Chapter 8: Sowing Season

[Nic]

The previous chapter can be found HERE (http://www.thegamersalliance.net/forums/showthread.php?t=635).

<center><I>The lights of day
Their bound souls four
Will open the way
And seal it once more</I>
-- From the dreams of Kaisa Blackwell</center>

It was a grand day in the majestic Sarquil city of Vanna, the end of one era and the beginning of another...one that Emir Khalid al-Saif hoped would be long and glorious. Sarquil had come from all over the desert to watch the crowning of their new Sultan. Some were ecstatic at the change of leadership, others seemed wary and even bitter, the warnings of generations past echoing in their ears: <I>Should a man ever take the throne, great hardships shall come.</I> And yet, the overwhelming air was one of hope. Even the Sirithai, the desert's ancient race of lizardfolk, seemed hopeful. Their new, uneasy truce with the Sarquil had so far turned out to be beneficial to all.

Khalid stepped forward with his bride, the Libaterran warrior Axikasha Keiran, and the crowd broke into applause. Behind the pair came several of the elders and nobles.

One of the elders made his way to Khalid and Ax, and the two bowed before him. The ancient man muttered in a lilting, rhythmic pattern as he shuffled before them in an incomprehensible dance of ritual. At last, he produced two circlets of entwined white desert roses, flowers sacred to the Sarquil people, and placed them on the two heads before him. He held his hands on their heads for another moment, murmuring prayers and blessings, before he drew away and motioned for the two to stand.

Ax shot Khalid a confused look as she stood up. "Flowers?"

Khalid grinned and took her hand, then held it high, garnering much cheering and applause from the crowd. "Yes. The Sarquil hold the desert rose in high respect, as it retains its beauty and strength even in these harsh conditions. Much like my people. It's just for the ceremony, though. Our leaders don't feel the need to signify their position with trinkets and jewelry. Crowns and such only serve to mark you as a target to your enemy."

Ax nodded. It made sense.

Khalid let go of her hand and motioned for the crowd to be silent. He cleared his throat, his expression turning serious. "Sarquil, mighty people of the desert! The time has come for a new leader. The treacherous Sultana Adela, who poisoned our tribes with the lies and blasphemy of Artemicia for too long, has fled in the night like the coward that she is! I stand before you today to usher in a new era of might and prosperity...as your new Sultan!"

The crowd burst into another round of cheering, but soon quieted as <I>Ax</I> cleared her throat. She smiled. "And as your new Sultana, I have something to say as well."

Khalid gritted his teeth, hoping it could pass for a smile to those watching. This wasn't part of the plan.

Ax stepped forward and continued. "There are people here who mustn't be forgotten. I speak of our Sirithai allies, who have been so generous in forgiving the misdeeds of the past. I hope that we may form a lasting friendship, or at the very least, an agreement of peace. And to sow the seeds of the future, I hereby proclaim that the Sirithai lands be returned to our friends, as the uncontested property of the rightful owners!"

The crowd seemed unsure of what to think of this, but the Sirithai let loose in a storm of approving hisses and shrieks. Khalid eyed Ax, who smiled sweetly. She stepped back and motioned for him to come forward. "Well, come on. Your people await you, <I>Sultan</I>. I certainly hope you're willing to go along with what I just said. We'd hate to have an angry group of Sirithai on our hands, wouldn't we?"

-----------------------------------

Amidst the Vanna commotion, almost unseen, a young elven slave boy collapsed in a few of coughs. Blood streamed freely from his mouth and nose, and even his eyes, as he writhed on the sand in pain. A pair of guards quickly and quietly grabbed the boy by the arms and ushered him away, unceremoniously dumping him in an alley as soon as they were out of sight of the crowd.

It was almost overlooked. Had the archer Rhylian Loras not had such keen elven senses, she might've missed it. She frowned in anger and went to help the boy, knowing there was nothing that could be done, but knowing she needed to try just the same. As she ran to him, she went over the last few days in her head, wondering just how the boy could have been infected. Nesa was gone...the plague was no longer with them.

Was it?

-----------------------------------

In Remon, a small group of mages and warriors warily crept out of the gates of Remonton. As the gates shut coldly behind them, they all felt a sudden chill; their only sanctuary was now behind them, inaccessible. Whatever lay before them, they had no doubt that it would be gruesome and full of hardships. They seemed to huddle closer together as they took their first steps from the gate, each one gripping their chosen weapon tightly, hoping it would be enough to keep them from joining the ranks of undead that swarmed the countryside.

Just yards away, the battered face of Bishop Arbriel Conrad contorted in what might've once been a smile. His minions crept forward, eager to feed on the flesh of the living, but he motioned for them to stay back. No, these paltry travelers weren't his target. As they moved on down the path, he scrambled forward and chuckled. It was just a small opening, probably no more than two inches, but it was enough. He thrust his grubby fingers into the gap and pulled with all of his unholy might, gasping in relief as the gate squeezed open.

By nightfall, it would be over. Remonton was his.

[Kossage]

Khalid felt like throwing up but kept a calm expression on his face. "My heart rejoices to see my Sirithai brothers and sisters happy, and I acknowledge the area of the inner desert as your sanctuary. I hope we can continue the work my mother began years ago. Together our peoples can build a strong nation which will keep these lands safe forever!"

When the Sirithai cheered again, Khalid's fierce eyes turned to Ax. "Never question my authority again. My people are still getting used to the idea of being led by a man, and the last thing I want right now is that a <i>woman</i> challenges my status by making decisions without consulting with me," he whispered. "I'll tolerate your recklessness this once, but there'll be a price to pay for this favour. Remember that you reap what you sow."

Ax raised an eyebrow. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"We'll talk about it later... in private," the Sultan replied bluntly and turned to an elderly mage who approached him. "Ah, Lord Waldheim. I trust my libraries were of use to you?"

"In a way... yes. However, my quest isn't over yet. I still need more information about Blood Fever, and the next city with a large library is Alent. I've already taken the liberty to join a group that will travel there." Waldheim's eyes narrowed. "Would you care to accompany us, Your Majesty? From what I learned from Leon Alcibiates, we'll need all the high-ranking people we can get to persuade the Alentians to let us access their libraries."

Khalid sighed. "Unfortunately I must stay. It'll take time to stabilize things in Vanna, and my presence is sorely needed. I'll be sure to send a Sarquil representative to Alent in my stead, though. Perhaps Azriel al-Zarar would be a good choice? He's a learned man and has dealt with Alentian traders before."

Waldheim looked disappointed but nodded. "Very well. I look forward to seeing where your path leads you and your people. You'll become a greater man than your father ever was, that much is certain. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to prepare for the journey."

#

"Mother... I've failed."

Unithien Greyrain tried to hold back tears as she watched the still figure of her comatose mother, Varalia Earthhaven, in one of the infirmaries of Vanna. She could have prevented all of this if she had been strong enough. But she had failed once more, and this time it had nearly cost her the life of the one person she held dear.

She suddenly felt an arm on her shoulder and saw a white-robed, bearded man. "Your Holiness!" she gasped.

"It's unfortunate that your mother had to suffer like that, but there was nothing we could do," Jonathan Ferron said quietly.

"No... I could've done something but my magic wasn't good enough. I'm a failure," Unithien muttered. Suddenly she raised her head. "I want to become a better mage. I was weak, and I almost lost my mother because of that. I won't let it happen again! I know you can help me. Please!"

Ferron smiled. "It'll be a rough road, child, but I'm sure that together we can succeed and spread the love of our god. However, are <i>you</i> willing to go all the way even if it means learning to harness the darkness within?"

Unithien looked at Ferron with determined eyes and stood up. "Yes. No matter what it takes, I won't give up!"

#

Heavy, dark clouds loomed over Maar Sul City while three figures hurried through the quiet streets. Lightning illuminated the sky and soon first raindrops hit their target: the head of a half-Scun detective.

"Great! Now there's a facking storm to worry about too! You bastards up there just couldn't hold that crap in a little while longer, could you?" Arthur Fonzarelli muttered and cursed the gods in his Scunnish dialect while he and his pet monkey Ted led the pregnant elven girl, Tiyana Natiya, towards the city centre.

Shit had really hit the fan, Fonzie thought bitterly. There was a facking gang war going on between the Nightstalkers and the Mathesons, and it seemed that some very influential people from the city's elite could be involved too. Fonzie had digged too deep this time around with his investigation. He knew the girl was trouble but he could not just abandon her. If there was a conspiracy going on, he had to find out who was responsible, and the girl was his only clue.

He could not take the girl to his apartment or to the hospital because their enemies might be waiting for them there. They could be taken under the wing of SAVAGE, the city's military corps, but Fonzie's instincts told him not to trust them. If any higher-ups were involved in this case, then it was likely that they had spies in SAVAGE too. No, there was only one place which neither the gangs nor SAVAGE would search because they would never expect such a bold move.

Fonzie led Tiyana to the office of Lieutenant X.

[Nic]

"A favor?" Ax laughed. "Just remember who saved your life...and helped you gain your throne, <I>Sultan</I>. There's nothing further to discuss right now. I need to speak to my friends, I'll be at the inn."

She smiled sweetly again and walked away.

~

A few minutes later, she arrived at the inn, finding the building oddly dark and quiet. She placed a hand on the hilt of Dawn, her senses tingling.

"Now, now...is that any way to greet a friend?" a distorted voice mocked from the shadows.

Ax spun, sword drawn in an instant. She narrowed her eyes. "A friend wouldn't be hiding in the shadows. Who are you?"

A cloaked figure emerged into the light. "Someone you know well. But that doesn't matter anymore...what matters is that you give me that blade. It's far too dangerous for someone like <I>you</I> to be holding. Or must we do this the hard way?"

Ax frowned. The figure appeared to be alone...did they really expect to subdue her one on one? She raised her sword. "The hard way sounds fun. Are you sure you--"

With blinding speed, the cloaked figure advanced upon her. With brutal efficiency, the attacker smashed into her, knocking the wind out of her. Before she had time to recover, the figure was upon her once again, choking her with an icy, steel grip. Dawn clattered away, out of reach as she gasped for air. The figure chuckled.

"You're right, this is more fun. For too long, I've hidden my true power. But soon...soon <I>all</I> will know my true might! I sincerely hope you're there to witness it, Ax."

As Ax continued to struggle, the figure drew her near. She felt a light kiss brush her lips, and then the pressure on her neck was building, building to the point that she couldn't take it anymore. She clawed desperately at her attacker's arms, but it was no use...she felt the last of her strength fading, and then she felt nothing.

Satisfied, the figure let her body fall heavily on the floor, then stooped to pick up Dawn. With a cold smile, the figure melted away into the darkness once more.

[Matthew]

Jono was jolted awake suddenly by noises from a struggle downstairs. The other occupant of his bed was sound asleep, breathing softly underneath the covers. He crept stealthily from her side, and only took time to quickly cover his naked lower half with a towel and grab his sword before running out of his room and down the stairs.

He paused in mid step when he sensed a still form below him. He knelt and drew in a deep breath, identifying Ax underneath the smell of some sort of flower. He felt for a pulse, finding a weak heart beat. He then began searching the room for the sounds and smells of her assailant, but nothing but a disconcerting void, as if no one but Ax and he had been in this room recently, met his keen senses.

There was no chance of finding the attacker, so Jono concentrated on Ax. Trailing his fingers down her face, and then on her neck, he found indentations where powerful hands had choked her out. After finding this, he immediately began resuscitating her. Alternating between sessions of mouth to mouth and heart pumping, she finally coughed up some air of her own into Jono's face. Eyes looked around nervously before she remembered where she was and why.

"J-?"

"Sorry about that, would usually buy you a little dinner before some mouth to mouth action and feeling you up, but time was short and my pants were already off."

"J-!"

"No time for thanks, need to know what kinda of beastie attacked you so I can chase it down and save the day."

"J-...ono."

"Yes?"

"Call me some help and, please, go get dressed."

Hesitant about leaving Ax alone, in spite of how angry he was with her still over their past, he poked his head out the door only momentarily to shout for members of the Blades and the Alliance. Then he waited alongside until they were finally joined by some loud and questioning types. He ignored them and went about following that other order by scaring up some pants.

[Dignified Pauper]

To Maar Sul again. Nymgrock thought as they traveled to Fragnar. He really hated the desert.

Swenson and Sky rode beside him, Adram follow just behind and Shyralis and Izael yet further. Nymgrock was annoyed by these errands. Remonton would not be saved. Part of him wanted to take Swenson and go South, past Sanae, through the mountain pass, and into Aison. He was tired of these errands they ran. These people were so helpless. Although, he was partly responsible for tearing the nation apart.

****

She felt them, so hungry, and yearning to pass. The wave of undead that crawled across the land fed into her mind and she could see him. The priest of Cardia, his followers, and the horror that was befalling Remonton. She watched it all from her sanctuary as the images flooded her mind, and the voices were clenching her.


THE BLOOD PACT DRIVES THEM.
CURSED ONE, KEEP SLEEPING.
WAIT FOR THEM TO ARRIVE.
WAIT FOR YOUR RELEASE.


She felt them. The city in the desert and its people being slaughtered by the masses. What a foul beast she was, overseeing them for her pleasure. The brilliant city would fall, she foresaw it, and the ones she waited for was going to be pushed southward. Closer. And she waited for their arrival. She waited to be woken.

[The Last Oath]

A tiny light illuminated a dark office, shining its light on the numerous papers scattered around Lieutenant X's desk. Bang, Bang. There was a storm outside, strong winds made the tree branches swing from side to side and knock street elements around. Bang, Bang-BANG BANG BANG. Is someone knocking at the door? Lieutenant X thought, peering through the front window, outside pelts of rain hammered down and he could make out two figures standing at his office door.

The Lieutenant took his time to put his papers away, ancient symbols and incantations hidden away in his drawer. He swung open the door from the inside to come face to face with the Scun detective, Arthur Fonzarelli. The detective looked stressed...and drenched, but Lieutenant X didnt offer him to come inside. "It's late, and theres a gang war to be investigating detective. I believe you were there." Fonzarelli pounced with his speech, "Yes, I was there-... I didnt see you though.." Arthur thought suspuciously, then he wondered if Lieutenant X was also conspiring. "Look, its a long story but I cant trust the Maar Sulais authorities anymore and I have my concerns about SAVAGE."

"I am an authority in this city. Why does it seem you trust me?" Lieutenant X replied

"But your not by the book now are you, you have your own procedures and I'm guessing complex motivations too. I need a favour Lieutenant." Fonzie took a step back and from around the corner, Tiyana Natiya walked into view of Lieutenant X. This startled the Lieutenant, his goal being brought to him?, but he kept his expressions constant. He signified for the three to come inside.

***

Nivek Cheavin and his companions Eadin and Royt slunk in there new prison dungeon. They were put in one dungeon, and the few other Nightstalkers that were with them after Koryaksky was shoved down the man-hole were in another dungeon down the corrider. By the sounds of moans and squeals coming from the supposed interrogation room, it was all torture and no interrogating, for the time being.

Surprisingly, only two Matheson gang-members were being held in the dungeons, however they seemed to be in comfortable conditions. Obviously, Nivek thought, the Nightstalkers wernt the only ones with connections in the police force. The Mathesons just clicked their fingers and the detectives were suddenly against the Nightstalkers, only two weeks ago Recantim was sitting in the head detectives office on quite friendly terms, until Lieutenant X arrived.

Perhaps he was behind the Mathesons assault on the Nightstalkers, maybe the Mathesons could be persuaded to side with the Nightstalkers and eliminate the new Lt for a sizable sum. Koryaksky did freak out when he saw that man sitting on a rooftop, maybe that was him. Nivek was sure of it, The Mathesons didnt care about his Nightstalkers and their affairs, but this Lieutenant X was a freak of the law.

#

Briss thought about Adela's slim, tanned body while he began his personal, undercover mission.

[Matthew]

Fel adjusted his pack and looked up at his ride back to Remon. A shabby vessel, captained by a man with one eye, one peg leg, and two dexterous claws in place of hands, which promised to deliver him home for the small price of whatever was left in his purse. The crew seemed weird, but not dangerous or shady. Besides, the price and timing were right.

He had left Vanna hung over, riding precariously atop a cheap and sickly camel through the desert. He had just made it in sight of the closest harbor town before the damn camel fell over dead. Fel dragged the corpse into town, selling it to a shady restaurateur, and then made his way to the pub.

There Captain Murphy, a scarred horror who possessed the ability relate some freak accident he had been in as a segue to just about anything, and the aforementioned maimed mariner, awaited work with an entourage that included a teenage Sarquil girl in corsair regalia, a pair of identical Scunds of differing sexes with short hair and wearing striped prisoner attire, a towering and powerful Yamatoan man armed with a large, curved spear, and a male half-elf, half-dwarf first mate with dark hair and a permanent sour puss expression.

Negotiations went quickly, with the crew confiscating all his money and drinking themselves into stupors. The girl, Aza, promised everything would be ready shortly after the crew woke up. And the day had finally arrived, with Fel little reassured. He stepped on board and was greeted enthusiastically by Aza and Captain Murphy, neutrally by the Scunds and the Yamatoan, and hostilely by the half-elf, half-dwarf.

Turning around, Fel bid one last farewell to the Libaterran landscape, and then followed Aza to where he'd be bunking in this rusty tin can.

[Kossage]

Fonzie sighed with relief. "We won't be bothering you for long, Lieutenant. It's just that this girl over here knows things that might help us solve this case. I wish to interrogate her, and I hope you can help me," he said to Lieutenant X and turned to Tiyana. "Look, this is nothing personal. Whatever those bastards did to you won't happen again. I just want you to answer a few questions, and in exchange you and your unborn kid will be safe. Do we have a deal?"

#

A trio led their camels through the Sarquil desert. A black-cloaked woman turned to her companions. "From here on we have two options. We'll either go to Alent to resupply or we'll try to reach the river in the west and cross it. If we reach the river, we'll find allies on the other side."

Adela al-Saif, the former Sultana of Vanna, frowned. "What makes you so sure that there'll be anyone to meet us there, Zenobia? Alent would be a safer place than--"

Zenobia grinned under her hood. "You'd be surprised if you knew what resources the Coalition has in its disposal, my lady," she replied and turned her eyes to Briss. "How about you, Mr. Phoenixheart? I'm sure you'll be as eager as your Sultana to get to safety before the Alliance hunts you down."

#

Khalid sighed. It was never easy to deal with Ax but that was probably why she intrigued him. He was sure that she would help him... he just had to <i>persuade</i> her a bit to make her see things his way.

Suddenly the pain returned. He had thought that it had only been fatigue but this was different. It felt as if his cheek--no, his whole body--was on fire.

Strong arms caught the sweating Sultan before he could fall down. He looked at the calm face of Ismail, the captain of his guard. "Are you alright, Khalid?" the warrior asked.

Khalid grimaced. "What does it look like?" he hissed. "Just... take me to my room at once."

Ismail narrowed his eyes when he noticed Khalid's wound. "Poison! I'll alert the clerics and--"

The Sultan grabbed Ismail's arm and pulled him closer. "No, they mustn't see me weak! I'm the father of the tribes, and I must be strong for their sake!" he rasped. "I'll be alright. I just need to rest for a while."

Ismail frowned but motioned at two guards who escorted the trembling Sultan to his quarters in the palace. He then hurried to the dungeons, knowing that the ones who were responsible for his lord's wound were still locked up down there. The black captain clenched his fists. He had already lost his friend Belial to the agents of the Crimson Coalition, but he would <i>not</i> lose Khalid too.

#

Refan carefully placed a piece of cake in a nearby alley, closed his eyes and waited. He did not like this feeling. He felt darkness creeping closer and absorbing all the light while cries drowned in rivers of blood. Although it was horrible, a part of him seemed to enjoy it, and <i>that</i> scared him more than anything else. The thief suddenly opened his eyes and caught an arm which was reaching for the cake.

"Gimme a break, No-More-Beardy! Don't take my sweet, delicious dessert from me!" a ravenous-looking man pouted. "I have a belly ache, and only Mr. Cake's super duper powers can cure it!"

"There's something that has been troubling me lately, Ronove, and I want answers," Refan stated calmly. "When that bastard Iblis fled at the end of the battle, he said he knew you and--"

"Flame Beardy? Dunno why he said that. He sort of reminded me of you, actually, but other than that I didn't know what he was talking about," Ronove sighed and tried to reach for the cake. "Oh, come on! Don't torture me like this? It's not fair!"

The thief''s grip was firm. "You can have it once you've answered my questions. I noticed something earlier: you're carrying a Totenkopf flag and a monstrous skull which seems to belong to some demon. What are you hiding?"

Ronove blinked and looked as clueless as before. "Jolly Roger and Yorick have nothing to do with it! I just picked people's pockets to find cake and I happened to find my friends. They're nice, aren't they? Anyway, can I have my cake now?"

Refan sighed and let Ronove devour the cake. He should have known that it would be useless to get any sensible information out of him. And yet he felt like something was crawling under his skin, and this uneasy feeling did not leave him alone. Maybe Ronove had been involved in something without knowing it? But what had Iblis's part been in all of that, then? So many questions, so few answers.

The thief was about to say something when he heard voices coming from below. Had that been Jono's voice? Something had happened at the inn. He grabbed Ronove's arm and hurried towards the inn. He wanted to know what was going on down there, but he also wanted to keep an eye on this scarred fool just in case.

[Matthew]

Khalid was in his room for a second before the blow came. A fist came out of the darkness and he was thrown violently to the ground. While Khalid recovered, the attacker calmly lit an oil lamp near the door. Khalid stared up Azriel al-Zarar enraged, a man who not long ago in the scheme of things would still be a slave in Vanna's warrior caste, reduced by his natural weakness to an even more pathetic role, had struck his Sultan. They traded looks in the lamplight. Khalid's was a wide-eyed, surprised glare, and Azriel just looked down calmy like a disciplinarian parent. Seconds passed before Azriel finally spoke.

"A man who is not Tronin himself sits on the throne. Beyond the disastrous
prophecies, we are also flirting with war from both Trinity Gask and the Southern Hordes. Our main defense against demons is shattered. And what does our sultan do? Ignore fatal injuries, play at pathetic games trying to turn his fake wife into his real wife, and open our lands to our most ancient enemies. What other changes did you have in mind to enforce without consulting representatives of your people? How do you plan to produce the daughter your people demand? Do you wish to divide us again in a moment where we're most fragile?"

"You're out of li-"

"You won't be pawning me off to these foreigners as their token Sarquil to get me out of the way, my lord. My work here is not finished so long as our people teeter on the edge of oblivion. You and I can only hope to prepare them for the coming battles if we work together."

At this, Azriel knelt down next to Khalid and reached for his face. He swatted away a defensive blow from the sultan and actually laughed. Then he laid his hand on the man's cheek and used Tronin's power to purge the poison ravaging his body. They were both surrounded by a white light, and for a second Khalid could swear he felt a mind outside his and Azriel's right before the burning fled his body like water from a container. Then the light was gone and the cleric stood, and headed for the door without another word.

[Matthew]

Jono was putting on his boots when he woke up his guest. He heard a yawn, followed a little after by a search for her own clothing.

After a moment of awkward silence, Jono spoke suddenly in realization.

"Sophia."

"You finally got it right."

"Hmm?"

"You called me Vaetris a couple of times."

He coughed, and said, "Well, you know. Vaetris is Old Eblanan for endless beauty."

"And coincidentally the name of one of the Blades leaders."

"Pure coincidence."

Footsteps. She was already almost changed and ready to leave.

"Listen, I don't even care. Everybody has been in a euphoric haze since the big win, and I was looking to celebrate as much as you. It didn't mean that much. Sex is very life affirming, and we were both in an... affirming mood."

"Oh? Going to feel up for affirming life again anytime soon?"

He felt a hand on his.

"Maybe. But I don't think it's what you really want."

And then she was gone.

"..."

What did she mean? What could he really want?

"... Bah!"

Grumbling, he picked up his sword and went downstairs to check on Ax.

[Kossage]

Ismail entered the room a moment after Azriel had left. "What happened?" the black captain asked. Khalid reluctantly explained the incident with Azriel, and Ismail frowned. "So, there's more power in Azriel than we expected. To think that I was on the verge of asking the Vulfsatz to cure you because the poison was their doing. It's good to hear that I don't have to resort to that anymore."

"You were going to negotiate with them? They're our prisoners and not our guests!" Khalid growled. "I already have enough trouble keeping that damn cleric and my wife on a tight leash, and the last thing I want is to see <i>you</i> cause trouble as well!" He calmed down and hung his head. "I... I'm sorry, Ismail. The things I said to you now and during the battle in the throne room... I didn't mean any of it. I'm just tired. We've been going from battle to battle, and I've hardly had time to rest ever since the death of my father. I don't--" Ismail's fist suddenly connected with Khalid's face, and the Sultan's eyes grew wide.

"Never apologize to your subjects, Khalid! I thought I'd trained you better than that. Now stand up and stop whining like a baby. You're a warrior descended from Tronin himself, and I won't let your father be ashamed of you," Ismail said harshly. "I understand how you feel, but you too must understand that you've acted without thinking things through. There are many people out there who feel that you shouldn't have taken the throne for yourself. If you're not careful, they might rally behind a woman or even a cleric like Azriel. There are other threats on the horizon too. Iblis and Awar escaped and swore to return someday. We have to mobilize our forces and ask for help from the Alliance and Alent before that happens. We've never had to face an entire army of demons in battle, and if the Black Stone did have an important role in protecting this city before it was destroyed, we mustn't waste any time."

The Sultan sighed. "I suppose. We also have to deal with our unwanted guests. The last thing we want right now is to let the Coalition know that we have their precious allies locked up in here. Adela was allied with the Coalition and escaped, so she'll let them know about our prisoners. We must get rid of the brat and his lackeys; I have no interest in the struggle between Alent, Maar Sul and the Coalition, and we can't afford to have a war against both Iblis's faction and the Coalition." He narrowed his eyes. "Our friends are working for the Grand Alliance which opposes the Crimson Coalition. Let them take care of our prisoners for us!"

Ismail scratched his chin. "Speaking of that... I talked with the boy, Hannibal Losstarot. He demands a meeting with the leaders of the Alliance and wants his Vulfsatz to be present too. He says it's important. He's as bold as a Sarquil youth; he's not like an ordinary child at all. I sense great darkness in him."

"That brat dares give us orders? What nerve!" Khalid hissed, but suddenly a wicked smile spread on his face. "Fine, let's play his game for now and hear him out. Take them to the Hall of Elders and summon Prince Leon, Kings Khasra and Marcus and whoever else might be interested in hearing what they have to say. And find Ax! I'm not through with her yet, and I want her to be present too. Azriel has complicated things, and I need to get everything sorted out before Waldheim's group heads for Alent."

"Don't strain yourself too hard with Ax. She has a fiery spirit, and you won't be able to tame her easily. You may desire a daughter from her but it won't be easy to convince her," the black captain stated.

The Sultan narrowed his eyes. "Just get going and leave Ax to me. I'll meet you all in the Hall of Elders in half an hour. Don't be late; I may require your assistance once we've dealt with Losstarot."

Ismail was about to open his mouth but then thought better of it and left the room. He did not like the look in Khalid's eyes. For the first time he prayed that the young man had not inherited too much of Belial's stubborn determination.

[The Last Oath]

Tiyana put her hands on her stomach and looked down. Her brain cringed for a pint of White Remon, but her motherly instincts must have started to kick in. "Ok, I'll help you.. But first I need some rest." Tiyana looked frustrated and stressed, she turned to Lieutenant X. "Will I be safe here?"

The Lieutenant grinned, "Safer than a turtle in its shell young elf." Lieutenant X then spoke to Fonzarelli by the front door before the scun-detective left his office, "I'll keep her here until you begin your interrogations.. Which I suppose will be here too. Dont worry detective, you can keep the elfess with me for as long as you wish, but don't think I won't remember this favour, you shall repay me when the time comes." The detective then headed back out into the stormy rain.

#

Briss laughed once and grinned, "She's not my Sultana, but I shall keep her safe and we shouldn't head to Alent, Zenobia."

The totenkopf look sharply at the man, "You are fine to travel without a resupply?"

"Supplying is not the reason. I was there not too long ago and if word gets that I'm in cahoots with, Sultana, it wouldnt be too hard for a city full of mages to recognise me. Lets head west for the river."

[Matthew]

Koryaksky emerged from his cell in a surly mood. An officer removed his cuffs and directed him to a desk where he signed for his possessions, and then was released into the custody of Rafe. The dark haired man smiled without any humor.

"Things not go well?"

"No, not at all. Is there any way we can have them all whacked in their cells?"

"Because that wouldn't be suspicious."

"... What did my brother say?"

"You mean when I was in Matheson giving him your message? 'Congratulations! You've made the family proud.'"

"... Fuck."

"You're damn right, fuck. What's next, fearless leader?"

"Well, first, we get the boys. Lay low until the heat is off."

"Already working on it."

"Next, we find Lieutenant X."

"Oh?"

Koryaksky unsheathed his sword, staring at the naked blade. His blood was still up from the battle.

"The Lieutenant thinks he can play a Matheson man, Rafe. This bastard is about to learn the error of his ways in a trial of blood."

They walked out, Rafe with a worried expression. These aren't the actions of a sane man, he thought bitterly.

[Matthew]

Captain Murphy's vessel, The Law, soldiered on through hell and high water. While the crew was steering and maintaining the boat, its captain sat drinking with Fel in the small kitchen/dining room. Pans and metal kitchenware clanked together as the ship rocked atop the waves, and they had to down their drinks in single gulps to avoid spillage. After a while, the living scar tissue that was Murphy belched out a question, "So why you be headed to Remon?"

