows sang.


Blizzard sat down in a nameless bar, suggested to him by Darkest. Boomfus glanced over the bar once, found a nice niche, and sat down in the corner, playing his other guitar. His “harmless” one, which was nothing more than a carved wooden stick with a few pegs and metal strings and a miniature, dried-up great white shark swallowing its fret board. Supposedly it didn’t possess any magic qualities, but Blizzard told him to play quietly anyways. One or two barmaids glanced over in Boomfus’s direction, batting their eyelashes, more at his music than at his looks. The scars on his face stretched as he smiled back at them and strummed a little bit louder.

“So, who is this man you’re looking for?” Blizzard turned back to Darkest, who was drinking out of a large mug. Blizzard himself drank nothing: he had never liked the taste of alcohol.

“We don’t know his name, but we know that he likes to wear a black cloak and hood, is a completely normal human, and has good connections to criminal organizations.”

Darkest laughed. “That’s half the people in this city alone.”

“We also know that he’s recently left, probably moving away from this spot as we speak. We just don’t know where, and how he got wind of us.”

“Well then, he’s either well-informed, or he’s not exactly normal.” Darkest drained his mug, slamming it down on the table.

Blizzard sighed. “Now you know my problem. He could be anywhere, and we wouldn’t know how to deal with him until he strikes.” Suddenly, a waiter came up to their table, holding a folded piece of paper. He handed it to Blizzard, who took it, then looked up at him. He paused for a moment, then opened the piece of paper and read it to himself.

Come at once.

Blizzard stared at the piece of paper, then at the waiter, who was staring blankly at the wall across the room. “Who gave you this?”

“A messenger came in wearing an insignia with a blue eye on a back background. He told me to give this to you.”

Blizzard read the words once over again, then glanced over at Boomfus. He already had a small crowd gathered, clapping in tune to his song. Blizzard strode over, waving him over. Boomfus nodded, mouthing out his response. He wanted to finish his song first. Darkest walked over, peeking over Blizzard’s shoulder at the message.

“Who wrote that, and why?”

“I think it’s Priest’s handwriting.” Blizzard turned around to face Darkest.


“The leader of Requiem.”

Boomfus stood up after finishing his song, coming over to join them. “So, what’s up?”

“This.” Blizzard handed the paper over to Boomfus.

Boomfus’s eyes sped over the piece of scrap. “Come at once...did someone from Requiem send this?” Blizzard nodded. “So...we’re going back now?” Blizzard nodded again. “Do you think it’s a war?” Blizzard nodded a third time. Darkest’s ears perked up at the word “war”. If the clan he had just joined was heading to war already, then things were beginning to look up for him.

“Get you’re things, we’re leaving.”

“I’m ready to go already.”


“Well then.” The three of them headed out into the darkening streets of Tarr. The waiter’s eyes followed them out, a smile forming on his lips. So gullible were the almighty...

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Chapter 20: Almighty
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