"Going home to Remonton," Fel said. And he poured himself another drink, which was quickly drained.

"Bah, only stepped foot in that hellhole once, and once was enough. Left with three javelins in my backside from the local constabulary over some small indiscretion, and nary a penny left to me name. Crawled over half the continent to get back to me ship, and swore never to enter that hellhole again for my bottom's sake. I made the same oath for the whole of Scundia, but for... other reasons..."

A sober look came over the Captain, which he went to rectify by drinking heavily, straight from the bottle. Fel took one for himself and clinked his to the captain's in a toast. It was nice not having to work. Maybe it would be quiet in Remon, too.

[Nic]

In mere minutes, it was over. Rhylian gently laid the boy down, sweeping a hand over his blood-soaked eyes, hoping the boy could find some peace...but his contorted features looked anything but peaceful. She knew she was taking a chance, being this close to yet another infected elf, but at least the boy hadn't died alone.

She sighed and stood, still wondering how Nesa had managed to infect the boy. Perhaps he'd been present at the battle somehow? She wiped her bloodied hands on her pants and tried to clear her mind. Wondering about the details wouldn't do any good.

A sudden yell for help from the direction of the inn caught her attention. She gave the boy one last glance before running towards the inn, wondering what might be wrong now.

-----------------------------------

"I'm fine," Ax grumbled. "Get off me already!"

Annoyed, the female warrior swatted away her caretakers, doing her best to ignore the concerned stares of her friends. It was Refan who asked the obvious question. "What happened, Ax?"

Ax stood up shakily, one hand still gently rubbing her bruised throat. "I...don't know. I came in and got attacked. Whoever it was, they were strong...damn strong. The voice didn't sound familiar, but I expect they were disguising it with magic. And..." she hung her head. "Dawn is gone. But whoever it is must still be in the city! We have to find them!"

Vaetris and Signan exchanged a glance. Signan nodded. "I'll get on it at once!"

[Kossage]

The group's journey through the vast landscape of Northern Remon had been without any incident so far, but the eerie quietness all around made some of the heroes look nervously around. The undead and their terrified victims were nowhere to be seen. The only thing that the travellers did see was the occasional bloodstain on grass. No bird sang, no animal appeared... everything was still. Even the wind had calmed.

"I have a <i>baaad</i> feeling about this," Swenson said.

Adram's hand rested on the hilt of his sword. "No kidding. There's more action in a grave than in these wretched Bloodlands."

Once the group climbed up a nearby hill, they saw the walls of Fragnar looming ahead. "This is it," Izael muttered. "I hope that the city's Church of the Memory of Cardia will be more receptive to us than this environment."

"Let's keep moving. The sooner we get this over with, the better," Shyralis hissed, and the group proceeded towards Fragnar.

#

Ismail entered the inn and bowed when he saw Ax. "Lord Khalid requires your presence in the Hall of Elders. The Losstarot boy has demanded a meeting with the leaders of the Alliance. I've already informed Marcus, Khasra and the others."

"Since when have you been taking orders from prisoners of war?" Jonathan Ferron asked harshly as he and Unithien appeared on the scene.

"Lord Khalid is eager to hear the voices of his enemies and not just his friends. There are many things we don't know about the Crimson Coalition, and hopefully the meeting will shed some light on the subject. You should come too, Lord Ferron, as a representative of your church," Ismail explained and turned to face Ax once more. "Come with me, Lady Ax. We shouldn't keep your husband waiting."

Refan stepped between Ismail and Ax. "What if she's not in the mood? You don't even know what has happened to her recently, so--"

"Lord Khalid and Lady Ax have made a sacred vow, and they now share one flesh and blood. What one of them wills, the other does. Don't question our traditions. Whatever has happened here can wait until the meeting is over," Ismail interrupted. "You and your companions are welcome to attend the meeting too as long as you remember your place."

Refan sighed. He did not like this at all. Why would anyone have to bother talking to an enemy anyway? It had never done anyone any good. Refan's thoughts turned back to Khalid, and he clenched his fists. He secretly hoped that Ax would defy that egoistical bastard of a Sultan; after all, he still could not understand what she had possibly seen in Khalid that she had not seen in him.

#

A quiet voice broke the silence in the Maar Sulais cells which held the Nightstalkers. "It's frustrating to be like a bird in a cage, isn't it, Nivek? Wouldn't you like to spread your wings once more?"

Nivek's face remained unreadable even when he noticed a cloaked, skull-masked figure emerging from the shadows outside the cell. "Who are you?" he asked calmly.

"A friend... but you may call me Thrax," the figured replied. "I represent a group known as the Totenkopfs. We've monitored your activities and observed this gang war, and we've come to the conclusion that this environment doesn't let your true talents shine."

Nivek's eyes narrowed. "Flattery won't get you anywhere. What do you want?"

Thrax tilted his head. "Oh, it's the other way around, Nivek. The real question is: what do <i>you</i> want? Escape, slaughter the Mathesons, find Lieutenant X? We can make all of that happen, and more."

"That's awfully kind of someone I've never met," Nivek muttered. "Everyone has their price. What is yours?"

"All we ask for is an alliance. Your forces help us establish ties to the underworld, and in exchange we make the influential people in this city look elsewhere when you do your business. May this be a sign of our goodwill." Thrax snapped his fingers, and the locks in the cells melted. "If you leave now, you can reach the storage where they're keeping your weapons. We've already taken care of the guards. If you choose to accept our offer, go to the former shop of Sajon Phoenixheart. The rest will take care of itself."

The Totenkopf's figure seemed to melt into the shadows that surrounded him, and then he was gone.

[Matthew]

Jono stepped downstairs as Signan was leaving in search of Dusk. He whiffed cinnamon scented soap under a lotion and very little musk. Vaetris has bathed very recently. Following this realization was the voice of an angel, giving orders and shoving her inferiors along. Jono floated over to her side, and managed a greeting.

"Hi, Jono. Not a good time. Got to organize a Ax's attacker and sword."

"I was here right after the attack and got zilch, I don't suspect this hombre is going to leave much of a trail for your people."

"Forgive me if I don't take your blind samurai senses as the ultimate authority here. And I really am busy, Jono, so bye."

A rush of footsteps, and they soon faded. Heat touched his face, and he muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, sure, bye. I'll just be over here somewhere banging my head against the wall repeatedly."

Feeling stupid, he wandered to find a room where he suspected he might do just that until something emerged to hit.

Later, after Ismail's entrance, he followed the group headed towards Hannibal's meeting.

[Kossage]

Ismail led the group into the Hall of Elders where others were already waiting. They were greeted by the strange combination of anxious and broody stares.

"You may speak," Khalid said bluntly.

Unithien guessed from the reactions of the surrounding Sarquil elders that this was not a normal way to open a discussion. She realized that this was Khalid's way of showing his authority over others, and she wondered what had happened to make him act so recklessly. The Sultan's eyes looked the darkest of all the gloomy eyes in the hall, and yet they looked eager as well. For a moment she thought that she had seen a glimpse of Belial in him but the effect was soon gone.

The boy, Hannibal, looked around. His eyes looked unnaturally calm. "I am Master Losstarot. I know who you are; you oppose my mother, Glaurung Losstarot, and in so doing you oppose the Crimson Coalition and our ideals of freedom and a world without borders. I've called you all here to demand the immediately release of not only myself but also of my loyal servants. We have no interest in Sarquil politics and won't intefere as long as the Sarquil don't oppose us. Release us, and your lives will be spared."

"A bold speech from a prisoner like yourself, and yet you forget your position," Ferron hissed. "We've learned enough of the Coalition from our Maar Sulais allies, and many of us know what other Losstarots did to this world many, many years ago. You're in no position to demand anything."

"I expected more of you, Jonathan Ferron. You were once a servant of Mardük, the one god who promoted freedom above all else, the freedom and justice which the Coalition now seeks. It's interesting that you let Cardia's reavers shackle you," Hannibal replied sharply and turned to Khalid. "The longer you keep me here, the more you'll anger my mother. And those who anger my mother also anger the Coalition. I've heard of these recent developments: you've been betrayed by not one but two allies. One is certainly on his way to Trinity Gask with the former Sultana Adela and the other is travelling to Yamato to rally demon forces. Can you really afford a war on two fronts?"

Khalid's eyes narrowed. "You don't know what--"

Hannibal smiled but it was the smile of a fox that had just caught a rabbit. "You'd be surprised if you knew how many eyes we have among you even now. But like I said, arguing is pointless. Let us go, and you have one less threat to worry about. Defy us, and you lose everything."

Arguments broke out. Two groups formed quickly. Some suggested that Hannibal and the Vulfsatz should be kept as prisoners and that they should be taken to Alent as valuable hostages in order to gain a powerful ally from the mages of that city who opposed the Coalition. Others argued that Hannibal had been Adela's prisoner, had no ill will against the current Sarquil government and would be grateful if the Alliance let him go. This side also reminded people that a war on two fronts would be impossible and it was the lesser of two evils to let a potential threat go than wait for a possible catastrophe.

"The Coalition must be backing up the Proninists in Maar Sul and fighting against the Alliance's forces there at the moment. That's why it's imperative to have a valuable bargaining tool such as this boy, who is none other than the son of the leader of the Coalition. A Losstarot is too dangerous to be left alone, and we can use him to end this conflict between the Alliance and the Coalition before it gets worse," Waldheim said. "However, it's also true that we can't keep this boy and the Vulfsatz here. The treacherous actions from Briss Phoenixheart ensure that the Coalition will soon know where the young Losstarot is being kept in, and Vanna can't fight against the Coalition while the Sarquil tribes are still getting used to their new ruler."

Marcus leaned forward. "I suppose you have an idea in mind to solve this problem, then?"

"Indeed I do. I suggest a compromise. Some of us will travel to Alent soon, and it serves our interests to take these prisoners with us. That ensures that they won't be in Vanna and thus the Coalition has no reason to attack the Sarquil. This should also make young Losstarot happy as he gets closer to his home. The mages in Alent don't like the Coalition and will certainly appreciate if we bring such valuable prisoners to their city." Waldheim turned his eyes to one of the Vulfsatz, Rhys, who looked pale. "I don't think any of you will be objecting either. Your comrade is already infected with the Blood Fever. If you value his life, you need to accompany us to Alent which has vast libraries. Hopefully we'll find clues to a cure in that city."

"The mage speaks wisely. Lord Jemuel will be pleased if you decide to present him with such a gift," the Alentian paladins stated while the Alentian councillor Harrad seemed to contemplate on what he had heard.

Ferron nodded. "I agree with you. If there's one place where we can keep a Losstarot locked up as long as necessary, it'll be Alent. No one can escape from there, and we do need to earn the trust of the Council of Mages. What better way to do that than to present a <i>gift</i> like this to them?"

Khalid grinned.and looked at the people who had gathered in the hall. "Our friends from Alent and the Church of the Memory of Cardia are already supporting Lord Waldheim. What say the rest of you?"

[Matthew]

"And I thought I was surrounded be black-hearted demons in the heart of Yamato," moaned Jono, rubbing his eyelids through the blindfold. He was loud enough to offend all sorts of people. He took this moment to stand on a nearby table. "But here I find myself in Vanna, among ye honored personages of the Alliance and the Sultanate, shoulder to shoulder with simpering monsters willing to compromise morality for any edge in their damn war."

"Quiet yourself, sellsword. Your opinion has no weight," said Jonathan Ferron.

"I believe all men should have a chance to be heard, even craven traitors who now fancy themselves priests."

He cut off Ferron's politician response with dramatic leap to Hannibal's side.

"The Vulfsatz, they're a death squad, soldiers. This sort of thing comes with the job. But in spite of his heritage, and your pants-wetting frights over him turning into the next Syndey or Arawn one day, Hannibal is a child. Separated from his mother. And you're willing to hand him to her enemy, have his life threatened in some cowardly attempt to cow her assault... and then what when she doesn't give in? Slit his throat? Move on to Plan B?"

He swivelled his head, looking without seeing at the noble company that had marched from Remon, and sneered.

"If this is what the Grand Alliance has turned itself into in these many years... I'd rather go deal with the demons again. At least they don't fancy themselves heroes while bathing in the entrails of their enemies."

And with this he left, too used to the battlefield to trust himself not to pull out a sword and start hacking in the middle of intellectual debate. The ghost of an idea was forming, anyway, to kill two birds with one stone.

[Citizen Bleys]

"I don't like it," muttered Leon. "The Coalition may be financially backing the Proninists, but they are not encroaching on Maar Sulais soil at this point. Angering them further may spur them into an invasion, and we have enough problems on the home front."

Khasra demurred. "The Coalition is already the enemy. Appeasement won't go very far--it certainly didn't help the weaker nations who joined up with Arawn Losstarot. The boy is a valuable bargaining chip. As long as we've got him, the Coalition won't want to spur us into doing anything drastic. Much as I'd like to take the moral high ground, Scundia is closer to Trinity Gask than Maar Sul.

useless post is useless

[Dignified Pauper]

Fragnar, it appeared, had not been spared the ravage across Remon. The entire city was a mere shade of what it used to be, and there, closer to the mountains, was the brilliant chapel rising above. If there were any survivors, surely, they were being held there. The Grand Inquisitor would certainly be happy to see that others across the countryside had survived, if he still had.

The group strode through on their horses, watching carefully. The homes were all abandoned, and the smell of the dead was in the air, but the undead seemed to be nowhere in sight. Perhaps they had left the city after ravaging it, or maybe the clerics had conquered the zombies, and now holed up in Fragnar, awaiting salvation.

Cardia won't save you fools now. Nymgrock thought to himself. He looked at Swenson. If anything was to happen, he would teleport he and Swenson out of danger.

[The Last Oath]

Nivek sat, looking at the dungeon door. He was starteled by the proposal. Slowly, he got up and tapped the door, it opened. Nivek woke up Royt and Eadin, "Time to go boys." Royt and Eadin were amazed, but they knew they could ask questions later, and the Nightstalker team walked out into the street.

*

"Where the hell is this, Phoenixheart's shop?" Eadin muttered after the three of them put a distance between themselves and the dungeon.

"Who is the person who set up our escape, thats what I wanna know." Nivek said. Eadin looked at his boss, "I guess we'll find out at Phoenixhearts shop."

Nivek stopped walking, "Say, Tiyana talked about a Phoenixheart once.. Bribble or something, but not a Sajon. Where the fuck is my prostitute?"

Royt caught up to the duo, "Ok its clear, nobody followed us." Eadin and Nivek then briefed Royt on their conversation.

"Oh...Sajon, yer, good friend of mine, runs that awesome magic and relic shop, havent seen him in a while though. I know where it is, com'n."

[Kossage]

The Nightstalkers entered the shop of Sajon Phoenixheart. As soon as they were in, they met a familiar figure. "Welcome. I see you're a man of reason, Nivek Cheavin," Thrax purred.

Royt looked around. "So, where's Sajon?"

"He won't be bothering us tonight," Thrax replied in an icy tone. "I see you're still not trusting me. My associates have already shown their influence by letting you go free, but if you want more proof, here's something: the elfess Tiyana Natiya is currently held by Lieutenant X. Not only that, but we've spotted the Mathesons moving towards the lieutenant's office."

"How do you know?" Eadin gasped.

"This is only a taste of the power we possess. You want your precious prostitute back, and you also want to settle the score with both the lieutenant and the Mathesons, right? Tonight all of that can happen, and maybe then you'll be more willing to make a deal with my associates." Thrax extended his hand. "There's still time to reach the lieutenant's office before the Matheson goons get there. So, tell me: are you in or out?"

#

"It seems the majority wish to take our 'guests' to Alent. So be it. We'll honour their decision and wish them a pleasant journey," Khalid said, not bothering to hide how pleased he was.

"We're not going anywhere until one more thing is clear," Hannibal interrupted. "One of the Totenkopfs who tried to attack me was captured. I want to talk to her."

Khalid grinned. "I expected you to say that, and I sent a guard to the prison. He'll return soon."

As if on cue, the guard appeared but he was alone. "Lord Khalid, the prisoner is dead. The wounds indicate that some spell was used, and the guards were asleep by the time I got there."

"It has to be Xerathas and the Shadow. They're still somewhere out there, and they're cowardly enough to kill a helpless prisoner!" Refan hissed.

Unithien frowned. "But... it doesn't make sense. Why would Xerathas be interested in silencing a Totenkopf? What would he gain from it?"

"You can save such ramblings for another time. The Totenkopf is dead and thus of no more use to any of us," Khalid said impatiently. "Lord Waldheim, your group is free to leave to Alent at any time. I thank you all for your services, and I hope your time in Alent will be fruitful. Unless anyone else wants to comment, I'll end this meeting here and now. There are still other pressing matters that require my attention."

#

A white-robed cleric appeared from a ruined house. "Hurry, this way! I'll take you to the Holy Father of Fragnar!" he shouted and quickly led the group to a nearby manor. Inside they found a man who introduced himself as Grand Inquisitor Anthony Torquemada, the right-hand man of Jonathan Ferron.

"I wasn't expecting to see the such a strange group of people here out of all places," Anthony said wearily. "Why have you come?"

Adram coughed. "Remonton needs the church's help. We're low on supplies and men, and these undead are getting closer. We need to unite our forces and drive them out before things escalate even more."

"You're too late. We sent our brothers and sisters to Maar Sul a week ago," Anthony replied. "There was something in the wind some time ago that made some of us die and before we knew it, our dead rose and attacked us. We've lost this city, and our only chance is to retreat north to Drithenspire. Most of the survivors have already been evacuated."

"What about my son, Gabriel?" Skye asked all of a sudden. Her voice was both cold and determined. "You still have him here, don't you?"

A smile spread on Anthony's face. "I see. You're the one who has given birth to that abomination. Worry not; he's already with the dwarves. And he's not your son anymore. He, like his wretched half-demon father, belongs to His Holiness."

Anger flashed in Skye's eyes as she moved her hand on her sword but she was stopped by Izael. "Don't," the half-elf whispered. "There'll be another time."

"So... if your guys are in Maar Sul, we need to find them quickly!" Swenson gasped. "If zombies continue attacking, Remon will fall for sure!"

"Yes... it's important to notify the Alliance as soon as possible. It'll take you too long to ride to Maar Sul but there's another way to reach our forces. My mages might be able to cast a spell which can teleport you to Maar Sul. It's a very difficult and unstable spell, though, so there's always a chance that it might teleport you somewhere else instead," Anthony muttered. "Still, it's the fastest way, so are you willing to try it despite the risks?"

[Matthew]

Koryaksky wasn't very intelligent in the organization, even among the hitmen and enforcers. The rest of his family were the strong, intelligent ones. Vesuvius the master tactician, Galeras the unbeatable assassin, and Etna the powerful witch. Kory was spoiled by his mother, their then elderly, but still kicking, father's jailbait third wife. Groomed to give commands as a lord of Maar Sul, he mostly took to the lessons of his entitlement and self-worth. Beyond swordsmanship, he ignored his fancy private tutors and partied all over the coast on a bottomless allowance.

The deaths of his parents changed this, however. Expected to carry his weight within the organization, the young man was sent on crap missions all over the world. He could fight, though. And his personality and temperament proved him a keen enough weapon for Vesuvius to wield. Little Kory looked soft, spoiled, but he was a mad dog. And many had fallen for crossing him, accompanied with a trail of destruction usually attributed to total war.

Rafe had witnessed this many times, as a second in command, but also as secret handler. In this other capacity he had repeatedly warned Vesuvius Matheson of his youngest sibling's antics, warning him that it was only a matter of time before Koryaksky not only got himself killed, but every man with him. It was this warning that had him pull out of one of his "master's" assault plans once again. Errands to the Family were a useful excuse.

So the young mobster marched alone in front of an army of armored enforcers, blades drawn. Rage and insanity colored his features, his blonde hair in sweaty tangles. He stopped in front of the Lieutenants office building and signaled for his men to stop. Then he signaled for his mages on the nearby roofs. He watched, smiling, as fire was hurled down all over the building. The flames began gorging themselves on the materials that made it up, and Kory stared into them waiting for the occupants to flee in fear. Above, archers and mages prepared for this occurrence as well.

#

Jono had a cramp by the time the prisoners were escorted back in. He wiggled his leg around a bit, almost falling of the beam he was perched on in shadow, and then massaged the cramp out while the guards left. With a thief's grace he leaped down with whisper of an impact, and then immediately ran to Hannibal's cell. He could hear the boy's gasp as he pulled out a skeleton key for the palace, acquired from an agreeable elf maiden who cleaned all the rooms, including the cells. He'd return it on the way out so as not to implicate her later. It was unfortunate how treasonous this would all look.

He felt the boy snake by him, dashing for the cells of the Vulfsatz. He reached Hannibal before the princeling could use the snatched key to free his assassin elite. He retrieved the key and then faced down at him.

"Not so fast."

"We have to free my servants!"

"I may be plenty stupid, but freeing an elite squad of enemy assassins is not something I'm willing to do."

"But you said-"

A stern voice called Hannibal. He rushed over to the cell and had a whispered conference with his people. To be polite, Jono didn't listen in as well as he could have. Random words drifted over, such as "plague" and "mother". When they were finished, Hannibal came over.

"What do you plan to do?"

"Take you out of here, zip on over to Trinity Gask, and hopefully not get violently killed in the process."

He could feel Hannibal's hesitance, but a deep voice spoke up from the Vulfsatz's cell.

"Just promise to protect Master Losstarot with your life."

Jono nodded solemnly, and then the pair left. When outside the palace with the kid, he felt around the scenery a bit and then counted some steps before turning and throwing the key into the window the maid had specified. Then he grinned at the confused Hannibal and signaled for him to come over to him. They hid in some bushes while Jono rested a bit.

"Are we going now?"

"No, I have two things to do first."

"Like what?"

"First, we need to get a papoose to carry you around in."

"What!?"

"And then I'm going to ask this girl out on a date."

Not mentioning that only one of those was a joke, Jono hefted himself up trying to think of a clear path to Vaetris' inn room.

[The Last Oath]

Nivek, Eadin and Royt walked outside the magic shop to discuss. "Well, they seem powerful enough and possess intelligence far beyond anything we've seen." Eadin said.

"Be careful with your decision Nivek, I sense dark magics streaming from the man." Royt added.

Nivek thought for a moment. "Your both right, but the sooner we dispose of the Mathesons and get Tiyana back, business can go back to normal, besides, we're not gonna find another girl like Tiyana who can run the business so well on these streets."

The three of them looked at each other. "Lets go make a new alliance brothers."

*

The Nightstalkers stepped into the building and faced Thrax once again. The Totenkopf grinned. "Well?"

Nivek grinned back. "Lets go, and if the Mathesons are on their way we could use your help. Then we'll deal all you want."

#

Lieutenant X was in the midst of subtling asking questions about Tiyana's magic when the pair heard a series of swoosh and boom noises. Looking outside his window he saw the wild face of Koryaksky Matheson staring. The two's eyes met. "Come out here lieutenant! I'll kill you fast but the fire will burn through you, slowly".

Lieutenant X turned back around to Tiyana, she knew what was happening, wrapping her arms around her stomach. "Is there a back door?" she asked.
"No, I only made one entrance and exit as to stop a surprise attack. I could use a back door now though." Tiyana was looking down when the windows shattered into a thousand pieces. Her facial expression said she was serious about protecting her child.

"Why dont you make a time bubble around them like last time? Then we can escape." Lieutenant X said.

Something snapped within Tiyana and she became her old self that was previously blanketed by drugs. "With all do respect, Lieutenant, why dont you, bring forth all that mana you've been disguising."

Lieutenant X spun his head toward the time mage. "What? How did you-"

"We are both accomplished calibar time mages, and we are drawn to each others powers. I couldn't sense you before because of White Remon, however it has been days since."

The office began collapsing more around them. Tiyana looked at the Lieutenant. "So, why are you really here?"

"You want to discuss this now!" Lieutenant X regained his cold composure and sighed. "I guess its time I show my true colours. Unlike you, I lean toward manipulating the space aspect of our discipline." Lieutenant X helped Tiyana up and headed toward the door. The office collapsed under the intense flames just after the two walked out into the street, Lieutenant X and Koryaksky facing each other.

Just then, the Nightstalkers arrived at the scene.

Koss and Matt, you guys take the next scene

[Dignified Pauper]

Nymgrock glared at Anthony. Nymgrock knew teleportation wasn't the easiest spell to manage, but he could teleport himself fine, for the most part anywhere he was familiar with. Their mages clearly had not been trained efficiently.

"Inquisitor, why have your clerics gone to Maar Sul instead of staying here in Remonton?"

"The Clerics of Cardia's Memory are needed everywhere. We are not bound only by the mountains surrounding our country. We must help all in need. Right now, there are matters in Maar Sul that required our attention. I wouldn't expect you to understand our position."

"Well your clerics are needed here. Why have you not sent out a party to retrieve them when this situation occurred?"

"The matters in Maar Sul required immediate attention. For all we knew, the rest of Remon was lost. We needed to save ourselves, and so we looked to the dwarves for assistance. We couldn't spare the clerics here."

"What is so important in Maar Sul."

"You wouldn't understand the motivations of the church." This comment annoyed Nymgrock. "As far as I'm concerned, Nymgrock, and yes, who doesn't know who you are now, the majority of this situation rests on your shoulders. You helped split this nation into two."

"Nym would never intentionally turn the inhabitants of Remon into flesh-eating zombies!" Swenson said in his defense. "Further, it was Arbriel Conrad that led catapults to fire down on the soldiers as they fought! I was there! I saw everything!"

"Perhaps, had the church taken a stance with the Stewards, and had there not been a coup from the Proninists, this wouldn't have happened. If you want someone to blame, blame your King who has yet to return, and blame your god who died. I will not be blamed by some clergyman who hasn't even been in the politics of his country. Especially since one of your own released this poison into the lands!"

"It is not for the church to be involved with the politics of this country! It is for the church to provide counsel and guidance to the lost sheep of this world. I will not stand here and allow your heresy of Cardia to go on like this."

"Regardless, we have a problem in Remonton at the moment and we must work together in order to help everyone in this nation." Izael chimed in. "Shyralis and I will go and teleport to the mages. Nymgrock knows teleportation, and he can help your mages teleport us to Maar Sul. With their help, Nymgrock's power shouldn't be weakened much."

"I won't be leaving this city without my son." Skye said. "I will stay here and help out, and find my son in Drithenspire once we arrive."

"Nymgrock, can you stay and help out until we arrive back in Fragnar?" Izael asked.

"I can keep the zombies away from us for some time."

"Then it's settled." Izael said. There was an uneasiness about the group though.

*********************

The dark haired man roamed the streets of Sanae and soon, he came across a gathering of elven guards. They looked at him, considering him just another refugee, but he approached them.

"Excuse me, my name is Prescott A. Banks. I seemed to have forgotten everything but my name. I think I was carried here from Remonton after the battle. I was speaking with a few other survivors and had heard everything about the plague that has risen up. I am lucky to be here."

The elves looked at him curiously.

"Yes, you are. Our magical barrier will protect our cities for hundreds of years if necessary."

"Yes. Well, I must speak with your leaders. I believe I have information that might be useful to the king."

"Didn't you just say you don't remember anything?"

"I need to speak with your leaders!" Prescott said, interrupting their thoughts. "I believe I have caused all of this to happen. After speaking with other humans since arriving, they recognized me and called me Dylas. I believe I may be Dylas Rin Theron, but I have no recollection of this. Everyone just keeps saying it to me. When I woke up, I felt like my name was Prescott."

The guards were shocked, and so they nodded and decided that the leaders should be notified.

[Kossage]

Swenson felt uneasy as minutes went by. He could hear the moans of the hungry undead echoing in the distance. He sighed with relief when he finally saw Izael's group returning with the mages.

"Time's racing against us so let's get this over with," Izael muttered while the church's mages gathered around him and prepared to cast the teleportation spell. "Nymgrock, are you ready?"

Just then Swenson could have sworn to have heard some moans nearby. For a moment he wondered if the undead would be clever enough to set a trap but he dismissed it quickly. Surely they were just mindless zombies, right? And surely they could not have crept into this house without anyone noticing it? He kept his sword close and glanced at Nymgrock and Shyralis. Everything should be fine as long as he stayed close to the mages, but he nevertheless hoped that his companions would hurry up.

#

"Totenkopfs?" Tiyana gasped when she noticed a black-cloaked figure with the Nightstalkers. She still remembered what the Totenkopfs had done to her in the Ruined Kingdom. "Nivek, don't tell me--"

Thrax tilted his head. "You should've known that we'd catch up with you eventually, Tiyana Natiya. Don't forget that you have something that belongs to us."

Koryaksky rolled his eyes. "Oh, please! A bunch of sewer rats and a death freak think they can beat me and my boys and steal our prey? Well, think again! You're heavily outnumbered!"

The Totenkopf raised his hand in the air, and suddenly a group of SAVAGE-ED led by Captain Bush appeared from the shadows. The Nightstalkers reached for their weapons but soon realized that <i>these</i> were the reinforcements Thrax had been talking about. "Don't underestimate our friends in high places. Your family was quite useful for a while, Matheson, but your usefulness has come to an end," Thrax stated calmly. "Do as you wish with the lieutenant, but the girl is mine. Hand her over and you might live to see another day. My friends in SAVAGE are itching for a rematch so you'd better decide quickly before they act."

#

As soon as news spread about the disappearance of Hannibal Losstarot, Khalid sent his guards to find any trace of the boy. However, he did not want to waste any time and ordered the three Vulfsatz and the comatose Varalia to be taken to Alent as prisoners. Waldheim and a few others were already at the gates, ready to begin their long journey north to the mysterious city of mages.

Khalid shook hands with Waldheim and turned to Refan. "Aren't you going? I thought you had business to attend to in Alent."

The thief sighed. "There are a few things in this city that still require my attention. Xerathas and the Shadow are somewhere out there, and they must be stopped," he muttered.

However, Refan did not mention that there were other reasons for his reluctance to leave Vanna: he was worried about how Ronove had become more gibberish since the disappearance of Nesa, he was too scared to meet his father Omaroch in Alent, and he still needed time to think about Ax's relationships with Marcus and Khalid and whether any of that made sense at all. He needed to sort out his feelings before he could carry on. Or maybe he was running away from his problems again...

He noticed how sad Unithien looked and he understood why. Her mother, Varalia, would be taken to Alent as some sort of a twisted trophy. Although Khalid and Waldheim had assured Unithien that the mages in Alent would be able to revive Varalia, it was all too clear that Varalia's high rank in the Grey Cult would be used as a bargaining chip in the eventual negotiations with the Council of Mages. But despite all this he just could not find any words to comfort Unithien who would also remain in Vanna.

Refan left the scene and headed back to the inn, not bothering to stay and wait for the group's departure. He was worried, though, because something was not right. He did not know what it was, but his demon side <i>felt</i> something strange, as if it was a familiar feeling. Although he despised that darkness within, he had learned to trust it in these matters, and he wondered what his other side was trying to tell him.

[Nic]

"So let me get this straight. You've kidnapped Hannibal, you're planning to rush him back to his enraged banshee of a mother, and you...want me to <I>go with you</I>?" Vaetris snapped, hands on her hips.

Jono gave her a sheepish grin. "Indeed, my lady. What say you? Surely you could use a romantic getaway in the beautiful...barren...Libaterran countryside?"

Vaetris sighed. Her gaze shifted from the blind man in front of her, to the hopeful face of Hannibal, then back to Jono again. "Fine. But only for his sake!"

-----------------------------------

Shyralis sighed impatiently. "Get on with it already. The sooner we get to Maar Sul...the sooner everything can be made right."

Izael seemed puzzled by her choice of words, but nodded. "Yes, let us continue."

Within seconds, everything had been prepared. The mages stood in a circle around the travelers, Nymgrock looking bored by all the formalities. Shyralis too, looked bored...though there was a strange coldness in her eyes as she steeled herself for the teleportation.

In a blinding flash of light, they were gone. Shyralis blinked to clear her vision, letting out a small gasp as she recognized the sights in front of her.

She shook her head wearily. "Oh, those idiots..."

Izael, unfamiliar with Maar Sul, looked at her questioningly. "What is it, my lady?"

Shyralis rolled her eyes. "It might be a bit of a trip if we hope to reach the Alliance. Our esteemed colleagues have landed us in Jardine."

-----------------------------------

Ax gave the tearful Rhylian one last hug, forcing a smile as the young elf snatched up her pack. Kaisa too managed a smile, her hands still wrapped around the elf's thin waist. It seemed such a solemn farewell for such a short trip, and yet...

And yet, Kaisa couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. So she clung to her friend a bit longer, taking in the smell and feel of her, hoping that memory would be enough...just in case.

"Okay. It's time we left," Rhylian whispered, gently unclasping Kaisa's hands from her back. "Don't worry so much! We'll be back in a few days, I promise."

Kaisa smiled sadly, looking much older than her thirteen years. "Don't make promises you might not keep, Rhyl. Please."

Rhylian's mouth opened in surprise, but she recovered quickly. "What am I going to do with you, young lady?" she asked, feigning exasperation. "How about this? I promise to <I>try</I> to come back in a few days."

Kaisa nodded in satisfaction. "That's better."

Rhylian smiled and kissed the girl's head, then stepped back. She turned to Waldheim and nodded, and they were off.

[Dignified Pauper]

Nymgrock looked at the other mages. He could tell something was wrong.

"What just happened?" He demanded. The other mages looked around at him and shrugged their shoulders.

"They did not land in Maar Sul. So much for getting help back to Remonton."

"Does that mean everyone will die?" Swenson asked.

"Who knows." Nymgrock replied. "We must get out of here."

"No one leaves this city until they arrive back!" Commanded Anthony.

************

Lachesis stood before The Loom, working fervently on their newest Tapestry. For the past decade, this organization, known amongst themselves simply as The Weavers, had been creating tapestries and embedding them with the stories of history. Their current project was something more recent, the cataclysm from just over a decade ago - The Death of Cardia.

Over the years, The Weavers had adorned the Hall of The Loom with many tapestries depicting the histories of the lands that they learned through reading over time. There were also four special tapestries that were weaved for The Elders of The Weavers. Lachesis was one of these elders, and they had nearly completed this last tapestry.

As he worked, Atropos - High Elder - and Clothos - another of the four - walked in.

"Ah, Lachesis. Hard at work as ever." Clothos said. Lachesis turned to them.

"Atropos, Clothos, this tapestry is nearing completion."

"Good." Atropos stated. "We just received request for an order from the far reaches of Trinity Gask. A clothing supplier requests 3000 uniform sets. We'll need your help upstairs in the factory monitoring the workers and supervising. It's a big order."

"Certainly. We have only a few more days before we finish. What is the reason for such a large request?"

"It seems that it is was provisioned for the ruling party of the city. Their reasoning is that they need new uniforms for their guards, as their current ones are being tattered." Clothos replied. "They are paying top-price to have the shipment by the end of the month."

"The end of the month?" Lachesis questioned. "That's a rather rushed order."

"And Quality must be met. Our weaving company is a first class service. We cannot let any of our customers down. The order is large, but the price was right." replied Clothos. "Besides, orders have been down recently and we haven't received communication from Remon in weeks. Apparently, no one has any information, but it's across the board. So all of our orders for Remon were suspended indefinitely."

"Cygna is currently on duty right now with starting the order's operation. We've done a complete overhaul, not to mention that our stores here in Myridia haven't been selling as much. News has spread around the globe of recent outbreaks and violent skirmishes." Atropos continued. "Our economy is in a steady fall, and we're trying not to lose our profits."

"Understood. Well, this tapestry will be finished. Once done, I will join the three of you in processing the order. I only wonder what the real purpose is for the order. At a time when, globally, people just aren't buying as much, and with the skirmishes. Perhaps they know something more. It might be a good opportunity to find out more information."

"We are already working on a way to gather more information. It could be a valuable way to promote ourselves. The world is ripe for the picking, we just need to find our niche." Atropos stated. And with that, he nodded to Lachesis who returned to his work on The Loom. Clothos and he headed back upstairs.

[Matthew]

Fel was stirred from sleep by the Scundan twins, Heck and Hela. A deep voice informed him that they were nearing the shore. In his grogginess, Fel couldn't tell if the voice was that of the male or female twin, but when his vision cleared he was struck by a sobering thought.

"What do you mean, we're here? We've only been out a few days."

Hela leaned in and repeated her brother's message in a similar voice, "We're nearing the shore."

Then they were gone. Infuriated, Fel dressed quickly and stomped onto the deck seeking the Captain to file a complaint over his hired muscle. When he reached the man's side, though, Remon's familiar shores came into view. Ravensworth, a place whose seedy backstreets and underbelly Fel was intimately familiar with.

"How the hell...?" And he looked at the captain for the first time without underestimating him, and the man smiled. What secrets were The Law and its crew hiding?

The moment was short, though, as Aza swung from the crow's nest crying an alarm.

"Captain Murphy, smoke! Something is happening in the city!"

"A battle?" Fel asked, leaning over the edge of the ship to look closer. That's when he felt cold, wet, bony hands close around his throat... and stared down in horror into the eyes of a dead man.

[Nic]

Ax went and ate a sammich.

[Matthew]

Koryaksky stabbed the girl.

It's possible he wasn't in his right mind at the time, the pressure of the situation bludgeoning his brain down into nothing but a fine blood mist. It's also possible that he saw that no matter how one looked at it, this situation would mean his death. Either from his immediate enemies or his angry family. So he lashed out at the closest thing in protest.

Pushing the slumping form down to the ground, sounds of battle erupted around him immediately. His eyes found the Lieutenant's, a strange look on his enemy's face. Then Koryaksky Matheson was no longer home. Only rage and violence remained in his shell as it ran to meet the man called X.

[The Last Oath]

The goods were damaged, Lieutenant X didnt plan for this. Too late, the Matheson boy advanced, Lieutenant X pulling his standard issue sword and parrying his attacks.

Meanwhile, Nivek Cheavin, Royt and Eadin battled it out with the remaining Koryaksky loyalists. The battle was in their favour as Thrax's contacts in SAVAGE turned the tables.

There was a lull between Koryaksky and Lieutenant X. "Your real targets are those sewer scum! Their leader fool! Get HIM!" X shouted. "Shutup! You manipulated and set this whole thing up! What the hell kind of ED are you!" Koryaksky yelled and charged again.

Kory slammed his foot into Lieutenant X's chest, forcing him to the ground. "Heh, your right Matheson." X said as he stood up. "Im not SAVAGE ED or a police officer." The Lieutenant smiled, "This disguise spell has been wearing off anyway." The man looked as though his mind let go of something, his skin looked as if it came off and then there was a different man standing infront off Koryaksky. He had straight long brown hair, dark eyes, his skin was pale and he had pointy ears. Kory's face became enraged, "THE HELL!?"

Nivek, Thrax and the others stopped fighting, staring at the mysterious figure. Tiyana fought to get up, her one hand over Kory's stab wound. The new man grinned and suddenly, a sharp, strong wind engulfed the area. "You think you can get us out now, Natiya? Gusts dont last forever." he asked the bleeding elfess. "Yes, but not very far." She replied, crouching over in pain. White light surronded the two and they teleported away.

[Kossage]

Refan grimaced. The headaches had become worse in the past few days. He sat on the roof of the inn, a place he had become more used to lately. He did not know how much time has passed since Waldheim's group had left, but it did not matter. The politics that nearly choked the streets of Vanna, the quiet power struggle between Khalid and those who would rather see someone else on the throne of Qalat al-Jabal, Ax... all of it was frustrating, especially the last bit, and he was glad to have some space to think about it.

He knew he had not behaved well in front of Ax, and yet he could not understand what went through her mind. Was she just playing with his emotions by flirting with Khalid and Marcus or was it a means for her to run away again? He smiled bitterly. He should not worry about it too much. After all, Ax had once said that she needed time and perhaps it would be better to let her do things her own way.

Or perhaps it would be better to let that darkness within consume him and release him from these frustrating restraints? It had been his demonic side which has finally made him show Ax how much he cared for her, and yet it had almost had a terrible price. Although he felt free when he let his demonic side take over, it also scared him. He could not control that power and all those emotions... no, he would have to restrain himself and continue his life as before. He owed everyone that much.

And yet his reluctance to use his full powers had led to Nalaen's demise. He gritted his teeth. If only he had had the resolve to fight evil with evil, she might still be alive and...

"BURP!"

Refan nearly fell of the roof when he turned to the direction the burp had come from and saw Ronove munching on the leg of a sand gnome next to him. He sometimes wondered how Ronove managed to sneak around so that he could not sense him. After all, he had demonic instincts so he should be able to sense an ordinary guy like Ronove from a mile away.

"Want some?" the scarred man asked, his mouth full. "Eating always helps when one's sad."

It seemed that Ronove was slowly getting over Nesa's disappearance. The two had apparently been closer than Refan had assumed, and as much as Ronove annoyed Refan, he wanted Ronove to stop being so brooding. At times the thief actually felt like he had looked into a mirror when he saw Ronove. It was especially apparent whenever Ronove was not acting weirdly, and for some reason it made Refan feel uneasy.

"No thanks," Refan muttered. "I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you'd be chasing after the clerics of Artemicia."

Ronove sighed. "You kinda lose the motivation when you get the 100th punch in the face. That game's not fun anymore. But at least I'll get big strawberries soon, so I'll be ok!"

The thief blinked. "What the hell are you babbling about? There are no strawberries in the desert and what do they have to do with chasing--"

Ronove suddenly grabbed Refan's head and made him look to the horizon. "I'm no liar, No-More-Beardy! See all that redness for yourself!"

Refan shook the scarred man off. Maybe he had been wrong about Ronove, maybe Ronove had not recovered but had gone insane from the heat. Then again, Ronove did often change the subject in the most awkward manner, so it should not be a surprise...

Suddenly his eyes grew wide. It had been hardly noticeable at first but now he saw strange glimmer far ahead which soon revealed countless figures in shining armor standing on dunes. Crimson banners and flags rose defiantly in the air and seemed to stretch from horizon to horizon while a strange rumbling sound, almost like thunder, filled the air.

Refan felt strange tingling in his body as the darkness within him stirred. He nearly threw up when he realized that he had been wrong all along about Leon's prophecy while its ominous words rang in his head as if to mock him:

<i>The Red One's hand will stir, and the land impure will make its ambition known like thunder!</i>

#

Khalid glared at a guard who burst into the throne room of Qalat al-Jabal. "Haven't I told you not to come until I order you to do so?"

The guard bowed. "My apologies, Your Majesty, but your presence is required at the walls. Something has happened."

"Why would those oafs of the Black Guard want <i>me</i> there? Can't they do anything by themselves?" Khalid growled. "I'm in the middle of a meeting here, and you come in babbling some cryptic nonsense!"

"I understand that your issues with Ax and providing an heir are important, but we can postpone that. Right now you need to consolidate your rule. If the Black Guards decide to rebel, you'll have a new conflict in your hands," Ismail said. "I can't do this by myself. I may be the captain now, but some guards might still be loyal to Razoul. You, on the other hand, are Sultan, and the guards respect your authority in these matters. Come with me."

The storm in the Sultan's eyes calmed. "Fine, but this had better be worth my while!" he hissed, and he and Ismail followed the guard out of the palace.

[The Last Oath]

Briss washed himself, got changed into some clean clothes and hung up his dirty ones. Then he ate a big dinner and had a nap.

[Nic]

It seemed they had been trudging across the desert for weeks. Months, even...though Rhylian knew in reality, it had only been five days or so. She wiped her brow and squinted, her gaze wandering across the horizon. There, finally a change in the unbroken flatness of the sand! Rising up majestically, the city of Alent was coming into view. With any luck, they'd be at the gates by the next evening.

Beside her, Waldheim heaved a sigh of relief. "It seems we're almost there, my lady. I hope this doesn't prove to be yet another dead end."

Rhylian gave a somber nod. "I don't think I can handle anymore dead ends. This will..."

She trailed off, her sharp eyes fixed on a figure in the distance. With a gasp, she jumped off her camel and half-ran, half-stumbled through the sand, her focus never leaving that flash of black hair she'd seen ahead. Her companions cried out in confusion, but she ignored them.

"Nesa!" she cried, running to embrace the man. He turned and smiled, arms open. But as she came closer...he faded away.

"Nesa..." she said softly, feeling the tears begin to well up again. Had it just been her imagination?

<B>"Not quite,"</B> a bemused voice drawled. A shining figure appeared where Nesa had just stood, arms crossed. <B>"Oh, stop your blubbering. What <I>does</I> he see in you? That boyish face, that ridiculous haircut, no makeup...and your <I>nails</I>, just what is that gunk under them?"</B>

Rhylian felt heavy, as if her legs--no, her entire <I>body</I>--were made of lead. Suddenly she realized that everything was still...too still. Even the slight breeze whispering through the sands was gone. She tried to reach for her bow, but found herself unable to lift her arms. She narrowed her eyes. "Who are you? What do you want from me?"

<B>"Oh, not this again."</B> the shining figure sighed, bored. <B>"Hivena. Goddess of love, fertility, STDs, all that lovely stuff. I'd hoped you could give me some inspiration. Breaking your little paladin has proven to be more of an ordeal than I bargained for--"</B>

Rhylian jerked. "Nesa's alive? What the hell have you done with him!"

Hivena smiled sweetly. <B>"He came with me willingly, my dear. I'm afraid he just didn't love you as much as you thought he did."</B>

"Nesa would never do that!" Rhylian spat. "Bring him back!"

The goddess gave a low chuckle. <B>"He's mine now, to do with as I wish. He'll serve his purpose. And you've just served yours,"</B> she said, her beautiful face contorting in a wicked smile. She snapped her fingers, and for a moment, Rhylian thought she was looking in a mirror; the goddess had morphed into a perfect copy of the elfess, down to the grime under her fingernails. She laughed quietly, her mannerisms identical to the real Rhylian's, and blew a kiss before vanishing as suddenly as she'd appeared.

Rhylian felt dizzy. Suddenly able to move again, she reached for her bow...and then the sand was rushing up to meet her.

-----------------------------------

Ax burped loudly as she finished off the last of her sammich. She plunked some gold down on the table and stood up to leave, then paused as the commotion outside suddenly grew louder...almost panicked.

She narrowed her eyes, hand instinctively going for her sword as she stepped outside. She saw several guards rushing past, and then Khalid himself heading for the city walls, a bored look on his chiseled face. She hurried to catch up with him, hoping he could shed some light on what was going on. Ignoring his glare, she took her place at his side. "What the hell's going on?"

It was Marcus, panting and sweaty as he climbed down from the wall, who answered. "Demons! Hundreds, thousands of them...we must do something!"

Ax and Khalid exchanged a glance, and then both were rushing to the top of the wall to see for themselves. Ax gasped when she reached the top. A sea of red undulated before her, growing closer to the city with each passing second. Khalid, for once, seemed at a loss. His mouth hung open for a moment before it snapped shut, and he grimaced.

Ax raised an eyebrow. "Well? What are we going to do, Your Majesty?"

[Aerith's knight]

Darkness.. always darkness.

Nesa coughed up some blood, but it didn't alarm him. He had been through so many... scenario's. They always ended violently. And then darkness, while she thought up something else. The more he succumbed, the more she got into his mind, the harder it became to resist. What did she want anyway? The last time had been the worst yet.

"Hi brother.", a face so familiar, a face he loved more than anything but one, a face he hadn't seen.. so long.

"..Rina? How? Why?"

"Does it matter, brother? I'm here now."

"But.. you died. I was there, I couldn't save you."

"I'm here, why won't you hug me?", she said, in a voice filled with both sadness, vulnerability and yet somewhere off a definite power.

"I just don't understand.", Nesa said with a hung head as things began to blur around him.

"Why won't you hug me, why won't you save me? You don't love me! You didn't save me!", Rina's sweet face turned into malace and impatience and she started clawing at Nesa with strength far beyond her power. Nesa just fell to his knees and took the blows. It was an illusion.. again


How many more would he have to take? How many more could he take at all? The worst was still the darkness, the silence but for his own coughing and wheezing. He was free of the illness, but he felt worse than ever. After what seemed an eternity, something happened he didn't expect.

"I can't believe this. You should feel honored, but nooooo, you have to resist. Now my time is up. The two dimwits have stopped fighting and I have to get rid of you, one way or the other.", a tired and almost insane sounding voice sounded around the white light that suddenly glared at his senses. He was back in the celestial plane.

"Why am I back here? Are you done with your torture?"

"Torture? Such a crude word.", Hivena said while looking at her nails nonchalantly, but the impatience was clear, "But I suppose you could say that. However, your extreme stubbornness made it useless. I'm bored with you, I'm not even going to take the trouble to kill you without them knowing, just.. get out!", she finished with a rage in her eyes and a flick of her wrist.

Things swirled around him, first white, then blue, then yellow. Dizzy he wasn't, but fine isn't what he was feeling either. The vision however, was never better.

"Rhylian!", Nesa screamed at the figure crawling through the sand. She was dirty, covered in sand and her clothes were a mess, yet she never looked prettier.

"Nesa? Is that you? She said you were gone, and then.. and then..", Rhylian wept as she literally fell into his arms. It wasn't perfect, but that was comforting. Holding the women he loved in his arms, he squeezed, just to make sure it's real.

"Where did you go? Why did you leave?", Rhylian cried and Nesa answered as well as he could. He told her everything and near the end the sun went down already. A cold night was ahead, so the two elves snuggled up to each other.

"Never leave me again."

"I won't."

The moment was there and the loneliness, the deprivement and the misery finally got to Nesa. They made their own heat that night, and near the end, Nesa looked into the eyes of the one he loved, only to see them shift.

"No..", he said in defeat, it couldn't be that, not like that, it couldn't.. right?

The face twisted back, the legs locked, and a wicked smile appeared inches from his face.

"There, that wasn't that hard, was it? I should've done this so much sooner. Much more pleasurable as well. Now let's go, my love, we have much to do and so little time before they stop trying to beat out their sexual tension on each other.", Hivena said with a smile that showed she won, finally.

"No! Never!... never."

"Yes, of course.. my l-love.", Nesa finally said, the light disappearing from his eyes as he stood up.

"That's a good puppet.", She said with a flick of the wrist as the surroundings flashed and disappeared.

[Matthew]

The group's spirits were lifted as the desert retreated further behind them. After a series of misadventures involving the boy getting lost or attracting the attentions of the local wildlife, Jono was forced to take some preventative measures. So now Hannibal was grudgingly led around by the blind swordsman on a rope tied to his wrist. Vaetris watched this from her guarding position in the rear, still perplexed over Jono's insistence to take the lead. From his ramblings there was no indicator that he had ever been to Trinity Gask, or even this part of Libaterra. But lo and behold, they had escaped the desert with only a few incidents. Hannibal had at one point asked why Jono spent so long in Yamato if he was originally from Remon.

"Now, I think I was 25 when this whole Cataclysm nonsense occurred. Having finally fully recovered from the Second Battle of Myridia, I couldn't remain content with battling small town bullies and bandits for money. And the shame of my defeat weighted heavily on my mind. So deep was my depression, I was too distracted to pleasure the legions of maidens surrendering themselves at my feet in gratitude daily." He swiveled his head around for a second, swearing he heard a noise from Vaetris. An impressed sigh? No, sadly, it sounded more like a snort and an eyeroll. He continued.

"So I rededicated myself to swordsmanship, seeking my Yamatoan master to help improve my skills for a rematch for with Kareth."

"Isn't Kareth d'Zarnagon part of the Godslayer now?" said Hannibal, scratching the leash around his wrist.

"I suppose."

"Then your plan was to train, and then challenge the Godslayer to a duel?"

"... Well, when you put it like that... Anyway, none of that matters, because then Fate dealt a deeper blow. Just as I found myself in Yamato, I lost the special ability that had given me an advantage in spite of my lost sight. I once had senses so perfect that nothing could surprise me, a connection to the world around me so deep that nothing could overwhelm me. And just like that it was all gone. For the first time in my life, I was truly a blind man. Trapped in a country overrun with demons."

A sober moment was interrupted by Jono's sniffing.

"Fresh water far off in that direction. Definitely the river we're going to have to cross on our way to Trinity Gask. Let's move along, Little Doggies!"

And just like that he was yanking Hannibal along in a jog. Vaetris stood there for a moment in silence before following in kind.

#

Beauteous Alent, beacon of light for the civilized world, stood glaring down at the dirty continent surrounding it. At its gates stood a tall and imposing elf, dirty blonde peach fuzz covering his head. Now an honored guard of the Mageocracy, Lucky wasn't very impressed with anything to do with the city. Just another corrupt metropolitan ruled by bloated politicians. Completely ripe for The Three to do what they do best.

Here in this guard kiosk, its usual inhabitants banished outside into the abusive sun and baking underneath their purple armor, he waited with others of the elite guard to greet and escort a party of Alliance members who were to arrive soon. Forewarned magically, the Council wanted to be sure they were brought to them immediately. Lucky knew these were people to watch for the Crimson Coalition. More opportunities for sabotage and subterfuge. Dusty was going to be pleased.

Eventually, a peon interrupted his thought process to announce that something that might be the group was spotted from a guard tower. Lucky made a mental note to hate this man, and another one that he'd better be out there to meet the newcomers.

[Kossage]

Khalid could almost hear Azriel's mocking tone in his mind about the prophecized curse that would befall the sultanate should a man ever sit on the throne of Vanna. Surely these crimson foes had only arrived by coincidence and their arrival had nothing to do with this so-called curse and Khalid sitting on the throne despite warnings from elders and clerics?

Hearing Ax's voice made Khalid remember that he still had unfinished business with her. The sultanate needed an heir, and Ax would do her duty as a wife to give birth to a child and thus ensure that the House of Saif would continue as the lords of the Sarquil tribes. He would not take no for an answer.

The Sultan grimaced when he noticed a small group leaving the army and approaching the city. "Looks like we'll have to wait; our guests have chosen to make the first move," he muttered to Ax.

"Go to the dungeon and bring Razoul here at once!" Ismail ordered abruptly, and two guards left. He noticed Khalid's fierce look and sighed. "I know how you feel about him, but even though he worked for Adela and wanted to kill us, he's still my son. More importantly he's had experience fighting against demons while you and I were in exile. We'll need his counsel."

The conversation was interrupted by a booming voice coming from the group that had finally reached the gates. The group consisted of a coal-black demon, a mage in black robes, a drunk-looking Yamatian with evil moustache, a knight with a bored look in his eyes, a hooded figure and a tattooed man whose mount was a snarling abomination straight out of hell.

It turned out that the voice had come from the fanged mouth of the coal-black demon. "I, Vassago, bring tidings to the rulers of Vanna from my master, His Lordship Leraje, head of Clan Thanadar, Hoch des Rot, Dreadlord of the Northern Horde, the mightiest champion of His Grace Malphas d'Xuvadon! His Lordship has chosen your home as his new stronghold and demands your total surrender!"

"Your kin are more foolish than I thought. I assumed that beating back your patrols in all these years had taught you a lesson!" Khalid spat. "I don't care who you are or where you came from. I order you to get your asses out of my land at once unless you want to get a good whooping!"

Vassago was about to reply when the tattooed man silenced him with a wave of his hand. "You're Khalid al-Saif, the current lord of Vanna, I presume? It seems this introduction left things quite cold, so how about we <i>heat</i> things up a bit? Iwasaki!"

The drunk Yamatian, Iwasaki, pulled the hood of the nearby man down, and Khalid gasped when he recognized the bruised face. "Sheikh Miraj?! But--!"

"That's more like it! But why stop there when the fun's just begun?" The tattooed man turned to the mage. "Distreyd, show the lord of this land the extent of our hospitality!"

Distreyd muttered something, and suddenly a huge image appeared on the horizon. It showed hundreds, maybe even thousands, of dirty and starving Sarquil prisoners of all ages huddling together while they were being surrounded by jeering demons and the demons' dwarven, elven and human allies.

The tattooed man's smile turned into a wicked grin. "Your eyes don't deceive you. In front of the army is the entire populace of the town of Kilm... or what was left of it after the Horde had slaughtered and eaten those who tried to resist," he chuckled. "Let me tell you what happens if you resist: we'll execute every single prisoner, starting from your friend the Sheikh, and my servant's magic will make sure that you'll be forced to watch every gruesome detail whether your eyes are closed or not. Then we'll breach your walls and kill and rape and eat the people of this fine city, and the few survivors of that onslaught will become our new slaves and <i>livestock</i> for our campaign in Northern Libaterra."

The Sultan clenched his fists. "And what if we... accept the terms? Will the people of Kilm and Vanna be spared?"

The tattooed man shrugged. "Approximately half of your citizens will be slaughtered for our amusement and food; the soldiers of the Horde have spent weeks marching through this damn desert and they deserve to have some fun. We'll take you into consideration, though, so you can continue to live as the leader of your people but under <i>my</i> terms, of course."

"Don't listen to him, Khalid!" Miraj yelled all of a sudden. "It makes me so happy to see that you've succeeded in your mission! Your duty is not just to the House of Saif, though, but also to the sultanate as a whole and to Vanna which Tronin himself built. Protect our people's legacy and its future and remember the oath of the Black Guard: do the impossible, break the unbreakable, and never surrender! Fight the power!"

"Shut the fuck up! How dare you interrupt me, Duke Malphas's greatest champion!" the tattooed man roared and punched Miraj who fell down from the impact. The man turned to the Sultan. "So... do we have a deal? I'm getting tired of waiting."

Khalid narrowed his eyes. "I see. So you're that so-called Dreadlord. Well, here's a straight answer from yours truly," he said almost absent-mindedly and suddenly grabbed a spear from a nearby guard and threw it at the tattooed man.

The spear stopped only an inch from the face of the tattooed man whose eyes were now glowing eerily. "Pathetic. A lesser being like you can never harm a Dreadlord like myself. Now... let me return the favour," the tattooed man, Leraje, growled and thrust the spear through Miraj's stomach. "You've made your decision, boy, and now you'll have to reap what you sow!" He turned to Distreyd. "Tell my men that they can slaughter the prisoners and--"

"What a coward!" a deep voice interrupted harshly, and Ismail spat down below. "Your servants brag about you, giving you all those fancy titles, but all your kind can do is attack defenseless people! You're no real warrior!"

Leraje bared his teeth. "And who the fuck are you?"

"I'm Ismail the Strong, captain of the Black Guard of Vanna, and I say you're too afraid to fight against a <i>real</i> armed warrior! I say I can beat you. I'm the most powerful man in the Black Guard, and I've never lost a battle in my life," Ismail said. "We call ourselves champions. How about you show us what you're made of in a duel against me? If you win, you can attack this city without being called a coward. If I win, however, your army must retreat, release the prisoners and never come back to this desert ever again!"

Eerie silence descended on the desert but it was broken a moment later by sinister laughter. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! However, it amuses me so much that I'll accept your pathetic challenge and spare the prisoners' lives until our duel is over! I'll crush you in front of your men and show you the true meaning of fear. You'll have one hour to prepare yourself!" Leraje laughed and he and his posse returned back to the army, leaving Miraj behind.

Ismail looked at the people around himself and sighed. "Don't just stand there! Get Sheikh Miraj inside and see if anything can be done to save him. Inform his nephew Azriel as well in case he's not here already. And when the guards return, send Razoul to me. I need to talk to him," he barked orders and turned to Khalid and Ax. "My Sultan and Sultana, I suggest you get yourselves and your companions ready in case our enemies are thinking of tricking us. There's not much time left before the Dreadlord returns." After saying that he walked away, ignoring Khalid's angry and confused remarks.

[Kossage]

Zenobia frowned. The journey to Trinity Gask had taken longer than expected. They had avoided Alentian patrols which had appeared on the countryside every once in a while. Alent's presence was growing as the group had approached the river, and the reason soon became clear as they watched from the top of a nearby hill how a large army was on one side of the river and another army was on the other side.

"We have a problem. Alent has a heavy presence on this side of the river, and if they find out that you're here, Adela, they'll capture us. After all, you sided with the Coalition, and Alent will not tolerate the allies of its enemies," Zenobia muttered. "If we reach the other side of the river, we'll be safe because General Lain won't let any Alentian dogs of war to enter the Coalition's territory."

Adela narrowed her fair eyes. "You'll address me as <i>Lady</i> Adela. Don't take me lightly," she said.

Briss sighed. "You seem to put a lot of faith on this so-called general of yours."

"Leopold Lain is often referred to as the Fist of Losstarot and for a good reason. He's a formidable strategist who will crush Alent if given enough time. You'll see when we meet him. He'll certainly provide us with a carriage that can take us to Trinity Gask quickly."

Briss recalled Reynard's words about long, monotonous carriage rides but decided not to mention it. "Well, the ford over there is certainly well-guarded, and it seems to be the only ford in the area."

Adela nodded. "It seems we'll to wait until dark before we can get across. Perhaps we can silence a few Alentian soldiers and use their uniforms to fool any others we come across until we've crossed the ford. Or could there be another way to get across without getting caught by those Alentian fools?"

#

Adram frowned as he and his companions looked around the busy streets of Jardine. He saw faces that did not look content. People did their best to hide it, of course, but Adram had learned to read people's faces over the years and he knew that something was wrong. But what could it possibly be? The Alliance had driven Proninists out of this fine city some time ago and as far as he knew Amarawyn Jardine had been described as a fine young woman who would make the city blossom again. So why did he feel uneasy... as if some shadow was still looming over Jardine?

He shook his head; it was no use thinking about it now. "I guess we'll have to get some supplies if we wish to continue our journey to Maar Sul City but I'm not familiar with Jardine, so..."

His voice trailed off when he noticed a merchant selling roses nearby. What caught Adram's attention was the flash of silver in the merchant's bracelet, and he recalled what Ax had told him about it.

"What is it?" Izael asked as he glanced between Adram and the merchant.

Adram leaned closer to Shyralis and Izael. "Looks like we aren't on our own after all. Unless I'm mistaken, the Blades of Vigilance are ever vigilant even in this city. Perhaps we should talk to that merchant over there and find out what's happened here recently?"

#

"It's no use! They're here!" a mage yelled as he and other mages did their best to barricade the door leading to the room. "There are reports of dozens of undead out there, and they're advancing all the time!"

Anthony glared at Nymgrock. "That's how it is! Things were relatively quiet in here until you showed up. The zombies must be reacting to your powerful magic and are drawn to you! We've seen it happen before when they attacked some of our most powerful mages."

Swenson gulped and whispered to Nymgrock's ear: "I don't like this. Zombies are all over the place, these cleric guys are getting paranoid and hostile, and Shyralis and the others are lost somewhere in Maar Sul! What're we going to do?"

[Matthew]

Koryaksky gasped, his wounds bleeding onto the cobbled streets of Maar Sul City. The teleport out had sent all sides into a frenzy. Allegiances were forgotten as the cultists fled in a rage, presumably to search for the elves. All that was left afterwards were cops and robbers, descending on one another like rabid animals.

X's, or whoever he was, departure had a sobering quality over the young Matheson, and staring at the three way battle he felt the enormity of his fuck-up for the first time. And he ran. Practically on his hands and knees at times, crawling through the gore and discarded bodies, he slipped into the winding alleys.

And here he was, jumping at noises, creeping through the wet night like a timid rodent. So it's no surprise that the hand that fell on his shoulder resulted in a shriek, and fumbled attempt for his sword. Rafe's hand closed over his master's mouth, and he shushed him.

"Rafe, thank god! We have to get out of here."

"I always told him you cost us too much. And amazingly you get every man we had in the city killed or arrested, while you get away yet again."

Kory bubbled with rage, but it was painful. He started to call Rafe insolent, among all manner of other insults, but his second-in-command's blade cut him off as it slid into his guts.

"And that last time I went back to your brother, warning that you'd get yourself killed... He told me, 'That's the plan.'"

Kory fell to the ground, gasping as his life flowed from him so readily. Mixing with the reflective surface of the rain puddles he was staring into, he could see the cityscape being dyed red with his blood. Soon he wouldn't even be able to see that.

"It's a shame, those Nightstalker bastards murdering you like this. Don't fret, though, my lord. Vengeance shall be the Mathesons'. True war is coming."

Koryaksy's last thoughts as the red man skipped down a red street, whistling Danny Boy, were of his mother. He had been prepared to die in the throes of his rage, battling toward some quick end as the monster he had been turned into. But all that was left when death finally came was a man's fear and despair culminating in cries for a mother long dead. The only comfort when the moment finally came was the cold of the blood and rain drenched street below.

[The Last Oath]

Briss looked down toward the ford. "We'll start moving at last light, I can sneak all three of us across the river but one, we need some kind of boat, two there are alentian patrols and three you have to listen to everything I tell you about covert movement, we cant afford to alert the patrols."

Adela sighed out loud, "That is going to take the whole night! I say we dispose of a patrol and take their uniforms!"

"We could do that, but we risk alerting any other patrols nearby. Lets just get across quitely, Zenobia?"

#

There was a crack and two mages lay breathless on hard country ground. Tiyana Natiya breathed heavily, clutching the wound made by Koryaksky Matheson. The other mage got to his knees and begun healing it as best he could. "You said you could get us 10km from the city, Maar Sul's just over there!" he said. Tiyana cringed, "I thought wrong ok, shutup, try teleporting with no preparation after you've been stabbed!"

*

About an hour later the two sat at a self made camp, Maar Sul still in the distance. "Well, 10km from the city is where everything we need is, horses, food, equipment."

"Yeah yeah, I still dont know why you went through all that trouble to find me, who are you and why are your interested in my magic?" Tiyana asked the man.

The mage looked at Tiyana quietly for a moment, "A baby on the way, Tiyana?". "Thats not the answer to my question." Tiyana snapped back.

"Hmph. I'm Lirado Qavennurrie, Lieutenant X was actually a SAVAGE ED guy who was going to come into the police department. I killed him, took his appearance and identity but I never got his name so I just called myself, Lieutenant X."

Tiyana seemed to take the story in. Lirado continued. "The reason you've never heard of me through the Time academy back in Etruria is because I'm.. of the Dark Elves."


[[OCC]]Qavennurrie is pronounced, Kwa-ven-new-ree.

[Dignified Pauper]

Nymgrock glared at Anthony.

"Perhaps it's your priests they are drawn to. Knowing only they can give them salvation through white magic. Perhaps they are sentient enough to know that only those priests can truly end their march and they want to eliminate them. Do not place blame on me for the problems of your church."

"You are an insolent one. You defy even the most common forms of decency. If we were in any other situation, I'd throw you in a dungeon and let you rot."

"Very Cardian of you." Nymgrock mocked.

"Uh... Nymgrock..." Nymgrock glanced at Swenson. "I think they just got through. There a mob of undead that is devouring that priestess over there."

Nymgrock and Anthony both turned to see that one of their gates had failed and that the priests were trying to hold back the undead. Anthony's face was in horror. Nymgrock pushed Swenson behind him and ran up closer. As the zombies noticed him, they started advancing. Nymgrock quickly conjured up a spell and created a wall of fire between him and the undead.

"Anthony, come help me, now!" Anthony quickly rushed to Nymgrock's side. "Enchant that fire with your white magic."

"But these are our fellow Remoners and our fellow worshippers!"

"These people are no longer your followers. Consider them like the heretics you've burned before."

And with that, Anthony turned the blazing orange flame to a bright white and conjured a wind to sweep them across the undead. As it touched them, it instantly disintegrated their bodies to ashes, however, more kept coming.

Nymgrock pointed to the sky and Anthony nodded. Nymgrock raised his finger to the sky and then drew a line straight down to the gate where the undead were coming in. Anthony did the same, and suddenly, blazing balls of white fire poured from the clouds down into a concentrated section of the gate collapsing it into a heap of white holy fire. The gate was destroyed and great rocks blocked the path of the undead. It wouldn't be long until they advanced to a new gate, and the two of them could not continue with that sort of magic usage for a long time.

"I believe it is time we retreat back to the Mountain Homes of the dwarves." Nymgrock said.

"I believe you're right."

Nymgrock grabbed Swenson and they began rounding up the others as did Anthony and getting them toward the rendezvous point before heading up to the Mountain Homes of the dwarves.

[Matthew]

The demon had been masking its scent, and soundlessly creeping up on Jono for the kill when it exhaled, the acrid scent of brimstone sending alarm bells through all the man's working senses. He grabbed at its wrist, halting the glowing, dripping knife inches from his face. Crushing the fingers with his other hand, he disarmed his opponent's poisonous weapon at only the cost of punch to the face from a creature of unworldly strength.

Jono faced up at the beast, taking in the enormity of it and the feeling of its one radiation emitting eye crawling over his skin. With no opening to draw his katana, the swordsman threw his entire weight into its torso in a tackle. He avoided its kicking hooves in the fall, wrestling in the dirt for a while before ascending up its prodigious hump back to wrap his arms around its thick neck. After an eternity squeezing this struggling giant, who took every opportunity to slam the blind pest into as many trees as he could find, it fell to its knees and was successfully choked out. The other members of Jono's party chose only now to finally notice a problem and run from camp to his aid.

A blade was drawn, but Jono objected in between exhausted breaths.

"Don't bother," he said to Vaetris. "Before you can chop through to anything important, the others will have arrived."

"The others?" asked Hannibal, his voice coming from below Jono where he was inspecting the fallen demon.

"They travel in fours, mating for the entirety of their unnaturally long lives. I also suspect they're bounty hunters after the rising price on my head in Yamato."

"You have a bounty on your head, and you were going to tell the Alliance when?"

Jono was maneuvering the protesting young prince onto his back. "I did say something about having no time, Red. We have to get a head start while they're not tracking us."

He sprinted away, carrying the burden of Losstarot, intent on not stopping until they had reached the river and could muck up their trail. Vaetris traveled behind, staring holes into the back of Jono's head. Geez, she acts like she's never been hunted down by a married foursome of eldritch bounty hunters before.

[Kossage]

Iwasaki burped. "You should reconsider this, Leraje-sama. I've heard of Ismail the Strong. When the Shogun's forces tried to invade Libaterra years ago, they were unable to take over this desert from the Sarquil. That same man, Ismail, was in charge of the Sarquil warriors back then, and he and his men slaughtered my countrymen by the dozen. If you should lose--" He was silenced when Leraje grabbed his throat.

"How dare you use that word in front of me? I'm invincible, you maggot! No lesser being will ever defeat me!" the Dreadlord roared.

A bearded man with a bored look in his eyes sighed. "As nice as it would be to rip his head off, we need him for now. Anyway, you wanted to see me?"

Leraje released Iwasaki and turned to the man. "Ah, Besieger! Your orders are simple. Once I've crushed that fool in the duel, your men must kill every Sarquil prisoner while Distreyd broadcasts the deed to the fools in Vanna. I want the citizens to suffer by making them witness the deaths of their champion AND their neighbours! When their morale is at its lowest, we'll sweep over their pathetic city like a crimson tide!"

The bearded man, Flavius Severus, bowed. "Consider it done," he replied in a cold tone.

#

Vanna became even livelier than before. Guards ran to and fro, officers barked orders, elven slaves fetched weapons for their masters, children and elders alike painted their faces to honour the ancient ritual of war, and clerics offered various things to the spirits of their ancestors at the Tomb of Tronin.

Khalid couldn't help but smile. The Sarquil wouldn't go down without a fight, and Vanna was a besieger's nightmare: not even the then-mighty Yamato Empire, which had conquered most of the known world 16 years ago, had managed to breach the city's sturdy walls. As far as Khalid was concerned, demons would be no different than Yamatians in that regard.

The anger he had felt earlier was gone. <i>I shouldn't judge Ismail; he knows what he's doing. After all, he's led the Black Guard before and has defeated every enemy that has threatened Vanna</i>, he thought and turned his gaze to Ax.

"We must talk once the incident at the gates is over. You still have one more duty to perform as my wife before our 'arrangement' is over," Khalid said.

"And what sort of thing do you have in mind?" Ax muttered when she saw a determined, almost feral look in the Sultan's eyes.

"There you are!" Ismail shouted, interrupting the conversation. He was followed by Marcus, Qadohi and Razoul whose eyes looked unnaturally calm. "There's one thing we'd like to discuss with you before we get this thing over with."

"Well, spit it out, then!" Khalid growled. He placed his hands on the hilt of his scimitars and eyed Razoul angrily.

"I'm not happy that you and that outlander helped deposed Lady Adela. However, you're the Sultan and Sultana now, and I've sworn to protect the holders of that title and this city, so I'll work for you," Razoul said. "There are two things I've learned about demons while I fought them: they're strong and deceit is one of their greatest weapons. They're not just going to sit idly and wait for the outcome of this duel. I suggest you keep your eyes open during the duel because they won't be up to any good."

"They'll certainly kill the prisoners no matter what happens. Unless we want to witness a slaughter, we need to outsmart the demons," Qadohi said. "Remember the tunnels my Sirithai used when they came to our aid during the battle with Adela and Iblis? Ismail suggested that we use them."

Ismail smiled. "The plan is simple. I'll duel the Dreadlord while some of you use the tunnels to sneak underneath the unsuspecting army. Once I've defeated the Dreadlord, you can use the demons' outrage to your advantage by attacking the army from below and saving the hostages. You won't be able to help all of them, but every life saved is worth the risk."

"So, how about it?" Qadohi asked as she looked at Ax and Marcus. "Could you lend a few of your men for this mission?"

[Matthew]

Fel awoke in an unfamiliar bed. His hands went to the bruises on his throat, the only wounds he evidently bore from the encounter with that undead horror. Around him was a pleasant, lived in room, with doilies and yellowed family photos. He wondered what had happened to its owner that it was available for his recovery.

Sitting up, he scared a mouse of a girl who had apparently been napping while on watch in the corner. She fled through door before Fel could bring himself to say anything. After staring at the slammed door for a while, he laughed hoarsely and then pushed himself up to his feet and found his clothing. He was fully dressed when an unshaven and frayed knight walked in, a smile on his face.

"I pray for a miracle and some mischievous deity sends this small bastard instead. I guess I could chuck him the enemies' way and hope I hit one."

"Edric Gades. Do they let you wear the paraphernalia of a lieutenant as a joke, or did some poor fool actually promote you?"

"Not only that, I'm also acting Captain of the Watch and responsible for the survival of all Ravensworth's inhabitants from clutches of the Undead Menace."

Fel couldn't control his surprise, and he could tell his facial expression hurt the man momentarily.

"Yeah, I know, not as funny when we're actually doomed."

"Remind me to introduce you to gallows humor. Now are we going to banter some more, or are we going to kiss?"

No sooner had he said this when he felt himself swept up in the man's powerful embrace, their tongues exploring eachother in reenactment of a wonderful night underneath the stars of Remon years ago. They had spent the time of the Yamatian Invasion as comrades in the same corps, and a precious little of it as lovers. When the kiss broke, they sat just staring at one another for a while before moving on to more important business.

"Undead?"

Edric smirked, "We try not to use the Z-word. I know how much you've avoided politics and causes lately, but it all came to a head re-"

Fel rolled his eyes, "There will be civil wars right to the last two inhabitants of this damn country."

"Yeah, well, we're probably closer to that scenario than you think. As far as we know, these creatures have conquered Remonton and the rest of the continent. When the battle looked lost, I retreated here with what men I could to fortify the city."

"Remonton?" Fel was struck deeply. As far as he'd known before, this was isolated. Now his home was gone.

"What of the ship that brought me?"

"They saved you, took your wallet for the trouble of it, then turned around away from the zombies."

This forced a laugh from Fel. The wallet was empty anyway.

"Well, guess I'm stuck here for a while."

"We really could use the help, Fel."

The dwarf nodded in agreement, placing his hand on the Edric's own and smiling at him. Apparently he had run away from one cause right into the arms of another. Something divine was surely messing with his life's course.

[Matthew]

Azriel was told as he entered that his uncle didn't have long. He brushed off their condolences, and rushed immediately to the side of the man who had raised him. Straining, the dying man asked if it was true that Tronin was sending his nephew visions.

"I'll prove it."

And laying his hands on his uncle's wounds, Tronin's pure light flooded over and into them. The gods could do nothing for Sheikh Miraj al-Zarar, but the one true Sultan could easily.

Gasping, the Sheikh looked at the dark man who was his blood, his life renewed. Azriel helped him to his feet and they walked outside.

"My Sheikh, we're needed for the battle."

"We?" the man asked, now noticing the new strength within Azriel that supported their walk. "Azriel, you must tell me what has happened to you."

"No time now. The fool Khalid needs all the help he can get."

And they soon joined the others overlooking the armies of the Northern Horde, Miraj even now walking under his own power.

[Matthew]

Etna woke up knowing her brother was dead by one of Vesuvius catspaws. She slid out of the bed. As she pulled her robe on over her naked body, she glanced at the lumps on the bed. A young man and young woman, now dead, but very alive last night as they lived and died for her pleasure. Drugged into submissive bags of hormones, they had served their purpose well before allowing her the final ecstasy of their deaths. Someone would have them disposed of before she returned. It was a common enough chore.

She walked barefoot through the hallway, passing mute guards without acknowledging them. When she reached her shrine room, the depression finally hit. Her darling little Kory was gone. And those bastards had destroyed him and blamed it on Nivek. She brought a knife across her palm, and bled into a bowl on the altar. Swirling energies of dark magic entered the room as she spoke in a language reserved only for the Demon Realm itself. At the end, she spoke a word more familair to this realm.

"Yurius!"

The bowl exploded, dark whispers in many voices and languages filling the mage's ears. Tendrils of the dark energy touched her face and body, sending her into religious ecstasy. She controlled herself, though, and bowed before the altar.

"My lord, the wait for my time to take the Family has taken my brother from me. Even now Vesuvius plans to bring the full wrath of the Mathesons upon those street rats for his own sin. I must know, is it time?"

Whispers.

"Nivek? That boy?"

More whispers.

"What could be happening in Jardine that would help us?"

Tittering. More whispers.

"... Yes, my lord. I'll reach out to the Nightstalkers at once. Thank you."

And the presence was gone. She returned to her room, finding the nuisances removed. Upon closer inspection a drop of blood was left on the floor. She knelt down and dipped her finger in it, then tasted. A smile crept across her face as she wondered how Nivek would taste.

[The Last Oath]

Hours later after the commotion had died down, Nivek and the rest of the Nightstalkers not apprehended by the clueless authorities were back in their secret and safe underground ruins. Tired and exhausted by the weeks accumulation of events, the lacky's lay in the hall and the inner circle sat inside the chamber slumped in their chairs. Nivek had decided that they would spend a fortnight inside the ruins until things settled down, there were enough supplies to last and if they began to run out Nivek would slip out at night to steal some more.

#

Lirado Qavennurie led Tiyana across the country side of Maar Sul to a small cabin surronded by some trees. There was a stable with one horse in it. He opened the door and let his prize in. "Wash up, have a rest. We have a long journey ahead to the border." Lirado told Tiyana indicating to a water basin and some towels. "I've got to take care of some last minute preparations because of the delays."

Lirado almost stepped outside but turned back around, "I trust you wont leave."

Tiyana raised her eyebrows, "Why would I leave? You provide protection as far as I'm concerned, for me and my child and.. I have my own reasons for seeking the elven outcasts." Tiyana smiled and went to the basin, hearing the sound of a closing door behind her.

[Kossage]

"I've heard enough. We've dealt with threats before as one nation and we'll do so again whether our allies help us or not. This is our battle in the end," Miraj said solemnly as he reached Khalid and the others. "We're willing to do our part and aid the Sirithai in their mission to free the captives. My people expect nothing less."

Khalid's eyes grew wide. "Sheikh Miraj? I thought you were..." His voice trailed off when he noticed Azriel, and he turned his eyes back to Miraj. "Uh... it's good to see you alive and well. We'll need all the help we can get. I'm certain the townspeople of Kilm are heavily guarded by the demons but they have to be relatively close to the front lines if our enemies really try to execute them."

"I've already sent Xolkai back to our nest in the desert to alert the remaining Sirithai. It'll take a while before they can bring reinforcements here, though, so we'll have to do with the forces we currently have for the time being," Qadohi said. She motioned at Miraj and other volunteers who followed her into the tunnels to execute the plan.

"Are you sure of this? I should go in your stead and defeat that bastard," Razoul muttered.

Ismail placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "I don't doubt your skills, but I'm the captain of the Black Guard, and it's my duty to represent my unit. You, on the other hand, must coordinate our defences while I'm busy out there," he said and sighed. "I know now that I wasn't as good a father as I should've been. I should've made it clear to you from the start that I saw both you and Khalid as my sons but I was too clouded by my duty to see your sorrow until it was too late. You don't have to forgive me for what I did in the past, Razoul. All I ask is that you give Khalid a second chance. He's the son of Lady Razia and--"

"You don't have to say anything, father," Razoul replied and lowered his voice. "I said that I'll protect this city, and I mean it. I don't know if I can ever see Khalid as my Sultan, but I shall try. Just get back here once you've beaten the shit out of that demon bastard, and we can talk more."

Suddenly, a guard yelled: "The Dreadlord's here!"

Ismail responded by putting the Ebony Helmet on. It was the helmet that the captain of the Black Guard traditionally wore during a time of war. He smiled reassuringly and headed for the gate.

Khalid got up the wall just in time to see Ismail who was now standing outside the gate which closed behind him. Many black guards clanged their scimitars together while many spectators gathered on the wall to witness the duel.

"You didn't run off, after all. Good!" Dreadlord Leraje chuckled as he placed his tattooed hand on the hilt of his sword. "I'm going to enjoy crushing you in front of your pathetic companions, and I'll make you regret that you ever thought of facing me in combat. Prepare yourself!"

"I give myself to you, Tronin of the Scorching Sun. Lend me your strength!" Ismail recited the ancient war chant and drew his scimitars as he charged at the Dreadlord.

#

Qadohi narrowed her eyes as her sensitive ears heard sounds from above. "The duel has already begun. If everything goes well, captain Ismail will finish things shortly, but it'll take a while before we get to the tunnel that leads to the captives."

Miraj nodded grimly. "Lead the way then!" He and the others followed the Sirithai deeper into the tunnels, hoping that they would reach the captives before time would run out.

[The Last Oath]

Zenobia and Adela stood in the tree line when Briss came back from a quick patrol. "Briss, when are we going to cross?" Adela said in frustration.

"We'll cross by first light, definetly." Zenobia said.

Briss drank some water, "Woah, the place isnt ready yet Ok! Theres lots of hold ups and other problems. Lets build a concealed camp under this tree."


And then they dug an opening under the base of two trees, concealed the opening, ate and slept.

[Kossage]

Ismail parried a strike from Dreadlord Leraje. He felt the thrill of battle inside his bulging veins, and his muscles trembled with excitement as he leaped to the left, narrowly avoiding a vicious jab that had been aimed at his face.

The captain of the Black Guard snorted. "Is that all you've got?" he muttered, readying his blade. He could not help it; he had not felt like this in years. Fighting against the Dreadlord reminded him of the time when Belial had sparred with him. He had not lost a single battle, not even against Belial, and he intended to keep it that way.

Leraje attacked again. Ismail was experienced, however, and managed to block most of the attacks. When he couldn't, he used it to land a few blows on the Dreadlord. This man that stood before him didn't look extraordinary except for elaborate tattoos. And yet the Dreadlord's eyes also seemed to remind him of something... no, <i>someone</i> else, but who?

He quickly swept such thoughts aside. Now he just had to buy some time for his companions before he finally ended this game and landed the finishing blow. If all went well, the heroes would reach the prisoners via the Sirithai tunnels and escape with most of them before the demons even realized what had happened. His friends relied on his ability of stalling the battle, and he wasn't going to let them down.

"Boma ye, Ismail! Boma ye!" the voices of the Black Guard chanted from the wall. It was a Sarquil battle chant, meaning "kill him."

Yes... so many people relied on him, he held the fate of his homeland on the tip of his curved blade. Khalid needed him as a guiding spirit perhaps more than ever now that Belial was gone. Ismail had seen the change in the young man, seen that he had yet to face a true challenge. There were many forces that plotted against the young Sultan, and he had to be there to protect him. He had promised that to Razia and Belial.

Ismail felt his muscles ache; he wasn't a young man anymore. Although he wished to buy his friends more time, he had limits just like any mortal. A smile crept on his face. He felt like the tortoise in the famous Sarquil tale about the Tortoise and the Lion, and that reminded him that Refan had once asked him to tell that story. He'd make sure to tell the thief all about it later.

"Done already? Pathetic weakling! Just when I was beginning to enjoy this!" Leraje laughed and moved forward with blinding speed, his blade aimed at the black man's heart. "Time to say goodnight!"

<i>I've done what I can with the time that was given to me. Now it's up to you,</i> Ismail thought as he glanced at the wall where Khalid, Razoul and the others were observing the battle. He also saw the Dreadlord rushing at him. It would be over soon.

As Leraje landed the finishing blow, the black captain suddenly acted. His scimitar blocked the Dreadlord's blade while his left hand moved quickly and sent his dagger flying at the fiend's throat. He pushed himself aside and leaped at his surprised opponent and thrust his blade through the Dreadlord's eye. He removed the bloodstained dagger from Leraje's throat and stepped away as the bleeding body spasmed on the ground for a while until it finally stopped.

The people of Vanna broke out in cheers the instant the battle had ended whereas the Dreadlord's supporters merely stood still. Ismail saw how a black guard blew a magically amplified horn. That was the signal for the heroes underground to start the rescue operation. He hoped that they had reached the prisoners by now.

Ismail's eyes randomly wandered to a person who stood near Khalid, and he suddenly stopped in his tracks. The reason why the look in Leraje's eyes had reminded him of someone, what Iblis's cryptic words had meant, Shakkan's warning, Refan's visions, Fel's investigations... everything became clear in the blink of an eye. That person had been right in front of his eyes all this time but he had been too blind to realize it! Ismail gritted his teeth. It wasn't too late; he could still stop the impending catastrophe. All he had to do was to reveal the identity of the traitor to Khalid and all would be--

The cheers stopped abruptly and Ismail looked at his chest, noticing a bloody blade sticking out of it. "Here's a little hint, asshole. If you want to kill a demon permanently, cut off the fucking head!" Dreadlord Leraje hissed.

Ismail fell on his knees and blood came out his mouth. His hand rose quietly and pointed at Khalid. His eyes were fixed on that person close to the Sultan. He had to let them know that they had a viper in their midst. "Kill that bastard before it's too late!" he coughed, mustering the strength to speak. "His name is--" The sentence ended in a sickening thud when the Dreadlord's blade cut off his head.

Leraje pulled out the fallen captain's heart, grinned at the spectators and devoured it in mere seconds. He then took a spear and thrust Ismail's severed head through it and placed the spear firmly on the ground so that it pointed at the sky. The small imps close to him immediately rushed at the headless corpse and began devouring it.

"Let it be known that this land belongs to His Grace Malphas the Devourer, Lord of the North! I, Dreadlord Leraje, will crush you like I crushed your pathetic little man!" Leraje roared at the people of Vanna and walked away from the scene. "This was just an appetizer. Now you shall witness how easily we'll execute people by the hundreds! Enjoy the show!"

[Kossage]

Double posting to get these scenes done.

Khalid stood still, and eerie silence surrounded him. Then that silence was broken by a cry, or rather a howl so cruel that it even chilled many tough guards to the bone. "I'm going to cut you into little pieces, you son of a bitch! Soon you'll wish you'd never been born!" the Sultan hissed, and his voice grew from a whisper to a loud roar. He reached for his scimitars and looked like he was ready to jump off the wall and run after the Dreadlord who had by now returned to the army.

A strong hand landed on the Sultan's shoulder. "No," Razoul said in an emotionless and yet authoritative tone. "I promised my father to keep you safe, so I'm not letting you run to a certain death like some fool."

"You dare defy me, your lord?" Khalid spat and punched Razoul. "Ismail was like a father to me, goddamn it! And by Tronin's beard, he was <i>your</i> father! How can you say something like that even though you saw what that bastard did to him? I'm not just going to sit here with my thumb in my ass while that fucker gets away!"

"This is just the beginning, and your people expect to see you lead them to victory against the odds," Razoul replied calmly. "You're the father of the Sarquil tribes, my lord. Showing weakness is unacceptable." He turned to nearby archers. "Shoot the imps before they cause any more damage."

Arrows rained down from the sky and landed on the imps who fell one by one. However, one survived and defiantly threw Ismail's helmet at an archer. Razoul grabbed the helmet midair before it reached its intended target and threw a dagger at the imp that had crept too close to the wall. Once the imps had fallen, there was not much left of the proud captain's corpse except for a few chunks of flesh and bones as well as the severed head which was still stuck in a spear.

Khalid's eyes moved from the grisly scene to the massive army of undulating red that stood there in the horizon like a force of nature. Then he turned to Razoul, tears filling his proud eyes perhaps for the first time in a long while as he realized the futility of it all.

"You're a monster," the Sultan whispered to the black man, his voice cracking. He clenched his fists and had to lean on the wall for support.

Razoul's fingers wandered absent-mindedly on the surface of his father's bloodstained Ebony Helmet. "I am what I am. Someone has to be," he muttered and turned to the guards. "We must prepare for the enemy's offensive. Get everyone ready and stay on the lookout! There's no telling if some demon mages have already infiltrated this city and are cloaked among us even as we speak!"

"And then what?" Marcus asked quietly, not sure what to think or feel.

The new captain of the Black Guard put the Ebony Helmet on and narrowed his blue eyes as they fixed on Marcus's. "We wait."

#

Although they were underground and far away from Vanna, the rescue group could easily hear the sound from the magically amplified horn.

"That's the signal. The duel's ended so we have to move quickly," Qadohi said.

Nearby Sirithai clawed at the roof of the tunnel until it collapsed. They quickly reached the surface, finding themselves in the middle of an unsuspecting enemy army. The area was filled with Chaos Dwarves who were about to execute some nearby prisoners, but Miraj and his men quickly struck them down.

"Free as many prisoners as you can and retreat when you're done! We can't save them all, but a few is better than nothing! In the meantime my boys and I will handle these guys!" the Sheikh shouted at his companions and charged at nearby Chaos Dwarves and lesser demons who had finally realized what was going on. "Hurry! We don't have much time!"

[The Last Oath]

Taking Koss's lead of getting scenes done.

The makeshift raft hit the bank of the other side of the river Briss didnt know the name too. An hour before, he had lead the two women from their concealment across the tree line with the help of Zenobia's spell that silenced their movements. About halfway across the water the trio noticed a squadron of patroling Alentians around their concealment camp, but the mage-soldiers would not find anything there. The rest of the sail was quite.

*

"Well that took a good sixty minutes." Adela complained as they hopped onto the bank. "Shh, you can always swim." Briss replied.

"Quickly fools, archers and mages can still target and see us from here, we must make haste!" Zenobia hissed.

As the team walked up and onto flat ground Briss couldnt help but feel uncomfortable, and it was no coincidence. Before he could take in his surrondings he and his companions were trapped by hardy looking soldiers in green. There were even archers in the tree branches. The Lieutenant of the ambush approached, "Minions of Alent! Disarm yourselves and throw your weapons to the ground!"

The sudden shock stopped Briss from responding until the Lieutenant shouted again, he could hear Adela yelling something about Sultana of Vanna. He unbuckled Shadame's belt sheath and let it fall in front of him, the three of them wouldnt win this fight, the Lieutenant was only being cautious before asking questions and Briss still had his Butterfly swords hidden away.

"Briss! Arm yourself and protect your Sultana!" Adela shouted. Briss looked at her, "Settle down, Zen, you know this clown?" The totenkopf came forward. "Lieutenant, you are to escort my companions and I to the quarters of General Leopold Lain immedietley." The Coalition officer smirked, "There has been heavy Alentian activity in the past days, and now, three mysterious characters appear from the river-" Zenobia cut him off and stared at the figure in green.

"Listen idiot. Do you think I, in all my beauty and totenkopf garments would cross that dirty Alentian river at this time just to sneak in! Leopold Lain will identify me, Zenobia of the totenkopfs and her majesty, Adela Al Saif of Vanna."

The Seargent of the group whispered something into his Lieutenants ear. "Lady Zenobia, please forgive my intolerance. I shall have some of my men escort you and your party to the General." The totenkopf walked forward arrogantly with Adela as Briss put his sword back on and followed.

#

Some days had past, Tiyana had lost count. Travelling across land that swarmed with Proninist flags and camp establishments in the distance looked the same all over and confused her sense of time, funny being a Time Mage she thought. Lirado Qavennurie had insisted on taking extra time during the journey just to box around the Proninist camps to avoid unnecessary suspicion. She had not learned much of her fellow traveller, despite constantly being with him. Lirado kept to himself although he did talk, just never about his personal life. Why he joined the Dark Elves or the Crimson Coalition, his Time Mage past, nothing.

"Hows the wound?" Lirado asked. "Its a lot better, just sharp pains every now and then.." Tiyana replied. Lirado chuckled, "Yes, a stab to the liver will do that, I'm surprised your baby was not hurt, a miracle of faith." Tiyana smiled and touched her stomach with her one hand. Her mind wondered back a couple of months when she ravaged her life to cure the Blood Fever and still had found nothing. The Mystic Knight Briss, the travellers in the abandoned kingdom who journeyed with the King Marcus and the time spent with the Nightstalkers. Now she travelled again, this time with a fellow elf, who knows, she thought, maybe I can find some answers to the fever within the Dark Elves.

Lirado interrupted her thought, "We stop here, the border to Libaterra is close by." Tiyana could see the end of the forest line. "Why stop now? Lets just get there quickly." Lirado got off his horse and signalled her to do the same. "No, I'm going to teleport us straight into Trinty Gask, it will save the hassle of the border patrols and checkpoints, plus the Proninist prescence intesifies soon." Tiyana got off her horse who she had become fond of in the past days and nodded. "Don't worry, the horses will follow on foot." Lirado laughed, and put a hand on Tiyana's, "You ready?" A White light and sharp cracking noise followed.

[Aerith's knight]

As the Alent group trudged along the desert, an end finally came in sight as plants started to grow here and there and the landscape slowly but surely changed to grasslands. Though a strong wind rose from the south, a silence lay over the land. A great breath before the plunge, but stretched, until it was forgotten what it was waiting for. This was why Harrad despised traveling by the direct road, preferring to take the way along the river.

She hadn’t talked since they caught up with her. She just looked ahead with a stern face. Harrad hadn’t detected traces of magic in the air, but something bothered the waves of energy in the air. He decided it wasn’t his place to ask. Besides, the weird fellow Warlond, or was it Windeldon? There certainly was an Q in it, right? Anyway, the weird fellow was with her at the moment. It should work itself out fine.

The great ziggurat of Alent started to come in his vision on the outskirts. He hated to this to them, but he wanted these heroes to have the reception they deserved, and nothing less.

“Ariadne”, the old yet strong voice cracked, sand lodged in his throat.

“Yes, councilor.”, the young woman responded with some surprise.

“I will be leaving you now. I have matters to attend to. Be sure to deliver the prisoners and the companions to the council chambers directly.”, a small glint gleamed under the bushy brow, “They will be expected.”

“Of course, councilor.”, but before she could speak the last syllable there was nothing beside her was dust and cracked space.

-----------------------------------------------------

Ringing..

Always the ringing..

Hazy images before my eyes. Memories? Or is it happening now? I can’t concentrate with all the noise. Ah, it’s starting to clear up a little. I know her, don’t I? That face, the sand, I’ve been there. A memory then? Wait!

“..Rhylian?”, a very small voice said came from his lips. Weak, but clear.

“Her again? You should really forget about her.”, this voice came through clear and familiar. And the moment it happened, everything went black and hazy again. But when the voice again disappeared in the dark, one last thing came to him, at least that. The ringing.. it wasn’t ringing, they were seagulls. The sea..

“So annoying!”, the air cracked around the irate beauty as the seagulls fled from her glare. The beautiful golden hair spun around and showed a face both radiant and smiling, something which had not happened in decades.

“I have, my goddess.”, the Paladin finally said in an unemotional and monotone voice. But instead of appeasing the blond goddess, it only made slight irritation show on her face.

“Please, we’re hardly on a first name basis anymore, love.”, Hivena laughed at him. She’d hoped he’d retain some of his charm and wit, or anything really, but you can’t really expect something this abstract to work perfectly on the first try. She’d make due, maybe he’d warm up a little.

“I haven’t been here for so long, not counting the little desert trips. It rather went downhill, don’t you think?”, Hivena said with the bored look on her face again, but with a hidden smile she just couldn’t keep out of it these days.

“Indeed, my goddess.”, the same dull voice answered.

“You’re such a mood killer. And why did you stop calling me love? That was the best part of winning and crushing your spirit.”, She said in an annoyed voice. But was it true? She didn’t really enjoy crushing him, but winning from that ugly girl sure was worth it.

“I’m sorry, my lo-..love.”, the voice hesitated. Some part inside it was screaming, raging against the words.

“Still not quite there yet, I see.”, Hivena sighed, “Well, you’ll get there. After all..”

The wind rose up, and with it the parts of Nesa that were still in him, hanging on by a thread. A thread of love he had for one person. It would hold him there, it wouldn’t let him perish.

“You’ll be a father soon.”

The thread snapped.

-----------------------------------------------------

The air was still in Alent. The latest rumors had anyone but the few remaining soldiers in Alent hiding. In this atmosphere Harrad teleported outside the ziggurat. In wartime all teleportation inside the city was banned, except for high military council and even they couldn’t transport inside the ziggurat itself anymore. Two Alentian apprentice mages snapped at attention as Harrad walked by. He still had some respect after all.

Entering the council chambers the others were already there. The war effort keeping them locked inside, except for Omoroch, leading the assault on Trinity Gask.

“U’niviel”, Jemuel said in an expecting voice. He didn’t need to ask for a report, his tone spoke for him.

“Lord Jemuel, there has been some.. leadership changes in Vanna. However, the new Sultan says he will form an alliance with us, terms to be negotiated later.”

“Sultan? A man on the throne?”

“Surely Lord Jemuel doesn’t get caught up in superstition.”, A council member, unnamed as of yet, but we’ll call him Trittledin (because I like the way it sounds), asked.

“Old curses tend to grow strong with time. But we will see.”, Jemuel said with a disapproving tone towards Trittledin, “Their support is good news. Omoroch seems to have been stalled, and his forces remain on this side of the river”

“Another matter, my lord.”, Harrad said, a slightly change of tone in his voice.

“What is it, old friend?”, Jemuel said kindly, guessing the perils that “change of leadership” must have brought.

“The Atlantian paladins have brought Trinity Gask prisoners with them, and will be arriving shortly. I asked them to be brought straight here.”

“This is great news.”, Jemuel said, smiling at last, “This should lay their plans bare. If there isn’t anything else, we should discuss-“

“One more thing, Lord Jemuel.”, Harrad said, his deep voice urging once more.

“What is it then?”, Jemuel asked now, impatient.

“With the prisoners a group from the Grand Alliance goes. They are researching Blood Fever, and hope to find something in our records. They wish to porouse it.”

“You know why they are confidential, don’t you, Harrad?”, Jumuel said sternly.

“The books in that library are mostly filled with highly classified magic and information, meant for the council members only. You should know this best, as you have attributed much to it.”, Richeliue finally said after long silence.

“I do, but their cause.. It seems to me an urgency lays on it, my lord.”, Harrad said, finally forcing an issue.

“I will consider it then.”, Jemuel said finally, a disapproving glance from Richeliue.

Walking out of the council chambers a little while later a man he never met stood before him before he could even reach his chambers.

“Councillor U’niviel. I have to speak with you. My name is Officer La'melle, from the AMP.”, the man spoke hurriedly, as an impatient man finally having his chance to talk.

“What is it? I was just about to retire.”

“Your assistant, he’s missing. We’ve found dozens of apprentices dead in the last few weeks and we need to find him before it happens.”

Harrad sighed from stress. Sometimes it’s not just you. Life really sucks.

[Kossage]

Fog was slowly falling on the eerily quiet landscape surrounding the Great River in Libaterra as a small group of travellers were escorted to a nearby hill. Ahead of them stood a lone figure clad in a green armour who oversaw the eastern army of the Crimson Coalition, the man who was known as the Fist of Losstarot: General Leopold Lain.

The soldier saluted as he approached the armored man. "General, these travellers wish to talk to you."

Leopold turned to face the group, interrupting the soldier. "We're honoured to meet the Sultana of Vanna, but what brings her all the way here?"

Zenobia smiled. "General, we're here to announce that Lady Adela and the Clergy of Artemicia have decided to join the Coalition. Unfortunately the Grand Alliance manipulated her nephew to usurp power in Vanna. We seek a safe passage to Trinity Gask so that we can let Commander Losstarot know of this predicament."

"I see. The Alliance has been a nuisance, but we'll deal with those fools eventually," Leopold said coldly and was about to continue when another soldier appeared. "What is it?"

The second soldier saluted. "General, we caught more travellers who were trying to cross the river. However, one of them is..."

"Step aside, knave," a young voice commanded, and a blond-haired boy appeared with his blind and red-headed companions. "These two are my escorts, and no harm must come to them. I request a transport that will take us to my mother immediately!"

Leopold's eyes narrowed. "We're happy to see you alive and well, Prince Hannibal. But what of the Vulfsatz? Wasn't it their mission to bring you back?"

"Prince? Since when have the Losstarots become royals?" Briss muttered as he glanced at Hannibal.

"The Alliance has caught them and will take them to Alent as prisoners or war," Hannibal sighed, ignoring Briss's remark. "I must let my mother know about it. My Vulfsatz saved me during the Battle of Vanna."

"I see," Leopold muttered, and his eyes moved to Briss and then to Jono and Vaetris. "How ironic. Out of all the people who would escort an important ally and the young prince himself to safety are none other than dogs of the Alliance."

"If you're thinking of executing us, think again. We have a mission, and we're going to finish it with or without your help," Jono stated defiantly.

Hannibal stepped forward. "Jono's right. He and Vaetris helped me escape from the clutches of the Alliance. They no longer tolerate the actions of their comrades."

The general sighed. "Very well. Since your two groups are so eager to reach Trinity Gask, maybe you should travel there together. There's strength in numbers, after all."

"You aren't going to lend us your men? Is that a way to treat that brat or me?" Adela hissed.

"It's common sense: the smaller the group, the easier it is to reach our capital quickly. I have no doubt that Alentian spies will report to General Omaroch about your presence. Therefore you must continue the journey immediately before Alent sends its forces after you. We can hold them off, but there's no telling if some of their mages manage to sneak past our defenses," Leopold explained. "Now that we have you here, we can't afford to lose you again, but I need my men here for the offensive."

Vaetris looked around, feeling uncomfortable around all these Coalition soldiers. She wondered how the General of the Coalition could talk so casually about Alent's forces breaking through the lines. Did the man have no interest in protecting the son of his superior? She decided to keep her thoughts to herself and instead asked: "What would be the fastest way to reach Trinity Gask, then?"

The general nodded at an adjutant who gave a map to Vaetris. He pointed at the large forest west of the Great River. "Travel through the Snake Forest. Although you can't use a transport once you enter the forest, you can elude pursuers there, and it's the fastest way to reach Trinity Gask without being seen. I'll send a guide with you." He looked at the two groups. "You may discuss this plan in a nearby tent if you want, but I suggest you leave this area as soon as possible. It won't take long until Alent finds out you're here, and we can't let either Lady Adela or Prince Hannibal fall into their hands. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an army to lead."

[Kossage]

Waldheim could hardly contain his excitement when the group entered Alent. "I never expected to be invited here by the Council of Mages themselves. Think of all the knowledge this city contains! I'm certain that the great libraries will have tomes about the Blood Fever!" he chuckled and turned to Rhylian. His happy expression faded when he noticed that the elfess looked upset. "My lady, you've grieved enough. Nesa won't--"

"Nesa's alive!" Rhylian exclaimed but then lowered her voice to a whisper. "A goddess is keeping him imprisoned. If Leon's information about Alent is correct, the Council of Mages consists of atheists. Perhaps they can provide us with a means to pull Nesa back to our world. There has to be a way to save him... I refuse to let it all end like this!"

Waldheim remained silent for a while, trying to find a way to express his thoughts, until he finally spoke: "The gods work in mysterious ways. But... if it's true that your beloved can be saved somehow... we'll look into it, I promise. However, we shouldn't forget our priorities. We've come here first and foremost to solve the riddle behind the Blood Fever. The fate of Remon, no, the entire world, rests on our shoulders."

Rhylian looked into the man's aged eyes and bit her lip. "Yes, but it's just--"

"I know your inner thoughts better than you think. I felt as helpless as you when my wife and daughter succumbed to the Blood Fever. However, I later used my grief to fuel my powers," the elder mage said quietly. "There's a darkness greater than the one we fight. It's the darkness of the soul that has lost its way. Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope, the death of dreams. Against this foe we can <i>never</i> surrender." He narrowed his eyes. "You must thus focus on what's truly important, and you know in your heart that our mission is of utmost importance. Always keep that in mind when you feel lost."

The group reached Etemenanki, the grand ziggurat of Alent, where they met a group of Alentian guards in purple armour.

Among the guards was a tall, imposing elf who had a dirty blonde peach fuzz covering his head. "Welcome back, Commander Ariadne," he said bluntly. "Follow me. Lieutenant Berandas and the Council of Mages are already waiting."

They entered the ziggurat and soon found themselves in a large, ornately decorated, circular chamber which was rimmed with seats full of mages. Several podiums and tables sat in the center of the room. Above all the councillors sat Jemuel the Wise whose eyes looked weary but intelligent.

"Welcome to Alent. Harrad has already told us why you're here," Jemuel said. "This council has wanted to talk to the Grand Alliance for a long time, but the existence of the Crimson Coalition between our forces has prevented us from contacting you... until now."

Waldheim bowed. "We act on behalf of our Sarquil allies. The new Sultan Khalid wants to begin the trade between Vanna and Alent again if your lordship is willing to reconsider it."

"Yes, we had an unfortunate incident here some time ago with a certain member of the council who disrupted our trade with Vanna, but Leon Alcibiates and his companions took care of him. We'll be happy to work with the Sarquil again," a red-robed mage with glasses muttered. "Ah, where are my manners? I'm Richelieu. You'll have to excuse us that not all members of the council are present. Harrad is elsewhere, Omaroch is at the Great River fighting against the Coalition, and Josiah is... unavailable at the moment."

Ferron paled when he recognized Jemuel and Richelieu but he mustered the courage to speak. "The Crimson Coalition has been growing steadily ever since it was formed earlier this year. It poses a threat to all of us, so we propose an alliance between Alent and the Alliance. Such an alliance is necessary because only our combined armies can defeat the Coalition."

"We also wish to find a cure to the Blood Fever which is ravaging Remon as we speak. We hope that your vast libraries have the knowledge to fight against that menace," Waldheim continued.

Councillor Trittledin frowned. "You have quite the nerve, marching here and telling us to give you access to our libraries. Only high-level mages are allowed to enter. Do you think we're running some kind of charity in here? Well, think again! Quid pro quo: that's the name of the game around here! If you want our help, you need to return the favour!"

"After spending months getting here, you're going to refuse us? The lives of thousands of people are at stake, and the longer we stall, the more victims Remon will have!" Rhylian protested. "My lords, please reconsider this. If we don't work together, this disease will spread not only to elves but to other races as well. The Blood Fever is a deadlier enemy than the Coalition and the demons combined!"

Richelieu sighed. "We're not unreasonable, but you must understand that in this world only the strongest and the most cunning survive. We're happy to consider an alliance, but a recent incident in this city showed us that traitors and spies are everywhere. It's plausible that you have agents of the Coalition among you, and thus we need to make sure that you're truly committed to our cause. Trittledin's right: you have to give something to receive something. We'll let you access our libraries if you bring us the head of Glaurung Losstarot. Like your comrade Ferron told us, the destruction of the Coalition is necessary for our survival, and only Glaurung's death can ensure that."

Waldheim blinked. "You propose an assassination? How could we pull it off if your best mages couldn't do it?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, we've received much information today, and our esteemed guests must be tired from their long journey. We can continue this discussion tomorrow when all of us have rested properly and enjoyed a good meal," Jemuel suggested. "Berandas, escort our guests to Mr. Kite's inn and tell him it's on the house."

Lieutenant Berandas nodded at nearby guards and turned to the heroes. "Come with me. This meeting is over."

[The Last Oath]

Briss Phoenixheart had finally found himself on a soft bed within the confines of a heavily guarded fortress. The last month or so was full on and to sleep in peace was something he took delight in, regardless of whether it was given by his allies or enemies.

#

Tiyana Natiya and Lirado Quavennurrie found themselves within the walls of Trinty Gask. "I must report to the dark elves leader." Lirado said. Tiyana nodded. Lirado continued, "And you must come with me, Tiyana." Tiyana did not know why, but she agreed.

[The Last Oath]

Trinity Gask was militarily active. Soldiers camped while officers attended meetings and ordered the men in green to their duties. Tiyana walked through the city with Lirado who led her into the dark elf quarters. At the end of the hall sat a tall elf, raven haired, pale skin and engulfed within golden armour. "Kamelith." Lirado said to Tiyana, "Leader and most accomplished of us." Tiyana looked upon the authoritive figure, surronded by a few others who stood and some servants who served food and wine. The smell of the hall was that on burning incense, the very same she would burn back home.

Lirado approached the elvish throne, "Majesty" he said bowing to one knee.

Kamelith spoke, "Rise, High Helm Quavennurrie. Is that the girl?" He asked.

"Yes, majesty". Kamelith looked at Tiyana with curiousity and waved her forward. Instictivley, she bowed her head as in all elvish customs, "I am Tiyana Natiya, time mage of Etruria."

The leader of the dark elves nodded, "Yes, long now have we been searching for you, we desired someone with abilities like yourself, however even after finding Lirado did we learn that Time Magic is incomplete in individuals."

Tiyana nodded. Kamelith continued, "I am well aware of your situation, Tiyana. Join us, the dark elves and the Crimson Coalition need your power." Tiyana didnt know what to answer right away, she wasnt really sure who she was in the company off. "So the dark elves allied with the Crimson Coalition?" Kamelith chuckled, "And who are you officialy allied to? The Grand Alliance? They would happily have us exiled from their lands as our cousins in Folsworth do. The Alliance are not the only people in the world with ideals, we shall fight for an empire, just how all empires have been forged in the past."

Tiyana pondered what she heard, it was true what the elf lord said, besides Tiyana had nowhere else to go and at least those familiar to her would surrond her once again, she had but one question that would decide her decision. "The Blood Fever continous to plague us, Folsworth or not. I have studied and still do look far and wide for a cure, are the dark elves doing the same?" Tiyana asked Kamelith.

"The dark elves have a special division dedciated to researching and refining Blood Fever antidotes, medicines, cures whatever you wish to call it." Kamelith replied.

Tiyana nodded and bowed to one knee, "Then, majesty, I shall be pleasured and honoured to be apart of your order."

[Kossage]

A minor time warm dance to get two groups closer. If you need me to change anything, let me know.

The journey through Western Libaterra had gone by without any incidents, which proved that General Leopold Lain's Coalition forces had managed to hold the Alentian army away... at least for the time being.

The travellers could not help but notice that there were still visible signs of the destruction caused by the Faerfolc during the Great War over 11 years ago. There were many desolate areas all over the countryside, and the Libaterrans here were barely living off the land. It was in stark contrast to the wealth of Central and Southern Libaterra.

"Can you see this suffering around you? You might not believe it, but the land was in a lot worse shape at the end of the Great War," Hannibal said solemnly. "It was thanks to mother that the Libaterrans survived the Faerfolc Rampage. She united people under one banner and rebuilt this nation from ashes when everyone else ignored our plight. She, and the Coalition as a whole, has a greater purpose: to help people make their dreams come true... to create a world without borders and without suffering. That's the legacy of the Losstarots. That's why we fight."

They walked over a nearby hill and finally saw the grand walls of Trinity Gask standing proudly ahead. The former headquarters of the Rebels, now the heart of the Crimson Coalition, was full of activity as soldiers were preparing to march to the west to aid the Proninists against the army of the Grand Alliance and to the east to aid General Lain against the army of Alent. Both Hannibal and Adela looked relieved to see this safe haven at long last. They approached the massive gate of the city and the guards let them pass when they saw Hannibal.

Vaetris noticed Jono grinning. "What's so funny?" she asked as the group walked into the city.

"This scene makes me remember the time when Refan, Ax and a few others infiltrated Remonton which was swarming with Yamatians. Later on Refan told me the sensation was like walking into a lion's den. Now I kind of feel the same way," the blind man replied.

Vaetris frowned. "And...?"

Jono shrugged. "Many of their group members got slaughtered when they were discovered." He leaned closer to her. "Don't worry, though. I won't let anyone lay their hands on your pretty face."

"Well, that's reassuring," Vaetris muttered and rolled her eyes.

Zenobia finally spoke once the group had reached the city square. "Your mission's over. I'll take it from here, so you can go and get into an inn or whatever. Lady Adela and Lord Hannibal have to meet with Glaurung immediately."

"Don't be so rude. These people took us all the way here, and their efforts should be rewarded. At least they should be allowed to choose whether they want to accompany us to meet with mother or if they'd prefer resting in an inn or walking around the city," Hannibal stated. He turned to look at Briss, Jono and Vaetris and waited for their response.

[The Last Oath]

Briss knew he would have to get closer to the officials to gather more information about the Totenkopfs and reap his ultimate revenge, however he was tired and had constantly been on the ready for weeks.

He smiled, "Im gonna hit the inn." Briss looked down at the young yet impressive prince, "I'll be happy to meet with your mother tomorrow."

[Matthew]

Jono just nodded, his trademark mouth held back by the feeling of some unknowable dread forming in the back of his mind like a storm cloud. He turned to tell Vaetris she should probably leave, but she was already walking past him after Hannibal and company. Apparently the conversation and decisions had already been made in what felt to Jono like a couple of seconds. Time slipping out of his hands like sand as soon as he took his eyes off it.

Maybe I've finally gone mad, he thought soberly, before following with hand ready at his sword for any attack, real or imagined.

[Dignified Pauper]

They had moved everyone to the Mountain Homes, safely vetting them inside. Nymgrock and Anthony worked together surprisingly well; however, their tensions were still noticeable. After rounding everyone up, and the villagers were safe inside the Dwarf homes, Nymgrock approached Swenson.

"I must go. I am needed elsewhere." Nymgrock stated plainly. Swenson looked confused.

"But you just got here!?"

"I understand, but the King needs to know what has happened here, he needs found. I've trapped myself in this mess until it gets resolved, my life is no longer my own. It is bound by the fate of Remon."

"Well, I should go with you. You'll need a valiant knight!"

"Haha, Swenson, you'd only slow me down."

"I always get stuck behind with flesh eating zombies and dwarves."

Nymgrock paused for a moment. It wasn't as though Swenson was entirely useless, just more dopey than he'd like. Truth be told, Nymgrock had developed a soft-spot for the brat, and felt as though Swenson was his own responsibility.

"Fair enough. Let us go tell Anthony. He'll be fine here with the others. I can teleport us South. It'll take a lot of energy, and so I'll need you to find us lodging afterward."

"YES! ADVENTURE HO!"

************

The four weavers gathered in the Loom Hall.

"We have received information about the occurrence between Trinity Gask and the mages of Alent. Apparently, they are readying themselves for war. Trinity Gask has ordered another 2000 uniforms. Good morale is good uniforms. Further, we have come across knowledge of some sort of cult known as the Totenkopfs. They seem to have alligned themselves with Trinity Gask as well, and seem to be a powerful order of mages." Atropos informed the others.

"It would seem that we should send messenger to Alent. We know those mages love their high fashion, and we might be able to appeal to retail locations there. If we raise enough interest, I'm certain we can sell to them as well. War Times always brings out money to be made." Clothos stated dryly. Cygna looked at him and rolled her eyes. She was not about profiteering, she was here because of her craft and love of weeving.

"Might I remind you, that first and foremost, we are artisans by trade before we are greedy merchants, Clothos." Cygna replied. "While I understand our need for business, some operations of ours have become somewhat unscrupulous at destroying businesses in other areas."

"It is the nature of the business my dear. We must remain on top. We are afforded many novelties through our status." Lachesis snapped. He was not one for Cygna's moral positive attitude. He only wanted profit. The room went silent for a moment.

"Alas, Cygna is right, further, she is right in a business sense. Appealing to Alent would ruin our credibility and loyalty from Trinity Gask. They have asked for another 2000 orders, and you know how the politics can get when doing business with enemies. That said, Remon is a lost cause at the moment."

The four continued to discuss Remon.

***********

Zeranafska waited. She felt them closer. When would she finally be freed and woken to seek them out? She was anxious, and her body gripped tightly by the vines. Somewhere, she would be close enough to draw them to her.

[Kossage]

Nymgrock and Swenson found Anthony Torquemada and told him what they were going to do. The Grand Inquisitor listened to them and finally nodded.

"Perhaps it's for the better if you leave. At least that way we can see if these filthy undead are drawn to your presence or not," Anthony said and his eyes met Nymgrock's. "Despite all of this, I'm... grateful for your assitance. Your powers saved many of the clerics, and we'll need every cleric in this country to keep it from falling apart until His Holiness Jonathan Ferron returns. Perhaps... if you see Lord Ferron during your journey, please let him know about us. The fight with the Proninists is important, but Remon won't hold out much longer without the full might of the Alliance . The numbers of the undead are growing too rapidly for us to handle. I wish you luck. You're going to need it."

#

Zenobia led the group into a large manor in the middle of Trinity Gask. They saw a large coat of arms with the Coalition's proud symbols: a fierce red lion on a field of black holding a white compass rose in its left paw and a white skull in its right paw. The guards let them pass when they saw Hannibal, but they eyed Jono and Vaetris varily.

It didn't take long for them to reach a grand hall with a big, round table. It was the chamber where the leaders of the Crimson Coalition assembled. Right now it was empty except for armed guards and a woman with noble qualities wearing a distinctly green armor. She was studying a large map when they came in.

"Mom!" Hannibal cried all of a sudden and ran right into the arms of the woman.

Glaurung Losstarot smiled gently when she held Hannibal. However, her eyes hardened when she noticed the rest of the group. "You have my gratitude for bringing back my son, and you'll be compensated well. However, I wish to hear more about you and the ones who kidnapped my pride and joy. Speak."

[The Last Oath]

Opening the window to the cool and relaxing Libaterran breeze sweeping past his face, Briss Phoenixheart almost collapsed onto the inn bed. Kicking his boots off, thinking about the events that had lead him here, to the rebels capital, Trinity Gask. For now he would be known as an enemy of the alliance, although that was not where his heart was. It has to be done. Briss thought, falling into a deep sleep, for tomorrow he was expected for an audience with the worlds most feared knight, Glaurung Losstarot.

###

Two cloak clad elves walked through the streets of Trinity Gask. Tiyana sensed some disturbence in the winds of magic here, but nothing compared to the recent pull toward the south of the Libaterran desert.
"Don't let it disturb you, Natiya." Lirado Qavennurie said as he walked beside her. "Kamelith's presence does this to the winds, but all is as it should be."
Tiyana frowned at the thought of it. "I dont understand..."

"He was sealed within in a spell a time long past, and it still follows him around, bound to him forever."

Tiyana remembered tales of such, raising an eyebrow to Lirado for answers, "Why?" She asked, "Why was he trapped?" The male elf stopped walking, having arrived at their destination, the Trinty Gask inn. "Kamelith's story is one of jealousy and bitterness. A proud and magnificent elf he is, but behind that there is deep revenge.." He shook his head at Tiyana and walked through the door, muttering one word. "Treason."



OOC: More on the Nightstalkers later.. Glad to be writing again

[Kossage]

Razoul hurried to the tunnel entrance of Vanna when he heard news of the return of Sheikh Miraj's group. He looked at the bloodstained Sarquil and Sirithai warriors and the captives that they had managed to rescue from the demons' claws. The black captain exchanged glances with Miraj who shook his head. He sighed and gave a signal to nearby Blades of Vigilance mages who made the tunnel collapse as soon as everyone had gotten out safely.

Refan frowned as he looked down at the group from the rampart. Miraj had managed to save perhaps a little more than a hundred prisoners from the demon camp so at least the mission hadn't been a total loss, but it meant that the rest of the prisoners, numbering in the hundreds, were now beyond saving. He clenched his fist. If only there had been some way to save those poor souls. He hated being helpless like this, unable to save the innocent. If only he had more power...

It was then that it happened. Refan was hit by bloody visions of carnage while hearing the agonized screams of the dying in his head as the demons beheaded and devoured them. Other soldiers and civilians were suffering from those same visions which they couldn't escape even when they had shut their eyes and ears. It was like the plague of nightmares the dark cleric Distreyd XII had sent to Remon when the Yamatians had invaded over a decade ago.

Refan gritted his teeth. He knew these visions were magically enhanced and thus couldn't be blocked, but it didn't stop him from trying. This senseless slaughter was the demons' way of lowering the morale of the people of Vanna.

He wasn't quite sure how long these visions lasted but eventually they vanished from his field of vision. He breathed heavily, holding his head in his hands. It was too much to bear. He could hear children crying and mothers trying to calm them down. The demons had spared no one... even the children couldn't avoid watching the horrible bloodbath.

And then Refan heard a swooshing sound and looked at the horizon. Giant trebuchets of the demonic Northern Horde were now active and sent something flying through the air. When this ammo hit the streets of Vanna, Refan nearly puked. Severed heads of men, women, even children... those bastards were actually using heads as ammo as if to drive the point home that the people of Vanna would soon share the same fate!

Marcus stood nearby, his face pale. "They're monsters!" he gasped, trembling with rage at this horrible crime. "They're worse than the Yamatians ever were!"

Refan walked to Marcus and had a grim look in his eyes. "We'll make those bastards pay for what they've done, I promise you. We won't let Vanna fall no matter what happens."

Marcus turned to look at Refan and nodded. "Yes. We'll show them that there's still light left in this wretched world and that it's worth fighting for!"

Razoul hurried to the ramparts and yelled: "Prepare yourselves! It has begun!"

Refan turned to look at where Razoul was pointing at and gasped. The undulating red mass, which consisted of the bloodthirsty warriors of the demonic Northern Horde, was now marching towards Vanna.

[Nic]

Rhylian sighed as she studied her pallid visage in the mirror, doing her best to smooth her sleep-tousled hair. She'd slept fitfully, and what little sleep she'd gotten had been riddled with strange dreams. She couldn't remember what she'd dreamt about, but she awoke with a sense of despair and overwhelming loneliness. The feeling stayed with her as she gathered her few possessions and slipped into the hallway.

"Ah, good morning, my lady!" Waldheim said briskly. "I was beginning to wonder if something was wrong."

The elf shook her head absently. "Sorry. I didn't mean to take so long. We should get going, the council doesn't seem accustomed to waiting."

"Indeed. I don't wish to test their patience," Waldheim muttered. "Let us go, then; even if they won't allow access to the libraries, I was hoping they might at least grant me access to a simple laboratory. And I imagine you..."

"I have a request of my own, yes," Rhylian said quietly, pursing her lips. "And perhaps...perhaps they should be wary of testing <I>my</I> patience."

-----------------------------------

"You have my gratitude for bringing back my son, and you'll be compensated well. However, I wish to hear more about you and the ones who kidnapped my pride and joy. Speak."

<I>So</I> this <I>is the mighty Glaurung Losstarot?</I> Vaetris thought, meeting her gaze evenly. "Commander Losstarot. I am Vaetris Redfield of the Grand Alliance, though we acted apart from the Alliance in bringing your son here. As for those who kidnapped him...Hannibal himself would be your best source of information."

Beside her, Adela sighed impatiently.

Suppressing a smile, Vaetris continued. "If you want to know more, just ask. I'll retire to the inn until then, if you wish nothing more of me. It seems some of your other <I>guests</I> are eager to speak."

Glaurung nodded, her sharp gaze already focused on Adela and Zenobia. As a guard moved forward to escort her out, Vaetris took one last look around the room. Considering the important figures within, it seemed relatively unguarded...though the city itself, fortified as it was, would probably provide more than enough protection against any attackers.

Beside her, Jono was unusually quiet. He remained silent, even as they stepped into the still night air of Trinity Gask.

Vaetris raised an eyebrow. "If I'd known it was this easy to shut you up, I would've arranged a visit to Glaurung ages ago."

Jono grunted.

"Okay then. I suppose I should enjoy the silence while it lasts," Vaetris sighed. "Hmm. There used to be a shop nearby, I'd like to see if it's still there. Be a dear and get a room at the inn for me, will you?"

Without waiting for a reply, the redhead disappeared into the shadows.

[Nic]

Much of this post is taken from AK's (now deleted) post a while back, with some edits and additions from me. AK, if you don't like any of the changes I made, just let me know. ;o

The cold, dead city of Kageshima lay still under the red sky, a dreadful calm amongst the dark buildings. Nobody knew why the sky was red...perhaps magic, or perhaps the evil that lay in this place caused it, but nobody cared.

Over the river, in the Palace of Darkness, Malphas was sitting in his room overlooking the reports from the invasion. Things were going smoothly; almost no resistance at the border, and the city of Kilm had fallen easily. As he had thought, Libaterra was weak.

A sharp knock interrupted his concentration. "Enter," he muttered absentmindedly.

"Dreadful day, Malphas. I see you're doing well... for the moment," Hepnaz said with arrogance as he and Dreadlady Gin'vel entered the room.

"Hepnaz. What do you want?" Malphas yawned, rising from his chair with a lazy grace.

"Merely to inform you that by now, my army has taken most of your mines and villages."

Hepnaz paused, giving his words time to sink in. He grinned as the realization dawned on his fellow archdemon. "Such a shame to have your army fighting rebels and invading Libaterra, when the true threat...lies at your very doorstep."

Malphas stepped back clumsily, as if he'd been struck. "What? No...how--"

"The how is easy, but the rest...is up to you. I present the terms here," Hepnaz hissed. "You will capitulate and return your armies to Yamato. I will use your army to invade the West and the East--and all will fall at the combined strength! I will become your Lord, and Lord of all Yamato, and you ca-"

Suddenly, his eyes widened. Blood dripped from his mouth as he struggled to breathe. "No!" he gasped, sinking to his knees as blood poured from his back. "I was so...close..."

"What a boring old windbag," Gin'vel sighed before decapitating Hepnaz with a casual swipe. Frowning, she licked the blood from her knife. "Tastes rather dull, in fact."

Malphas didn't know what to think anymore. What had just happened in front of him? He narrowed his eyes, taking another step back. "What is this? What did you--"

"Perhaps you would recognize me in my true form?" she smirked, her face morphing, magic flowing away like water in the hot sun.

"You! But...why?" Malphas stuttered. Before him was Nina Heeate, Dreadlady and sister of the Duchess of the East. Beautiful, like a thorned rose, and as painful to the touch.

"No need for you to worry about that, dear Malphas. All you need to know is that I control the strongest army in Yamato now, and what to do...about you?" she purred, circling him slowly, menacingly.

Malphas was beginning to feel like a trapped animal. "And your sister knows of this...treachery?"

The Dreadlady burst into musical, sinister laughter. "Malphas, Malphas. My sister <I>made all of this possible</I>! If only she could've been here herself...alas, she has business to attend to elsewhere."

"Just get to the point!" Malphas growled.

Nina narrowed her eyes. "Very well. I don't really care about your army or what it's doing, nor what you plan to do in Libaterra, but I do care about fealty. You shall bow down to the might of the East, and we shall let you continue living and doing as you wish. Yet the final power lies...with us. When my sister returns, her empire shall be ready to welcome her home. In the meantime, I shall rule in her place. And..." She leaned in close to the Duke, her eyes glittering. "I know what you want, and I can get it for you."

Malphas looked shocked and slightly nervous now.

Nina stepped even closer, her knife softly tracing a line down the Duke's chest. "Mmmmm...you shouldn't think so loudly when there is magic in the room, Malphas. But I will forgive you, if you swear fealty to me."

Malphas looked utterly defeated. Perhaps he could betray her later, but if his thoughts weren't truly his...he couldn't do so now. He had no choice but to comply. "You'll leave me in charge of my horde?"

"Just bow down and kiss my ring," Nina soothed, her lips twisting in a cruel smile.

Awkwardly, Malphas bowed down and kissed the ring, gritting his teeth and digging his nails into his hands.

A white glow enveloped his head and he jumped back.

The Dreadlady laughed gleefully. "Such a useful ring, no? I got it from an elven ruler long ago...he used it to keep demon prisoners under control. You can read the inscription yourself if you want, dearest."

Malphas read the inscription, translated in his head and fell back in shock.

Nina smiled in delight. In triumph. "I'm sure you have much to consider, Malphas. I shall leave you to your thoughts."

"T-The guards..." Malphas muttered, glancing at Hepnaz.

"The guards have been ours for a long time, dearest," she lilted. "So simple, the minds of men...rather disappointing, really. In any case, they'll take care of this mess for you."

Malphas looked in a daze as he thought about the inscription, still in awe of the events that had just transpired. What could he do? How would he regain his power now? And the reality...the words...dare he try them out?

<I>"Fealty...or death."</I>

[Kossage]

"Are you just going to let them walk away and roam free?" Adela hissed after Vaetris and Jono had left the room. "Their wretched Alliance has sent them to spy on us! Why else would your enemies walk here with your son if it wasn't a trick to earn your trust?"

"Don't forget that Trinity Gask and I are one. Those two may have the sky above the city as their roof but it's a roof that <i>I</i> control. My soldiers are observing them as we speak. We'll find out what they're up to sooner or later and until then it's good to keep them around," Glaurung replied calmly, and her gaze hardened. "Now then... what about <i>you</i>? Hannibal has just told me that you were keeping him as your prisoner and that you were aided by the Totenkopfs. Explain yourself!"

Adela almost lost her cool with this sudden change of topic but she managed to calm herself. "I swear on my sister's ashes that I had no idea he was your son, mighty leader of the Coalition. Had I known, I would never have placed him in danger," she said slowly, emphasizing every word while observing Glaurung's eyes which looked cold as ice.

"A terrible tragedy nearly took place in Vanna due to our carelessness," Simon, the Totenkopfs' representative, purred as he walked into the room. "It seems two rogue Totenkopfs, Benedick and Beatrice, were behind this atrocity. Our enemies must've bribed them to betray us and kidnap our young lord. Such treachery must've come from Alent or Maar Sul. We all know how archmage Jemuel likes to play tricks on people, and Maar Sul's SAVAGE unit works in the shadows to disrupt us in any way they can."

"You speak with a silky tongue and yet you fail to keep your minions on a tight leash," Glaurung stated and her eyes narrowed. "Know this: once I find out--and that day will come, make no mistake about it--who helped them kidnap Hannibal, they'll wish they'd never been born. Stay on my good side, or I might have to <i>end</i> our partnership. Tell that to your Master. Perhaps then he'll have the balls to actually confront me directly instead of sending his incompetent minions to do his dirty deeds for him!"

"I shall relay that message once the Master contacts me again. You're the future of this world, commander. We wish to reach for a better tomorrow as eagerly as you do. The Master is already working hard to realize your dream... you'll see the results soon, I promise you that," Simon said, bowing, and escorted Zenobia out of the room.

Glaurung looked at two nearby soldiers. "Lady Adela and Hannibal must be tired from their long journey. Escort them to their quarters."

Endoran leaned closer once she and Glaurung were alone in the room. "You're acting recklessly. That Alliance wench, Vaetris, looks too resourceful to my liking, and our Totenkopf allies aren't telling us the whole truth."

A hint of a smile crept on Glaurung's beautiful yet calculating face. "Her blunt determination was rather refreshing and... nostalgic. I like that in a woman. As for our esteemed Totenkopf friends, let them play their games for now. It's understandable that everyone wants a bigger piece of the pie now that we're getting closer to our grand goal, but nothing they do can stop us anymore." She sighed and leaned back on her chair. "It's been a long, rocky road, hasn't it, Endoran? It's feels like yesterday when I was still just a... ah, never mind. The past has to wait: we must get ready to reap what we've sown."

#

Archmage Jemuel sneezed loudly in the Alentian council chamber. "A severe disturbance in magic," he muttered and looked at the councillors. "Did any of you locate the source?"

Councillor Gweneth shook her head. "I'm afraid not. All I felt was a black void... as if thousands of voices had cried in anguish. It was so chaotic that it was impossible to pinpoint. The source could've been here, Yamato or anywhere."

Councillor Trittledin frowned. "Ever since we let those bumbling Alliance fools in, things haven't progressed at all! Omaroch is idling when he should be crushing those Coalition fools, and Sydelius still hasn't managed to put his faulty toy back together! And now this dreadful feeling! As if it wasn't enough to deal with Josiah! Who would've thought he was behind those murders!"

Richelieu sighed. "Something is amiss. Josiah isn't the type of person to commit such atrocities. And this black void we felt troubles me. It was as if some monster had broken into my mind. We need to investigate this. The balance of the world might be at stake."

The conversation stopped when Waldheim and the other Alliance delegates entered the council chamber.

"We'll continue this discussion later," Jemuel said to the councillors in a sharp tone and turned to the delegates. "Very well. Have you considered our proposal?"

[Aerith's knight]

Harrad rushed along the streets of Alent with officer La'melle, turning corners without a breath of uncertainty, and without many words. Deeper and deeper into the darkness of the stone city, leaving the lighted middle center, Harrad was amazed the officer even knew where he was going.

"Where did you say we were going? Did you have a lead?", Harrad asked the man, slightly breathless.

"It will all become clear soon, but we should hurry.", La'melle said without hesitation or emotion. The buildings flashed along Harrad's view, old decaying archives of long dead mages, this was the old district, a memory left to fade. Harrad was about to stop when they reached a small square. An old fountain, still sprinkling small amounts of water into a basin stood between cold stone walls and strong iron doors. Officer La'melle came to a stop before the fountain and turned around with the same steel look. However, there was something sad about it now.

"Why am I here?", Harrad asked, guessing the answer.

"I'm sorry, sir."

From the dark alleys dozens of AMP's walked, forming a small circle.

"I really am."

"Why?", Harrad said with sadness in his eyes.

"He has...", the look of steel returned to his eyes, "Men! Prepare to charge."

Several AMP's brought out electrified nets, an invention Harrad unfortunately made for the squad. The subtle frequencies of the electricity render the calculatory part of a brain useless, rendering magic impossible, at least in any direction you'd desire. Mounted on crossbows, it certainly became a reason for mages to behave themselves.

"You do understand...", Harrad said slowly, while AMP's started to aim.

"...that I...", Harrad's eyes started to glow slightly, and La'melle barked orders.

"..made these things."

And then all hell broke loose. 12 AMP's fired at the same time, releasing 6 nets of dynamically charged steel nets. The water from the fountain sprang up, moving as a cloud between the men, forming a small ice bubble. The nets tore into the ice, nearly breaking it, but the charge seemed to leak away into the foundation.

"Men, draw swords!", La'melle shouted as he drew one himself. Standing in a circle, they liked like knights of old, yet their cause was anything but noble.

But before La'melle could give a command to strike, a small light appeared inside the icy sphere, slowly increasing in size.

"Defensive forma-", but the command was in vain. A blast of powerful electrical energy tore through the ice, creating a pressure shock wave, knocking the AMP's off their feet. Before they could recover, several men were encased in ice as a deadly cloud enveloped them.

"ventus ut incendia , audite meus consiliarii."

A red circle appeared between the AMP's scrambling up, swords at the ready. Spouts of flame and lava spewed from the hole, but only landed on sword and stone. From within the heat and smoke, La'melle could just make out an old man, haggard and small, but alight with a light of generations. AMP's ran left and right, getting away from the molten stones.

"I will ask again.", a harsher voice than La'melle could remember asked, "Why?"

"I had no choice.", the young officer said as the bright eyes came ever closer, "He has.. He has my wife and youngest daughter. I couldn't, I couldn't just let them die.", the harshness left his eyes and he openly wept.

"Where is he?", Harrad said, now with a little forcefulness.

"It's.. The killer is..", La'melle sobbed.

"I know who it is.", Harrad interjected, "Where is he?"

"He's at the-", La'melle's sentence cut short as he was impaled by thousands of icy spikes, like hail ground to a spike.

"Now now, officer La'melle. Let's not break the little arrangement we had here, shall we?", a relaxed shape said as he moved out of one of the alleys, "I should kill his wife for this, but he served his purpose."

"I trusted you.", Harrad said with the disapproving look of a father catching his son doing something bad.

"That was your fault, old man. I see age has done a number on you."

"The question I asked La'melle wasn't meant for him. Why, Warley?"

"Why not?", Waley said as he laughed suddenly, "Hahaha, turns out one of your useless inventions wasn't so useless after all."

Harrad could see the ground breaking up around him, earth showing through the cracks.

"Remember that failed invention to suck magical energy from the earth. Turns out it worked pretty well on mages. Why study that pathetic old magic when I can make my Geomancy stronger? Of course, like they say, you can't start off big. In fact, you'll be the first full mage I drain, you should feel honored, after you I'll have enough to attack the council, especially with most of the army away.", Warley said as he pulled out a small device containing three spheres, rotating to a magical frequency.

"You're making the same mistake as La'melle.", Harrad growled as he stood up from behind the dead officer.

"And what's that?", Warley snarled at his former master. The device glowed and green lines speared themselves into the old mage, crouching down from impact. Warley laughed nervously at the body now twitching, he could already feel the power leaking into him, but... something was wrong. This didn't feel like before. His laughter died as his former teacher slowly stood up, pain and anger in his face.

"....I made this device."

[Kossage]

Unithien could hear angry shouting from the ramparts ahead, which indicated that the demons and their savage allies were already trying to climb over the sturdy walls to enter the city of Vanna. She saw Refan and Marcus among others joining the fray to defend the city from these invaders.

Once she had patched up the last of the injured, she allowed herself to frown. Vanna's walls offered good protection but they wouldn't last forever if the enemy had siege machines or something else which it could use to break into the city. How long could her companions last then? She dreaded the thought.

Suddenly she heard someone barking orders, and she noticed a group of warriors arriving at the plaza. They weren't members of the Sarquil tribes and she didn't think she'd seen them with the Grand Alliance either. Were they mercenaries? She had heard that various merchants passed through Vanna occasionally and hired warriors to escort their caravans through the hostile desert. Perhaps these warriors had come with the merchants before the demons had arrived. If so, it definitely wouldn't hurt to have more warriors defending the city.

"You there! Cast some protective spells on us, will ya? We need all the help we can get to kick those monsters back to where they came from!" one of the warriors shouted.

Unithien smiled. "Sure. Do you want your magic shield medium size or extra large?"

The warrior grinned as he drew out his sword. "The bigger, the better! Size does matter, right?"

"Coming right up!" Unithien replied and began chanting a protective spell on the warriors who were already running towards the wall to help Refan and Marcus. The spell's effect would only be temporary, of course, but perhaps that would give these warriors a brief advantage over the bloodthirsty demons.

"Yo! You Pornists shall not bass! I mean, pass!" the drunken voice of Titaniel Focker echoed from the ramparts.

"Dammit, you idiot, how many times do I have to tell you these attackers aren't Porn--I mean Proninists! They're demons for crying out loud!" Refan's annoyed voice roared. "Wait, you've been drinking AGAIN!? We're in the middle of a frickin' battle!"

"Shut yer mouth and listen to the master of war! Lemme show ye bastards how my countrymen greet their fackin' enemies! Tweedledee is gray and pants go awayy~!" Titaniel shouted victoriously, and Unithien turned to him just in time to see him pull down his pants and let the whole demon army see his rear end.

A Yamatian warrior gasped. "By the might of Malphas! Don't tell me that's a--"

"Oh blazing hells no! It's a facking Scun...and HIS ARSE! Pass over the brain bleach, NOW!" a Chaos Dwarf yelled and puked.

A demon knelt in a praying position, sobbing. "Dreadlords and ministers of Chaos defend us! Deliver us from this abomination!"

A cleric of Mardük screamed in terror of this sight and spontaneously burst in flames. The resulting explosion sent a fireball flying straight into the Scun's rectum.

Titaniel blinked for a second. Then words began forming in his mouth and they gradually grew louder and louder: "F-a-c-k...fack, fack, fack, <i>fackfackfack<b>FACKFACKFACK!!!</b></i>" In the end he was flailing his arms like crazy and ran down the ramparts, passing various gasping defenders of Vanna along the way. An amazing feat considering that his pants were <i>still</i> down.

Unithien sighed and rolled up her sleeves. <i>Well, time to get back to work</i>, she thought and hurried after the screaming Titaniel and his burning butt.

[Aerith's knight]

Somewhere along the western coastline of Libaterra, the calming sound of waves crashing onto the shores was disturbed by a clashing sound of metal on bone. Lightless eyes moved to the side as a large wolf attacked. Narrowly missing the head, the wolf went limp as a bright sword slipped through its back.

Slowly slipping the sword from the majestic animal, Nesa stepped back and sheaths his sword.

"Ugh, where do these foul beast keep coming from.", a bored looking and slightly bulging Hivena commented at the blood and gore, "You said this was the safest place to be in this world."

"Yes, my goddess. Between the Zombie outbreak, the battles between the Coalition, The Grand Allience, Alent, Vanna, and the Demon Horde, this is relatively the safest place to be.", Nesa said almost emotionless... almost.

"I told you not to call me that.". Hivena said in a huff, he was taking all the fun out of winning to that ugly girl, "Such a coincidence that this bring us close to your.. what shall we call her, ugly minx of a girlfriend, isn't it?"

"I wouldn't know.", Nesa said as his eyes flickered for a split second inland towards the city of Alent looming in the distance. A raging battle was fought inside of him against the chains that held him.

"I wouldn't know, what?", Hivena nearly growled.

"I wouldn't know, Rhylian"

"Who?!", veins now nearly popping.

"What?"

What did you say?!

"I said what, my goddess."

"Oh for the love of me, you should really be more concern-", but before she could finish her sentence, rumbling was heard in the distance. Dark clouds massed where they had ascended from the higher plane, miles and miles away by now.

A flash of light, a thunder louder than ever heard before on that shore, and a wave of pressure moved over the most unlikely couple. Where there was a lush green forest at the edge of a beach, there was now only fire for miles. Their entry zone was nothing but burning rubble. For the first time in days, Nesa blinked from shock.

"So those two finally stopped fighting. It was a matter of time before they noticed what I've been doing, they did know I destroyed the archive, after all.", Hivena said with a near laughable demeanor, yet the small presence of Nesa still observant could detect a small tinge of fear mixed in between that laugh, "Just a few more days. So close now, I'll finally have... We have to move, they can't find us before.. We have to move!"

[Dark Messenger]

Ragnar took a swig of water from the canteen at his hip and wiped his mouth, looking around at the panicked faces of the city defenders. The drums and warcries of the advancing demon horde were dampened slightly by the thick walls, but not by nearly enough for his tastes.
Up on the walls a loud belligerent man was exposing his backside to the oncoming foes amid howls of protest.

The demons were attacking the ramparts and the city defenders were fighting like lions, beating back the first wave. Ragnar could see this was only a temporary reprieve though.

"Hey! Ragnar!" A voice boomed over the din. Ragnar turned and saw big Sal, the leader of their wandering group waving him up to the ramparts. "Get moving I need your eyes up here. We're in the deep end this time."
Ragnar was about to comply when another voice caught his attention and stopped him cold.

"Dammit, you idiot, how many times do I have to tell you these attackers aren't Porn--I mean Proninists! They're demons for crying out loud!"
Immediately his head started to ache uncontrollably and he started shivering despite the desert heat.
That voice...

His memories were shrouded by a blurry haze, like a fog in his brain and nothing had so far helped to clear it. Twelve years ago Ragnar had been found by big Sal and nursed to health from near death. Sal didn't know who or what had caused the injuries so Ragnar swore to himself he would find his lost past.
He had only one fragmented image to go on... A man, a unique-looking man who for some reason dragged up feelings of trust and friendship whenever Ragnar thought about him.

"Re.... Re..fan...?" Ragnar spoke hesitantly without even realising he'd said it. He looked up sharply, seeking the owner of that familiar voice, somehow knowing deep in his gut that this was a link - a part of his lost past.

Ragnar sprinted to the steps and flew up them, two at a time. When he reached the top he saw a man running away with smoke wisping from his behind and a woman running after him.
There!

A man in a dark jacket was just turning away. Ragnar pushed his way past people who were watching the demon army with grim eyes. Upon reaching the dark figure Ragnar reached out and grasped his shoulder, feeling a pressure building behind his eyes.
"Refan? Are you Refan?"

The man turned to look at Ragnar with glowing blue eyes and immediately the pressure behind Ragnar's eyes seemed to explode into light, searing down his neural pathways in a blur of jumbled images.

"It's you!"

[Kossage]

"If you're after that purse which you lost in the canteen last night, I swear I had nothing to do with it. I cross my heart! Honestly!" Refan cried out but he stopped in his tracks as he took a closer look at the man. "Oh, nevermind. I thought you were someone else. At first it seemed like... hey, wait a moment! Do I know you?"

He leaned closer to the man. He had a good memory, and that face in front of him looked familiar somehow.

"Back in Remon a long time ago... Daven and I were travelling with a group led by that elf Mori'sul," Refan said carefully. His eyes suddenly grew wide. "No way! Could it be after all these years? You're Ragnar! I mean, whoa! Talk about a surprise! You chose quite the time to reappear, I must say!"

Ragnar shook the thief's hand, and the two did their best to dodge arrows which flew around them. "I'm as surprised as you are. It's been a while since I've seen any of you guys to be honest, and you.. you're growing a beard now! What've you been up to?"

"Well, you know, the same old stuff: saving damsels in distress, beating the crap out of bad guys, travelling around the world," Refan chuckled, scratching his chin. "Oh, and about the beard: I had actually shaved it off when my sort-of-girlfriend asked me to do so. However, it's growing back. I'll get rid of it once this damn siege is over."

The warrior raised an eyebrow. "Sort-of-girlfriend, eh?"

"Well, we kind of have an on/off relationship. She has a very bad temper and she likes to kick guys in the crotch. It's a long story, really." The thief grinned and absent-mindedly stabbed a climbing enemy soldier in the face. "By the way, our old buddies Daven and Abel are here too although nowadays Abel calls himself Cain. I'm sure they'd like to meet you too at some point. Anyways, what've <i>you</i> been doing these past few years, and how the hell did you end up here?"

[Dark Messenger]

Ragnar considered Refan's question briefly before answering. "Truth be told... I'm not sure I remember Daven or Cain. I wasn't even sure you were someone I knew until I saw your face! A healer told me that I'm suffering from amnesia, either that or I was always this clueless."
A snarling face appeared, rising swiftly behind Refan followed by a grotesquely large body as a demon took a swing at his exposed back. Before either man could react, a guard in black clothes rammed a spear into it, driving it over the edge of the wall.
"You're welcome!" the guard shouted and dashed away without waiting for a reply.

Refan turned back to Ragnar and spoke quickly. "I hope you haven't lost your ability to fight as well as your memory?"
Ragnar replied with a feral grin and shed his dark cloak to reveal a length of weighted chain wrapped around his torso like a metal snake, as well as his customary weapons.
"I've picked up a few new tricks over the years. I hope I wasn't a slouch when you knew me before... If I wasn't I should hopefully be able to keep up with you."

A group of enemy warriors rushed the pair, weapons bared and calling for blood.
"HEY! We were trying to have a conversation!" Ragnar yelled angrily, backing away from a flurry of wild swipes. The warriors ignored him, intent only on carving up their prey.
"DOWN!" came the shout from behind and Ragnar dropped pulling Refan down with him. Big Sal and his aides launched a volley of crossbow bolts at their attackers, turning them into pincushions.

"C'mon Ragnar, this ain't like you! Are you gonna lie there all day working on your tan or are you gonna help us slay some demons?!" Sal was grinning widely down at the prone half-elf.
Refan stood pulling Ragnar to his feet and looked over to where a handsome looking Sarquil fellow was being hard pressed by the red horde.
"Tell you what... How about we catch up later? Assuming we get out of this in one piece?" Refan turned to leave, with a smile on his face and called over his shoulder, "You better live if you want to get this back!" In his hand was Ragnar's money pouch. Refan dashed off to aid the Sarquil.
I'll get that back later, Ragnar thought chuckling to himself. He loosened the chain and shook it out a few feet, then drew his magnificent longsword - readying himself for the desperate battle.


The Northern Horde was attacking in earnest now, a great heaving mass of muscle, metal and bone throwing itself at the beleagured defenders of Vanna.
Warning bells and horns were sounding all over the city as the number of wounded and dead steadily increased.
Suddenly there was an impact against the wall that threw everyone flat and a sound lke the earth itself roaring in pain.
"Breach! Breach!" someone was screaming the word over and over. Ragnar looked over and saw a man in dark robes, arms crackling with magical discharge, standing before a massive hole in the wall. Enemies were pouring through by the dozens.
Ragnar raised Gorgoleon high, the runes on the blade gleaming in the light. "Blades of Lysse.... Plug that hole!" he roared and the warrior company that was the Blades disengaged and dashed alongside him, headed for the breach.

[Aerith's knight]

As the device connected to Harrad's magical core, his strength started to leave him, little by little.

Wouldn't it be irony at its greatest if his own device killed him? No, it were thoughts like that that killed. Warley... such a disappointment. Not only to commit these atrocious deeds out of lazyness, but to think, but to forget.

"I made this device."

The device started to spin faster and faster, distribution levels overloading. Before Warley noticed what was happening, a flash of blinding green light, and the two mages were thrown back. Where once was a pavement of solid rock, there was a spot of blackened glass.

Harrad slowly got up, coughing up things he was sure were supposed to stay inside his body. When the smoke cleared, he saw Warley get up, but..

"Oh Warley, what have you done?", Harrad lamented. Warley lost several chunks of flesh in the explosion, and his right eye socket, but what lay underneath was far more troubling, An eerie green a white glow, Magic poisoning.

"Aren't you proud, old man? Aren't you delighted? You're the master with the strongest apprentice in the world!"

"It's not supposed to be like this, how could you do this to yourself?!"

"Without your device, I may not be longed for this world, but I will sure as hell TAKE YOU WITH ME!", Warley shouted as the rock moved around his feet, constraining him. A terrible wind suddenly erupted, almost drowning out the insane laughter coming from the source.

"Let it begin then", Harrad slowly said, whispers died out in the wind.

For an hour burst of light, thunder and wind filled the otherwise quiet night.

Both mages were starting to get tired beyond belief, but they knew, this was to the death. Decades of magic knowledge to the power of two dozen mages, it was a measure of brute force versus ingenuity.

"exorior , calx gaurdians of vetus"

Harrad whispered as two silver disks appeared on the ground. From each a stone titan emerged.

"Is that all you've got?", Warley merely laughed as he waved his hands, losing parts of his fingers as he did. His flesh started slowly to deteriorate, but for Harrad, it wasn't fast enough by a long shot. Cloud started to darken overhead, and a flash of lightning crumbled one of the titans to rubble. Harrad moved his hands as fast as he could, whispering all the while. The second titan took a swipe at the deteriorated mage before the next lightning bolt hit him, but Warley jumped aside, losing more flesh in the effort. He looked more like zombie than human, but he was the only one who had nothing to lose.

"Looks like you're next, old man." Warley grinned, as far as he could with half his face, until a white mesh covered the square, from it a metal net, redirecting all electrical charges.

"Very clever, but looks like you've run out of steam from that little endavour.", Warley laughed. Harrad was panting heavily from effort. He was an old man, after all. He fell to his knees, but when he looked up through the rain, he smiled.

"...What?", the smiling unnerved the decaying geomancer.

"You know Warley, perhaps you should have left some of those apprentices alive.", Harrad smiled as he started to whisper quietly.

"Why would I do that? They were weak, but withing me, they were strong, even if it didn't last long. What good would it have done?", Warley merely sneered.

"Because friends might have helped you out here, I'll demonstrate. Patefacio , prodigium ut inritus!", Harrad screamed as a dark screen appeared in front of Warley. He wanted to laugh, but a spear had been pushed through his neck, before he washed into it. The portal to the void collapsed and all was silent again in the streets of Alent.

"I leave town for a few days and see what trouble you get yourself into. Perhaps you are getting old.", the cloaked man said as he helped Harrad up.

"Need I remind you that you are far older than I am, Omoroch?"

"Not if you want to live.", Omoroch laughed, "Now come on, we have to get to the council chambers. My men will clean this mess up."

"Very well, lead on."

"I suppose you'll be in a for new apprentice then? You know, I know just the perfect girl, fits the job perfectly. She wanted to be a healer.", Omoroch and Harrad laughed as several soldier walked into the square.

"So.. How are we supposed to clean this up?", one of the soldiers said as he scratched his head. The other one shrugged and paled a little when he looked up.

"NOT IT!"

"NO- Aww, man. You always do that."

"Because I always win."

[Kossage]

There was a long silence in the council chamber of Alent until Waldheim answered.

"Looks like we have no choice. If you provide us with intel on the Coalition's activities in Trinity Gask, we'll see what we can do about Glaurung," he said. "However, the Blood Fever is a greater threat. The longer you stall, the more elves will lose their lives. Besides, it turned out that one of our Vulfsatz prisoners has in fact been infected so there's a possibility that the infection might spread here as well."

"My mother was an elf, and I'm not afraid of this disease," Gweneth interrupted. "We have the prisoners contained in an isolated dungeon which guarantees that the plague won't spread like it did in Remon. Everything is under control. Right now it's more important to neutralize the Coalition and--"

The doors of the chamber opened loudly all of a sudden, and three men entered the room. Two of them took their seats while the third one, who wore a brown cloak, stood between Jemuel and the delegates of the Alliance.

Trittledin's eyes grew wide. "What is this nonsense? Harrad appears here as if he'd been run over by a carriage! And why is he here with Omaroch... and Josiah?"

"Your accusations about Josiah have turned out false. We discovered the real culprit and have dealt with him... although it required the deaths of many fine Anti Mage Police. The new captain of the AMP will deliver a full report about this incident to the council tomorrow at the latest," Omaroch stated wearily. "At the very least you owe Josiah an apology, councillor."

Trittledin sighed. "Well... perhaps I was too hasty about judging Josiah. But I did it out of necessity! These times you can't trust anyone you don't know well beforehand."

Jemuel leaned forward. "Yes, we'll discuss that later. However, I doubt that was the only reason you came all the way here, Omaroch. Speak quickly. We still have a few matters to discuss with the delegates of the Grand Alliance."

"We experienced a great disturbance in magic lately. Although part of that feeling must've been caused by the killer whom Harrad defeated, there's more to it than that," Omaroch said. "Some time ago a messenger from a demon army known as the Northern Horde contacted me. He delivered an ultimatum: the horde would begin the invasion of Libaterra soon. I couldn't dwell on the matter at the time, but these recent disturbances in magic have convinced me that the horde has begun its campaign sooner than I expected."

Alistair turned to Leon and Khasra. "So the demons we saw at Vulpengaard Keep back then were the Northern Horde. They were on the move at the time but we didn't pay much attention to their movements as we were in a hurry to reach the Silverbranch Tree. If the demons have begun to move northward, it'd mean that they'd target the biggest obstacle on the way to the Libaterran heartlands: Vanna."

"I'm afraid so," Omaroch stated grimly. "They might've reached Vanna by now. It's crucial for them to crush that city in order to have a base from which to supply their troops. Knowing the importance of Vanna, they'll have sent a large force, perhaps even their entire army, to claim it for their master."

Leon coughed. "I have a magical branch which is needed to cure the Blood Fever. However, the blades Dawn and Dusk are required as well. Unfortunately Marcus, the wielder of Dusk, is in Vanna, and Dawn has been stolen from its wielder Ax in the same city. If the unknown thief is still in Vanna, both blades will be in danger of falling into the demons' hands. Without the blades we'll never be able to find a cure to the Blood Fever even if we had knowledge from Alent. We should aid the people in Vanna or at least take Dawn and Dusk to safety before it's too late."

"That settles it. I'll investigate the Northern Horde. If I can also locate Dawn and Dusk while I'm at it, all the better. If the entire horde is on the move, there's no point in sending any of you to Vanna. You'll only end up as demon food," Omaroch muttered and looked at the Alliance members. "It's good to see familiar faces among you, but it seems we must postpone this reunion for now." He snapped his fingers and teleported away.

"Did... did he do what I think he did?" Trittledin gasped. "He actually left without OUR permission! This is outrageous!"

Richelieu leaned closer to Jemuel. "Omaroch isn't the type to panic like that. There's more behind this than meets the eye. I don't think he'll be able to handle it alone."

"There is a way. We know you need all the mages here to combat the Coalition, but you could use our group. Your mages could teleport us back to Vanna and we could locate Dusk and perhaps Dawn before the demons arrive," Alistair suggested. "I'm sure you understand how important it is to bring those blades here as soon as possible. Trinity Gask can wait."

Waldheim shook his head. "I must disagree. The demons might already be besieging Vanna so it'd be a suicide to return there. If we must move, I suggest Trinity Gask. If we can neutralize the Coalition's leadership, the path between Libaterra and Maar Sul will be left open, and Maar Sulais reinforcements can arrive here to defend the heartlands from demons. I'm afraid the best option is to leave Vanna on its own and concentrate our defenses on cities which still stand a chance against our enemies." He looked at his comrades. "Your thoughts?"

[Nic]

"No."

Rhylian shifted uncomfortably as she felt the Councillors' sharp gazes upon her, but her voice remained firm. "Do what you wish, Waldheim, but I've had enough of this. We came here in good faith, hoping against hope that this <I>glorious</I> city might hold some answers. We've traveled over sea and sand, watched thousands suffer, overcome countless hardships, faced the Gods themselves to come here! And for what? For <I>WHAT</I>?" Her green eyes flashed as she looked around the room in contempt. "No. No, I did not come all this way to be put on yet another errand by those incapable of doing their own dirty work."

Trittledin, as expected, was livid. "We should kill you where you stand, elf! Do you forget where you are? You stand in the heart of <I>our</I> territory! If you think you can just--"

"And if you think you can wag your finger at me and force me to obey, you are sadly mistaken," Rhylian spat. "Who are you to demand anything of me? Keep in mind, Councillor, that our allies may become...<I>suspicious</I> if we do not return in a timely manner. Whether Vanna falls or not, the Alliance will survive. Do you truly wish to incur their wrath? Can Alent bear the weight of war on <I>two</I> fronts?"

She stared at Jemuel, her eyes hollow. "All your power, all your technology, all your brilliant minds...and yet you sit idly by as the world crumbles around you. My mother once told me that Alent was the future. If <I>this</I> is truly the future, I think I'll take my chances with the present...with my friends, and without your 'aid.'"

And finally, the elf did seem aware of her surroundings. She closed her eyes and waited.

-----------------------------------

Wearily, Ax held up her arm. Wearily, she shook her head as Rack crashed into it and tumbled backwards. "Just...where the <I>fuck</I> do you think you're going?" she grumbled. "I thought I told you Blades to guard that wall!"

Rack rubbed his forehead, confused. "But I thought the Blades were supposed to be plugging that hole!"

Ax sighed. "Not <I>our</I> Blades, dolt. <I>Those</I> Blades!"

"Blades! Someone said Blades?" yelped a nearby unfamiliar man. "I thought we were supposed to--"

Jose appeared suddenly, looking bewildered as he helped his partner up. "But we're the Blades!"

The unfamiliar man looked indignant. "But <I>we're</I> the Blades!"

Both men raised their blades defiantly.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Ax bellowed. "You're all about to get a blade up the <I>ass</I> if you keep this up! Just go do something productive, for fuck's sake!"

"Oh!" cried another unfamiliar man. "Did someone say Blades?"

Ax's eye twitched. Her mouth opened.

Miles away, the demons at the rear of the horde shivered as an inhuman shriek of pure rage washed over them. Wide-eyed, a demon turned to his friend. "What the crap was that? The Dreadlord?"

His friend shook his head somberly. "Nay. Something much, much worse, friend: A <I>woman</I>."

[The Last Oath]

"Mr Phoenixheart, you are required to keep your audience with our Mighty Leader, Glaurung Losstarot. Guards will escort you from the quarters entrance in an hour." The inn keeper knocked at Briss's door, relaying the message from the Rebels guard. Briss opened the door drowsily, nodding his head in acknowledgment with a grin. He had slept for a long while, a full twelve hours or so, feeling his body much recovered.

A short time later, washed, neatly dressed and with Shadame buckled to his side, Briss passed into the chamber of Glaurung. He had seen her when he last passed through Trinity Gask with the fellowship from a distance, close up however, he could see why she was the leader; proud and strong in her green armour. He used the same title the inn keeper did, "Mighty Leader, Glaurung Losstarot. An honour to finally meet with you in person." Briss stood erect with his hand on Shadame's hilt.

The knight in green armour looked up from some papers she was reading through, fixing her gaze on the man before her, "Briss Phoenixheart. A Maar Sulais Knight from SAVAGE SRT, a lover of Adela and escorting a high profile group across the continent, finds himself in my territory, before me today." Briss wondered which group the female leader meant, the fellowship or Adela. "An ex SAVAGE SRT, ma'am." Briss added.

Glaurung handed the papers to her guard who passed them to Briss, it was an intelligence report addressing him. "Yes, ex Maar Sul military, but you still protect it with your life, you are loyal, travelling with royals, through this very city not long before." Ahh Briss thought, so she meant Leon's group. Briss waited for Glaurung to finish but she said nothing, keeping her hard stare on him instead.

"You are correct." Briss spoke. "But my viewpoint has changed.." Briss pointed to the intelligence report he had in one hand, "This poor report fails to mention i've been acting independent of any nation for quite some time, I served the alliance while it served my goals, and now I am here with the Coalition, for I have seen the Alliance's true colours." Glaurung's gaze fixed onto Briss more intensly,

"Filthy mercenary, what are you? Some kind of spy! Here to share our secrets back to your wretched alliance friends! Do not take me for a fool, Phoenixheart." There was a stiff silence, and then Briss chuckled. "Please, please, do not regard the alliance as my friends, my belief in them is dead as their trust in me is diminished, im sure. I have seen their true colours, Glaurung. Perhaps you know how Adela came to be here."

Glaurung's gaze did not change, "I know how. I also know how important having her as prisoner was to the alliance and that fool, Khalid. Which questions you greatly, what is your purpose here?... I could use you, Phoenixheart, and I'd like to hear about these, true colours, of which you speak, but I have not decided what will be your fate. You will be summoned again after further investigation and if you try to leave the city I shall conclude you are a spy and you will be killed." Briss breathed out and bowed his head, "I shall await, then." Turning on his heel and exiting the chamber to the hall. "Briss?" A soft, feminine voice echoed down the hallway, Briss turned his head, there stood two elves, one tall man and a blonde haired elf, it was the beautiful elf he had met in Maar Sul, Tiyana Natiya.

[Aerith's knight]

"Might I suggest a compromise?", Harrad said tentatively, the outburst shocked most of the other council, except for Jemuel, stoic as always, and Trittledin, ready to burst.

"I expect not everyone in your party can understand and interpret the old texts, perhaps one or two of you? If I were to porous the archives for anything related to the Blood fever, and pass this on to those people, the rest could go to Vanna to retrieve the swords."

"Why would we do this? Why would you waste your time on this, Harrad?", Trittledin replied with annoyance.

"This way they won't have to go into our archives, meaning that none of our sensitive materials will be compromised. And in return of this small favor on my part, they will make a promise that when or even while they sort out the blood fever, they will do everything they can to oppose the Coalition, taking out the leader as one of the beginning moves. Perhaps even right after the swords have been returned.", Harrad finished with a smile at Rhylian, "I could certainly use some quiet time in the archives, after the last few weeks. What do you think, Lord Jemuel?"

[Kossage]

"I'm not against it," Jemuel said. "We've all seen the danger posed by the Coalition, and we shouldn't ignore the demons either. These two foes will force us to fight on two fronts, and we certainly can't afford to anger the Alliance or the Grey Cult. It's understandable that our guests might be suspicious of our motives after what has happened earlier, but we should focus on setting aside our differences and work together."

Richelieu nodded. "Lord Jemuel is right. As long as we're divided, we'll be crushed easily. We need Vanna as much as it needs us, but at the moment we simply can't stretch our forces too wide. We're not incapable of doing our job, Lady Rhylian, we simply have many things we must consider, and Glaurung is much more dangerous to us at the moment than any demon horde. We don't desire Remon or Maar Sul to act as our pawns; rather, we simply wish for co-operation which will be mutually beneficial to us."

"The Alliance itself is not a united whole. We have different goals, dreams and separate paths we must follow. Lady Rhylian has hers, and I have mine," Waldheim muttered. "I ask for you to let me stay with you. I've travelled for months and my aching joints require some rest. Perhaps my knowledge would be of use to you while my comrades do what their hearts tell them to do."

Gweneth smiled warmly. "You're certainly welcome, baron," she stated and looked at the delegates once she'd seen Jemuel nodding approvingly. "As far as this council is concerned, you're free to do as you please. If you wish to travel by teleporting, Lieutenant Berandas will take you to our colleagues who can teleport you wherever you desire. Consider this an act of friendship and a way for us to show that we desire an alliance more than anything else."

Jemuel's calculating eyes looked at the delegates. "Unless there's something else you wish to say, this discussion is over. I hope you'll consider an alliance with us in the near future. After all, it serves the interests of both parties."

[Kossage]

A demon ran to Colonel Nobuo Iwasaki who was overseeing the second legion's attack. "We're encountering heavy resistance at the wall, sir. The Sarquil won't let our forces break in as easily as we thought."

Iwasaki frowned. "This won't do. Prepare our special forces for liftoff and unleash the Dominator. It's time to show the Sarquil who's in charge!"

The demon saluted and headed for the catapults. <i>Poor bastards are in for a surprise</i>, he thought and grinned.

#

Various Blades and warriors of the Black Guard did their best to defend the hole in the wall from the advancing enemy horde. So far they had been successful but they were heavily outnumbered and had to fight twice as hard as the enemy to even stand a chance.

Suddenly the enemy's catapults opened fire. It wasn't until fierce, drunken roars filled the sky that the defenders of Vanna finally realized what kind of dreadful <i>ammo</i> the enemy was using.

"We're under attack!" a Sarquil warrior yelled. "Landsick, pissed-off Chaos Dwarves are raining from the sky!"

Only moments later dozens of Chaos Dwarves, aided by black magic, landed safely inside the city and attacked the surprised defenders in a drunken rage.

"We can't let them clear the hole!" Refan barked from the ramparts as he saw the Chaos Dwarves advance. He cursed that he was so busy defending the ramparts that he couldn't get down there to help Ragnar, Ax and the others. He hoped that they were up to the challenge.

The thief's thoughts were interrupted when a thunderous roar shook the very foundations of Vanna. He turned his eyes to the left and his heart skipped a beat. A gigantic demon at least 30 times the size of an ordinary demon was marching towards the city, each of its footsteps shaking the ground. He had never seen anything so huge in his life but he realized quickly enough what that monstrosity's purpose was: to punch the walls of Vanna in while the defenders below were busy dealing with Chaos Dwarves.

Khalid, who fought next to Refan, gasped. "By the beard of Tronin! You've got to be kidding me! How can we take down a monster of that size?"

"I have no idea, but we have to think of something soon unless we want it to destroy the city in its wake," Refan replied. "I just hope our friends below can defeat those Chaos Dwarves in time and lend us a hand!"

[Dark Messenger]

Ragnar spun and rammed Gorgoleon into a demon's midriff, ducked under a swing from a haggard looking man and pulled the blade out in a bright arc of arterial spray. All around him the Blades of Lysse were fighting bravely but they were being hard pressed by the seemingly unending horde.
Ragnar rolled away from the man and swept Gorgoleon up in a short swing, catching him under the chin and sending him flying back into the hole.
The warriors around him were dying one by one as the magic shield started wearing off and the horde's superior numbers began to tell.

A brief moment of calm felt like an age to Ragnar as he glanced up at the ramparts and saw Refan, a regal looking swordsman and the Sarquil - who he could only assume was the new sultan Al-Saif. They were still strong, holding the ramparts easily although other parts of the wall were being swamped.

Sal crashed onto his back next to Ragnar, a demon impaled on the end of his spear, spitting curses and dust. Ragnar knelt and helped the big man to his feet as unfamiliar warriors rushed past them to join the fray.
"Who're you guys?" Sal shouted in confusion.
One man turned and called back "We're the Blades! We were ordered here right?"

Before anyone could say anything else a terrifying shriek echoed around the walls, making Ragnar start looking around expecting some horror from the bowels of hell to appear. Even the attacking horde paused, looking wild-eyed.
"Gods preserve us!" Sal muttered "that chilled me to the bone!"

Behind the Blades at the breach a sergeant of the Black Guard was organising a makeshift barricade and getting ready to push it in front of the hole.
"You men - slot those support beams behind the screen! Aziz, get your section lined up properly! Wait until..." he went silent as he saw the sky fill with angry dwarves. Aziz saw where the sergeant was looking and went wide-eyed with surprise. He gathered his wits enough to yell a warning just before the deadly "rain" fell on the defenders.

All hell broke loose.

Ragnar panted as he fought full force.
If I let up for even a moment, I'm dead meat! he thought frantically as Gorgoleon formed a narrow ribbon of steel around him. That ribbon, he sensed, was his lifeline - if it broke, his life would follow it.
Suddenly Ragnar felt a tug at the back of his mind and he cried out in pain. Then a second tug harder than the first and a feeling of dread swept over him. The runes on Gorgoleon blazed and now Ragnar no longer felt in control of his own actions, his mind had gone numb.

What's going on! his mind screamed but no sound passed his lips.
His arm rose and fell of its own accord, blocking a thrust and countering viciously. Before Ragnar could even register the kill, the blade jerked sideways splitting a demon's belly then dragging him forward two steps. Ragnar felt his back bend and watched an axe swoop through the space where his neck was a heartbeat ago. Pulled upright like a puppet, Ragnar kicked an elf in the knee, sending him sprawling before Gorgoleon stabbed down, pinning him. A woman in leather armor scored her knife blade along Ragnar's vambrace then across his arm, drawing blood. Ragnar made no sound as the sword flew out of the dead elf and the pommel smashed her in the face.
A blow clanged into his breastplate and knocked Ragnar backward into Sal and a pair of Sarquil.

"Ragnar! What are you doing? You'll get yourself killed - pull yourself together man!" Sal roared.
Ragnar felt the blade twitch in his hand and launch itself at Sal, who slapped it aside barely a finger's breadth from his face. Gorgoleon twitched again and swung at an approaching demon, slashing open its throat before again stabbing at Sal. The Sarquil pinned Ragnar's arms and held him back.

Ragnar felt like a caged animal inside his own head. A deep bloodlust was coming from inside him... no, not him.... Gorgoleon! He looked at the blade with horror filled eyes and saw the runes glowing blood-red, burning like fire inside his mind.

All he wanted to do was kill! Revel in the glorious bloodshed! Cut open whatever was nearest and watch it bleed - himself, that big man, the demons... it mattered not as long as the dark thirst was quenched...

No. That wasn't him. There was another presence in his mind; ancient, malicious, hungry for blood and battle.

Sooo thirsty... So very, very thirsty. There was enough blood here to be had - slake the thirst with the blood of battle. Kill, Kill, KILL!!

"NO!" Ragnar screamed and gasped as the dread feeling left him in a rush of cold sweat.
The Sarquil dragged Ragnar aside as the Guard sergeant and his men pushed the barricade forward, plugging the gap.



The Dominator trudged toward the city, shrugging off the arrows and spears aimed at it. The red horde parted around it like a river, closing ranks behind as it passed them.
It noticed a glimmer on the near horizon behind the demon horde and turned its head, seeking out the source.
Fifty armoured horsemen were galloping hard for the demon siege engines, intent on helping the city any way they could. They were led by a compactly built man with greying hair and a large scar on his right cheek.
One of Sal's aides on the wall spotted the horsemen with his looking glass and gave a piercing whistle to Sal.
Sal's ears picked up the signal and he smiled despite the chaos around them. "It's about bloody time you got here Garrel."

Lieutenant commander Garrel Isen rode at the head of fifty Aisonian knights - those he'd managed to persuade to join the Blades of Lysse. Now they were up close, he could see the horde was truly a numberless host.
He'd fought many difficult battles several times before in his career as a soldier - but this was going to be something else.
The dusty ground flew by under the pounding hooves of the horses and the rush of air was almost deafening. Garrel pulled on his helm and readied his weapon as the demon rearguard reacted to their charge.

"FOR VANNA!" he roared.



OOC: If there are no knights in Aison (or anywhere else), I'll amend the post.

[Kossage]

"Push forward! They won't last much longer!" Nobuo Iwasaki shouted as the second legion rushed at the gap in the wall again and again.

The mages did their best to weaken the walls around the gap and the Dominator would soon begin its work on a nearby area, so it was only a matter of time before the horde would break into the city. Even the surprise attack from that new enemy cavalry wouldn't change the outcome of this battle anymore.

As the legion was about to push through, the ground began shaking violently and suddenly <i>swallowed</i> many soldiers whole. Before the demons realized what had happened, dozens of lizardmen emerged from the holes in the sand, skewering nearby enemies with their spears while roaring ferociously.

Iwasaki blinked as he realized what was going on. His hesitation didn't last long, though. "Don't stop, warriors of the horde! Human or not, these fools will die by the sword! Vanna will be ours before nightfall!"

#

"Sirithai? How can this be?" Refan yelled from the ramparts as he saw these scaly allies of the Alliance advancing on the enemy legion. "Our messenger left to your nest not long ago. We weren't expecting you to bring back reinforcements until a few days later!"

"It wasn't our doing!" a lizardman hissed. "Our new companions' spells reduced our travelling time considerably."

"New companions? What're you talking about?" Refan muttered. He stopped when he heard the distinct sound of a horn in the distance. Its familiar call sent shivers down his spine: he hadn't heard that ominous tone since the Great War.

At that exact moment a large group of armored riders appeared atop a nearby dune. Their leader, who was distinguishable thanks to a horned helmet, fierce mask and wide shoulder pads, drew out his katana and led his samurai towards the section of the wall where the Aisonian knights were already engaging the horde in combat.

"For Takamoto-sama and the glory of Yamato!" the samurai cried as his unit crashed into the enemy's open flank, tearing through opposition with deadly precision. Red-cloaked mages followed behind them, blasting enemies left and right with their deadly spells.

The sudden appearances of these Aisonian and Yamatian cavalries, the Sirithai and the red-cloaked mages were enough to throw the remnants of the enemy's second legion into disarray. The slave warriors panicked and fled back to the safety of the horde's main force, and Iwasaki was forced to flee with them.

Khalid blinked as he saw Vanna's old enemies fighting against the horde to save the city. "Yamatians and clerics of Mardük? But weren't they working for the Northern Horde? Why are they suddenly helping us? It makes no sense..."

The leader of the samurai rode towards the wall, killing off a few imps that had remained behind. "We'll leave introductions for later! We have to slay that demon colossus first!" he shouted, pointing at the advancing Dominator.

"Well, it doesn't hurt to have a helping hand. I dunno who those two cavalry units are, but I sure am glad to see 'em here," Refan said and forced a smile on his nervous face. "I've heard that the bigger your enemies are, the harder they'll fall. I think it's time to find out if such a saying is actually true!"

Still, the thief couldn't help but wonder how exactly they were going to defeat the demon colossus even if they now had a bunch of new allies aiding them.

[Kossage]

While the workers of Alent were busy repairing the damage caused by the recent duel of the mages on the main street, two cloaked figures slipped from the crowd and quickly descended into the mysterious catacombs beneath the city.

The duo navigated through the eerie corridors which Alentians were forbidden to enter. After a long walk they reached the heart of this maze and met a masked, yellow-robed figure. The smell of garlic in the room was nauseating.

A grey-cloaked traveller lowered his hood, revealing a boyish face. "We were instructed to come here. Are you the one they call Kamen Grimgaze, the Master of the Totenkopf cult?"

"There has been a slight change of plans. The one you seek can't be with us today because he's busy elsewhere. I had a mind-chat with him earlier, and he asked me to be your liaison during this meeting," the yellow-robed figure said with a raspy voice. "As for me, well... you may call me the Teacher."

"The Shadow informed me that I'd get my precious sword back if I met with this so-called Master," the grey-cloaked traveller stated. "The Totenkopfs stole the sword from me in the Ruined Kingdom, but they have no idea about the power they're dabbling with."

"Oh, but we do know all about the magic swords, High Prophet of Aison. Stealing your sword was only the beginning... consider it a cautionary step if you will. The second sword will fall into our hands soon, and it'll only be a matter of time before the other swords share the same fate," the Teacher hissed. "That isn't what we're here to discuss, though. The time has come for our friend to unlock his true potential!"

Shadowy tentacles suddenly pinned the grey-cloaked traveller to a nearby wall. "What's the meaning of this, Shadow?" he groaned, looking at his black-cloaked companion.

"He's been your servant for all these years and you've never figured out his true identity? I expected more from you, Xerathas. Allow me to rectify this," the Teacher said. "There is no Shadow. There is only... Taliesin!"

Xerathas blinked as he gazed into the glowing eyes of the Shadow. "Impossible. That man died a long time ago."

"When your father Zarnagon first summoned the Shadow to serve him, he actually brought back Taliesin from the Land of the Dead. Thanks to the Alliance's meddling in the Ruined Kingdom some time ago, the Shadow regained his memories and my agent was there to offer him a deal he couldn't refuse," the Teacher explained and cast a spell to paralyze Xerathas. "I'll require your services soon, High Prophet. Enjoy the hospitality of my dungeon until then."

Two Totenkopfs arrived and dragged Xerathas away.

The Teacher waved his hand at the Shadow. "Now then... allow me to restore your true self." The darkness surrounding the black-cloaked figure melted away, revealing a tall and dark man in white robes. "Welcome back, Taliesin, Lord of the Andain!"

Taliesin touched his reformed face, his fingers moving nostalgically on his black beard. "I'm still a mere shade and my magic is hardly what it used to be. As long as Xerathas's geas affects me, I'll never be whole."

The Teacher chuckled. "We'll deal with that later. Right now there are other matters that require our attention. Your old student, Leon Alcibiates, is in this city. Perhaps you'd like to pay him a visit?"

"Alcibiates? So he's come back to life. I'll seek him out later," Taliesin muttered. "There must be something you want from me in return?"

The Teacher lowered his voice. "Actually, this concerns you too. The world is on the brink of destruction. The descendants of Kagetsu Aurelac and Arawn Losstarot are at war, and they'll destroy everything in their wake. Not only that, but the Godslayer of Aison threatens the very existence of gods, having already consumed the gods of Order and Chaos. These abominations must be stopped or everything you and I have fought for will have been in vain!"

Taliesin clenched his fists. "Aurelac and Losstarot... they caused the Explosion which nearly destroyed the world. The very existence of their descendants is intolerable! And I sense it too... Cardia and Mardük are no more. Without their divine guidance the world will fall apart... mortals aren't ready to deal with this burden... we can't let any more gods fall..."

"There might be a way to end this madness," the Teacher said. "My student, the one known as the Master, sent his minions to assassinate the two Losstarots, but they failed. Now that you're here in the flesh, perhaps we can try a different strategy. But for that we need the blood of a Losstarot and your wisdom, Taliesin... it's only a flicker of hope, but it should be enough to restore the balance and bring back the old order. Now, listen to my plan..."

[The Last Oath]

A mixture of happiness, surprise and confusion engulfed Briss's face as he saw Tiyana walk toward him. As she got closer, he became puzzled at the buldge in her stomach.

"..Tiyana?" Briss asked. Smiling, Tiyana nodded, rubbing her one hand over her curve. "I think it is almost time."

The puzzle pieced itself in Briss's head and it showed on his face as he realised that Tiyana was soon to have his child. He didnt know what to feel or think, but he met Tiyana's face with a glad grin, "Its been that long huh." He said.

"Yes." Tiyana replied, "A lot has happened for me.." The elf motioned toward her escort, Lirado. "This is Lirado, Briss. And this is Briss, Lirado." The two nodded at each other and Briss continued, taking her hand, "I need to hear what happened after I left, with Sajon, everything." Tiyana nodded opening her mouth to start there and then but the strong voice of Lirado intervened-

"Now now, we are due for appointment with her majesty. Mr Briss, if you would, come by the witch elves tavern-inn this evening where we are staying." Briss looked from Tiyana to Lirado, then back to the elf carrying his child, "We shall meet up tonight then, we both have a lot of questions."

The reunited duo embraced and parted, with a genuine smile on eithers face. Despite the heavyness surronding him the past months, there was now a warmth Briss could feel inside.

###

The amount of time passed was unknown, but the feared leader of the Nightstalkers, Nivek Cheavin, knew it was time to begin operations again. After the climatic battle with the Mathesons that those in Maar Sul were calling the Maar Sul Gang War, everything stopped. He himself had ordered it, too much publicity - and the advantages of working in secrecy are dispelled.

"Besides," Nivek had said to the inner circle. "Our work has its foundation in secrecy." And now, he would pick up where the Mathesons left off. Koryaksky was killed during the battle, either by SAVAGE, that mysterious skull-masked clan, the Nightstalkers, nobody knew, but it did not matter, it only meant for Nivek that business, was looking good.

[Aerith's knight]

Harrad sighed as he and the Allience group walked out of the council chambers.

"inaction is fuel for the enemy.", he breathed sadly as he strode before the the group.

"It would be my honour to let you rest in my chamber while you make up your mind. The guest quarters are not what they used to be.", Harrad smiled as he gestured down the hall. The Alentian paladins had taken the prisoners away and most of the blades had stayed outside, but whatever remained of the group followed.

"What will be done about the war in Vanna?", Waldheim asked tentatively.

"That depends on your answer to Lord Jemuel's request.", Harrad said as they walked, "But I will make sure you not leave alone."

"You seem different from the rest of the council."

"Ah, yes. As you can see, I'm quite ancient. I've been in the council for a majority of my days and while my mind is intact they can't quite throw me out, someone who's been there longer than they have. But in the day to day decisions I'm no longer required. They still ask my opinion on important subjects, but you could call me more of an ambassador these days. Ah, here we are.", Harrad said as they stopped in front of a blank piece of wall.

"I upgraded the security a bit.", Harrad chuckled, "Aperi."

A line appeared in the wall and a door slid open with a sound of sliding stone.

"You use a very ancient form of magic.", Walheim notices.

"Ah yes, more of a habit than necessity, I suppose. Do come in."

As the group piled into the large room, they stared at the many trinkets, machines and alchemy equipment.

"Oh, I don't mind you looking at them, but could you refrain from-"

*crash*

"-touching the machinery.", sighed Harrad. He really should learn to speak faster.

"My bad.", Lucky said as he threw his hands in the air. Unfortunatly, there was still something in it.

*crash*

"...Uh, still me.", Lucky grinned.

"Just make yourselves comfortable.", Harrad sighed once more as the group started walking around, looking at the equipment, the sitting room forgotten. Harrad himself walked towards his favorite machine, grabbed a small piece and put it in his mouth.

"Still too much like Puru frui-...", Harrad voice thinned as he looked right at the open window. With a flick of his hand, the window closed with a smack, and the people looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"I.. have some business.. I will check up on you in a little while, do try to get to a decision.", Harrad breathed as he rushed from the room. In the hallway, he paused against a wall. the events of the last few days really began to sank in.

"Master U'niviel?", a bright young voice boomed through the walls. As Harrad looked up he saw young eyes looking expectantly. She wore the robes of an apprentice.

"Can I help you?", Harrad said as he dreaded the answer.

"I'm Lynnea Stargazer. I'm the new apprentice assigned to you. Didn't Master Omaroch mention this?", she said a little more forcibly.

"...Perhaps. Very well, call me Harrad. I think it is best if-"

"Are you tired, master Harrad?"

"Well, perhaps a li-"

"We should get you to bed."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, let's go.", Lynnea said strongly as she pushed the old man in the back.

"But I-"

--5 minutes later--

Harrad was sitting in a comfy chair by a window overlooking the city. a drink was sitting next to him and soft music echoed through the room.

"What... just happened?", he remarked to himself as he saw a small piece of white paper under the cushion of the chair. When he read it he smiled to himself and let the paper fly out of the window into the wind.

The paper read but a sentence and a signature.

She's your problem now, old man.

-Omaroch

[Kossage]

Although the enemy legion had retreated for now and the defenders of Vanna had gained valuable allies from Aison and Yamato, the Dominator continued its rampage as if nothing had changed. The demon colossus hammered at the walls of Vanna while the defenders' desperate attacks seemed to have no effect on it.

"That thing has to have a weak spot!" Refan grimaced while he did his best to avoid getting squashed. When he saw Marcus, he suddenly remembered something from their earlier battle. "Didn't you once say that Dawn was especially effective against the minions of War and Dusk against creatures aligned with Chaos? Wouldn't that mean--"

The King of Remon flashed a smile. "That's right! These demons are essentially servants of Mardük, the God of Chaos, or at least they draw power from him!" he replied, gripping the hilt of Dusk. "Do you think our forces can distract the beast long enough so that I can climb onto its head? Perhaps if I try to access my blade's power then, I might be able to blind the beast. If Ax had Dawn, this would be a lot easier."

"It's worth a try!" Refan shouted and turned to look at where Ax, Ragnar and various Blades were fighting. "Our esteemed king has a crazy plan as usual, but it might let us slay this beast! Do you think you guys could help us? We'd need a bunch of warriors and mages over here to distract the beast while Marcus figures out how to reach its head!"

#

Khasra was about to sit down when he suddenly noticed Josiah on the sofa. "Fack!" he gasped with his Scun vernacular. "Why must you mages teleport and startle decent people when you could simply use doors?"

The people in the room looked at each other, but Leon smiled reassuringly. "You may think what you want about the council, but Josiah can be trusted. He's an old friend."

"I wanted to talk to you all before you made your decision," Josiah said while petting Artagel, his cat familiar. "I sympathize with your plight. I'll try to let my colleagues at the Magestar know about your quest, and perhaps they can provide additional notes about the Blood Fever. The knowledge in Alent is vast, but perhaps our archives in Aison hold additional info about the plague."

"Why would you do this for us while the council wasn't so supportive?" Waldheim asked. "If someone like Trittledin hears about you helping us, he might--"

Josiah smiled. "There are several reasons. First, I want to pay back for what your friends have done. Marcus Sarillius helped drive out the agents of Nergal and unconver a conspiracy in the Magestar before he became the King of Remon. Without him Aison's fate would've turned out much worse. Second, I came here to seek help from Jemuel as well. The Grey Cult is besieging the Magestar, and I haven't heard from my colleagues in a while. Should you succeed in your mission, perhaps you could consider an alliance with Alent and in turn help us save the Magestar?"

"There are many things at stake, Master Amdusias. We'll have to concentrate on one problem at a time," Khasra noted. "I'm afraid the Magestar has to wait a little longer."

Josiah nodded. "I understand. There's also a third reason: if the demons are on the move, it's imperative that the wielders of Dusk and Dawn be saved. I think there's a way to unlock the blades' true potential... but if the blades are lost, I fear the demons will taint them into instruments of darkness. That mustn't happen. I ask you to travel to Vanna first to save your comrades and the wielders of the blades. Glaurung can wait until our forces are whole again." He looked around. "Anyway, I must return to the council chambers. Please do what you feel is right, my friends. That's all I ask of you." He teleported away.

"Well, in any case I'll stay here. If Josiah can gain access to the vast knowledge within the Magestar, I want to study his reports. And if Harrad can give me some notes as well, all the better," Waldheim said. "Besides, I'm getting too old for travelling from place to place. I need to rest my old joints for a while."

"It's unfortunate to leave you here, Lord Waldheim. Your wisdom would be a great asset to us," Rhylian muttered.

The elder mage smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, my lady. I'm more useful studying the reports than trying to keep up with you youngsters. I'll be waiting here for your most glorious return."

Leon sighed. "In any case the mages will be waiting for us at Kite's inn and teleport us to whatever destination we want to go. All we have to do now is to choose which path we'll follow. So, which way is it?"

[Matthew]

Azriel could feel Tronin's spirit directing him toward the colossus. Believing in Tronin, and his newfound abilities, he followed without hesitation. A small group of bodyguards appointed from Khalid's own personal entourage followed slowly behind, but they were unprepared when the cleric passed through the defenders and leapt onto the wall itself. Swift movements with his mace destroyed oncoming projectiles, and he bellowed an order for the men behind to protect him.

With that done he finally took in the beast, an armored goliath with embers for eyes, and cries that shook the very earth. No physical blow could get through its skin, much less the armor covering it. But Tronin had given Azriel many gifts beyond the physical. With a smirk, Azriel tossed his weapon into the creature's face to get its attention. He was greeted by it's monstrous cry, interrupted by a moment of doubt from the beast. The creature sniffed in Azriel's direction, sensing something of his power. Familiarity or fear, it didn't matter. Their eyes locked and both were still.

And Azriel found himself in the mind of the beast. Compared to Azriel's own ethereal form, the beast's was an entire world of fearful shadow and lightless flame. Earlier he had thought this would be the perfect battlefield to get the edge, but he had not reckoned one so mindless could still be so powerful here. A roar accompanied a jolt of pain throughout his entire body, the creature psychically raking at this intruder in his mindspace. Azriel's concept of time was lost as the pain clouded his thoughts, making itself the only thing he could think about. Just as he was sure he could go on no longer, Tronin whispered into his ear, and light poured from Azriel into the darkness, eliciting screams from the enemy.

Meanwhile, their bodies remained stunned and staring into one another's eyes. The enormous siege creature was subdued, but at the price of a defenseless Azriel standing on the wall waiting to be picked off. There wouldn't be much time.

[Matthew]

The room was pleasant enough, but Jono could still not shake his feelings of dread. Sitting on the bed he tried to will the fear away, but it clouded his senses in an almost physical miasma. After a while he started hearing a distant, yet familiar voice. With horror, he realized it was his father.

"Well, we meet again, you useless bag of shit," he said.

"You're dead," Jono said. More a casual clarification than a horrified exclamation.

"And you don't speak to the dead anymore."

"Not for a while, no."

"So what can this mean?"

"I'm either insane, or dead myself."

"You're not insane." Jono shivered at this, and his father continued. "And you're not dead."

"So if I'm not insane or dead... A drug? Am I hallucinating?"

"You were conversing with the spirit world long enough to know if you're only talking to yourself, dumbass."

"... Wait, a drug, that's it!"

Jono promptly stripped and began searching his body. Eventually he found what he was looking for, a chitin needle sticking out of his side. He pulled it out and sniffed the end, a perfume odor overwhelming his sense of smell momentarily.

"Drugged."

"Hell of a drug if it makes you talk to dead people."

"Hell is an appropriate choice of words, considering a demon shot me with this at some point after we entered Trinity Gask."

"And what demon would have been able to put that in you without you even feeling it?"

"A very good one. I'd heard... There's a type of demon that produces a special toxin called Dyseuphor. Other demons just use it to get high, but in humans..."

"Debilitating shock to all the senses, plus an uncomfortable immersion into the spirit world?"

"Yes. You know, uh, dad, you're a bit more helpful than you used to be."

"Well, had a lot of time to think. I guess I could have been nicer to you growing up. Plus, no booze over here."

"Um... Wow."

"Don't be a dick."

"Fine, but, you see, I might need a little more help if I can't trust all my senses right now. And as long as you're here..."

"Give them an inch... Oh, fine."

"Thanks, because I've just realized that of the type of demon that produces Dyseuphor, I know of only one who pals around with a Fourcite mercenary family."

"And who would that be?"

"Saleos."

"And who would THAT be?"

"Mean sonuvabitch with a reputation for collecting bounties on rebel heads."

Jono started to dress, and pondered whether he should tell Vaetris to just run for her life.

[Matthew]

Anya would have done anything for her mistress, much more wicked, and dangerous, and perverse things than simply sneaking into this thieves hideout under Maar Sul City. It wasn't even hard with mistress' spells camouflaging her appearance and sounds. Soon she was in Nivek's quarters, dispelled and lying in his bed naked in the dark. When someone finally entered she didn't even think to inhale nervously, just laid still as Nivek lit a lamp and realized his bed was occupied. A knife was instantly at Anya's throat, but she just leaned in to nick her own throat, a moan escaping her perfect lips.

Nivek looked down and saw the covers fall from the girl's bare breasts. She was young, with long black hair and curves to write home about. Scars littered the landscape of her body, though, like a tally, and Nivek could easily see the fanaticism in her big brown eyes.

"And who would you be?"

"My mistress Etna sends me to see if the pretty thief boy would like to be friends."

"Friends? You know people are saying I killed her brother."

"She knows who really is responsible for her brother's death..."

"And what are her plans for this alliance?"

"She has it on good authority that events in Jardine shall soon wrestle it from her brothers' grasp... You and she will take advantage of the chaos."

"So, I tell you my answer and you leave my secret base with the knowledge of it to tell the whole of Maar Sul?"

"Oh, I'm not to leave. She'll know as soon as you make the decision."

"Then what do I do with you?"

The slave smiled, and removed the rest of the covers.

"Whatever you want."

[Matthew]

Galeras, lovely bride following behind, greeted the people of Jardine once more. His absence was necessitated by his half-brother's funeral, and had cut into his brilliant shore leave in his new city. And god, of course his trip home had to involve so goddamn much work.

That toady Rafe had been promoted for his part in the Maar Sul City gang war, so when Vesuvius brought up that an ally in MSC needed a hit performed, Galeras assigned the new golden boy. Other matters of just as much murder and secrecy were dealt with, and he bid Etna and Vesuvius a quick farewell.

Amarawyn had been rather quiet the whole time, which was as far he was concerned a good thing. It was bad enough having to drag her around to keep appearances. He didn't need her constant whining to have continued any longer.

After entering the pair separated, each to their own little worlds. One a playground, the other a prison. Galeras fantasized about the day when enough time had passed, and he could simply have the little shrew murdered. It was a shame the people loved her so much.

[Kossage]

"It's good to stand on Maar Sulais soil again!" King Gerard Aurelac of Maar Sul sighed as he disembarked at the port of Jardine. "I wonder if Elena has missed me. I've been gone for an awfully long time..."

"I'm sure she'll be happy to see you. I too have a wife and son waiting for me in the capital," Despard Silverbranch said while he limped forward. The injuries he had received in the battle of Vanna hadn't healed completely yet. He moved his hand on the hilt of his sword when he noticed a grim-looking man hurrying towards them.

The man stopped in front of the duo. "This isn't right! You shouldn't be here right now!" he muttered. "We have to get you two out of here before anyone sees you."

"What are you babbling about?" Despard asked. His eyes narrowed when he noticed the man wearing a silver bracelet. "I've seen that thing before. Are you... working for the Blades of Vigilance?"

The man nodded. "Yeah, but keep your voice down! There are only a handful of us Blades here, and I can't afford to blow my cover!" he hissed. "I'll explain everything later. Right now we have to get into our warehouse where we'll be safe from spies. I hope no one's spotted your kingly companion yet or we'll have dozens of Galeras's thugs after us!"

#

"So, let me get this straight. Amarawyn Jardine, the rightful ruler of this city, is held a prisoner by his husband Galeras who is a member of the Matheson family?" Adram muttered once the disguised agent of the Blades of Vigilance had delivered his report. They were standing at the central plaza of the city of Jardine where many merchants were selling their wares.

"Yes. Commander Redfield gave Lady Amarawyn a hollow coin which could be used for smuggling letters out. She instructed her to buy a red rose with that coin if she ever needed our help," the agent said and gave Amarawyn's letter to Shyralis. "Our manpower has been lacking since Galeras's thugs appeared in the city and blocked communication with the Alliance, so we could really use your group's magic and steel. If we can infiltrate the manor somehow and save Lady Amarawyn from immediate danger, she should be able to rally support and depose Galeras."

Shyralis glanced at the letter, frowning. "That girl's troubles are none of our concern. We're on our way to Maar Sul City, and Jardine is simply a detour for us."

The agent frowned. "With all due respect, my lady, this problem does concern your group too. Once the Mathesons find out that you, King Marcus's advisor, are here, they'll do everything in their power to capture you. The city's full of cutthroats and spies who work for the crime family, so we can only hide you for so long before someone reports you in. If you leave the city, it won't take long before the thugs track you down."

Izael sighed. "So that means we'll have to save Amarawyn and deal with this Galeras fellow before we can continue our journey. Do you have a layout of the manor or anything we could use?"

"Yes, we still have the maps which Commander Keiran used to enter and liberate the city from a Proninist regiment before she left for Libaterra. My comrade has the maps in a warehouse at the docks. You'll recognize him from a silver bracelet which all Blades operatives wear. You'll find me here if you need anything else."

"I suppose we should get moving," Skye said quietly, holding her son Gabriel's hand. "The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can continue our journey, right?"

[Dignified Pauper]

Nymgrock and Swenson had arrived back in Maar Sul City. Their arrival stirred up a little commotion. Nymgrock had teleported into the center square of the city, and they weren't used to outsiders just teleporting in like that. But, they seemed peaceful, and so, the folks just gossiped about themselves. They quickly found an inn to rest, and began trying to figure out where they would go from here. Marcus had to be found.

----------------

Prescott A. Banks, formerly Dylas Rin Theron, stood before Amandil and the Elven Council of Sanae.

"You, human, fit the description of Dylas Rin Theron by all of our scouts. Sarnith has identified you from the meeting in Remonton when Marcus Sarillius had come back. Yes, you do seem authentic." Arek stated. Arek already knew that this man was Dylas from his dealings with Nymgrock previously.

"I know my presence here comes at a shock. I believe much of this is my doing. But, I am throwing it behind me. Dylas Rin Theron is no more. I have no recollection of him, and the only thing I know is that my name, I feel, is Prescott. I feel as if this was always my name. I don't know what attrocities I have committed, but I know that they are unforgivable. I ask for your leniency. I wish to help Sanae and make amends for my wrongs. I renounce what happened previously. I wish only for the unity of Remon and all
it's people." Prescott stated somberly.

Amandil let out a long breath. "Human, Prescott, you are allowed to stay in this city, but your actions will be under close scrutiny. You will be guarded and watched at all times, for our and your safety."

Prescott nodded and was escorted away.

---------------

[Aerith's knight]

A gloomy figure stood upon the beach, watching the sunset. Unmoving, but with a standing of utter indifference. A few birds flew high above, but the scenery more or less stayed the same of nearly an hour.

Then the winds changed, the sky crackled, and a bolt of lightning hit just far away enough for the figure not to feel the shock. The figure didn't move away, just stood there, waiting for the inevitable. Two figures stood there, one looked like a fisherman, the other a teenage girl. But again not. They weren't the ones in control.

"Where is she?", the fisherman said, a flash of light in his eyes.

"No hello?", the figure said, grinning.

"Tell us where she is, you disgusting half-elf.", the teenage girl spat.

"If only 't were so simple.", Nesa said as he unsheathed his sword.

"You have no chance of winning.", the fisherman said reasonably, but with thinning patience.

"I know."

"Very well...", the fisherman replied, moving with agility far beyond his physique.

"....Let's play.", Nesa dodged several punches from the would be fisherman, throwing up a shield against a bolt of lightning thrown by the girl, shattering it and throwing him 20 feet away.

"I'm going to make you suffer", the glowing girl said as a ring of fire appeared around Nesa, closing in fast.

Nesa propelled himself along an expanding shield and took several swipes at the fisherman, locked in a parry of sword against fist, each narrowly dodging each other.

"Got you.", Nesa said as he faked a parry and slashed at the fisherman, only to be stopped by an arm. Just an arm, the hardened steel not even making a dent in the flesh. This was followed by the fisherman breaking the sword in two, swiping at several points on Nesa's body, bones cracking in its wake.

"You forget your place.", the fisherman said coldly as Nesa lay on the ground, coughing blood.

"My place is right here, between you and her, for now."

"What do you mean?"

"Forget this pathetic mortal., the girl said angrily as she grabbed the broken body and pulled it up with inhuman strength, "You tell us where she is and I will end your suffering."

"Yes and no."

"What did you say?", she said as she almost lovingly burned a trail into his cheek.

"She's beyond the ridge on your far left, by the forest..."

The fisherman and girl shared a look of surprise, as there was no lie in his eyes.

"...and you can't end my suffering, because I'm not really here.", Nesa laughed as his body turned to wisps of smoke and wind, only the broken sword remaining in the white sand.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Nesa came out of his trance, and all the shackles broke. His body and mind were his again. A pregnant woman lay on the ground next to him, her eyes watering with fear and anger.

"...Why? How?"

"The how is simple. As the birth progressed, you have become weaker and weaker, the magic act was draining you further until the point where I could break free of the chains you put on me. Before I answer the why, you tell me why me? Why toy with me?", Nesa nearly shouted with cold rage.

"I was entrusted to destroy all the scrolls about the Adain, and I found a page.... The gods are forbidden to mate with mortals, and safeguards have been put into place, safeguards that would cause internal cohesion within the child's cells to be destroyed, a rupture of all cell membranes, symptoms not unlike those with.. blood fever. As one afflicted with the same symptoms, you are the only one who knows how to treat it that is compatible.", Hivena said, almost scared. She was growing weaker and the birth neared.

"Why go through all the trouble, you treated my illness just fine!?", Nesa now screamed in earnest, freedom forcing emotions to the surface.

"After I give birth, I will be weak, too weak to cure the child. If you save her, then our child can survive."

"WHY?"

"After the ritual we preformed, even after all the safeguards put into place, this Andain child will be able to cross into the Higher plane. I can posses her, like the others have done already, and enter the higher plane stronger than any god that can still oppose me.", Hivena said with a fierce look. There was still some pride left in her.

"Power... I could've known.", Nesa sighed and his look turned to steel.

"Please.. AAARGH" *puff*, Hivena screamed as the child head started to crown.

"Goodbye Hivena, I'm not your puppet anymore. I have my own destiny, and I've wasted enough time away from her."

"Please..", Hivena pleaded with teary eyes as Nesa walked away and disappeared.

"You were more to me..., she cried as the baby girl was born into the world.

But there was no sound to disturb the night sky.

Two figures, a fisherman and a teenage girl, approached the spot where a golden haired woman was crying, holding a small child wrapped in her clothes. They looked without mercy, there would be no sympathy that day.

"You've been a naughty girl, Hivena.", Artemicia grinned.

"We will not make this mistake again. You won't see light for another millennium.", Hephaestus said coldly.

"So be the judgment."

"So be it."

The sounds of sobbing disappeared from the forest, and all was quiet again. Two chipmunks saw it all, but nobody cared.

[Matthew]

Councilor Trittledin eased into the warm bath, sighing pleasurably as his nethers were submerged. When he was comfortable he answered the knock.

"You may enter."

Ned was dressed in purple and white robes with gilded trim, and carrying several scrolls, a vile of ink, and a quill pen. Walking briskly to the tub, he didn't look down.

"Your paperwork, sir. I've already looked over it, all that's required is your signature."

The overweight councilor smiled. He may be a fey piece of trash, but the boy was a great secretary. He accepted the quill, and Ned set the vile on the edge of the tub for dipping, and passed the scrolls one at a time. When all were signed he collected everything again.

"I heard about your troubles with the Alliance rats, milord."

"Yes, the fact that we do anything but show them out of our city shows how foolish my peers in the Council are."

"You're wise, sir, I've heard... No, it isn't my place to say."

"Speak freely, elf. I'll have no secrets from my staff."

"It's just, I hear such rumors. They had Hannibal Losstarot, but he's been conveniently lost and returned to his mother. There are demons in their armies, even as they tell us they need help to fight them..."

"Duplicitous swine, probably plotting with our enemies against us."

"Do you think so, milord? Surely that's too horrible to imagine..."

Trittledin stroked his jowly chin, and a thought came to him suddenly. What if the Alliance is jealous enough of Alent's magicks to ally itself with the Coalition and the Demon Hordes?

He soon motioned for Ned to leave, and the young elf did so quickly. Dusty was right, this guy was pretty damn easy to manipulate.

[Dignified Pauper]

One does shirk their duties when they are rested in such respite. Prescott sat in the abandoned home, now officially assigned to him as a refugee, pondering his role. Over the hours, he had spoke with others, citizens and former Ravens, gathering information about their praise of him. He felt as though he were a powerful man, uniting the country for peace against a tirade of politics.

The people told him of Amon and he cried.

The people told him of Nymgrock and he sighed.

It was all so much information. The death of his brother at the hands of bandits; the traitorous elf who tried to usurp his power. He vowed to make things right to the people. He wore his classic smile of prosperity. A former steward, now a refugee, he would forego the name "Dylas Rin Theron" and would become "Prescott A. Banks" a civilian for reform.

----------------------

"What will we do now, Nym? Think we'll find the King?"

"Wha-?" Nymgrock's thoughts were interrupted by Swenson. "Ah, yes, Marcus. We'd have to know where he was. I haven't the faintest idea, nor do I really understand why we came to Maar Suul city. I think finding Shyralis might be our best bet."

"Isn't Captain Stevenson here too?"

Nymgrock had forgotten all about Captain Stevenson, who had been missing since the incident on his last excursion in Maar Suul City. He wondered what Stevenson must be up to.

--------------

Captain Stevenson was staying within the Maar Suul City palace as a guest of Remon. He had learned the truth about everything that had happened. Gloriana was a Tötenkopf, Marcus had gone East, and that there had been talk of Civil War in Remon. While gone, he had no idea what was going on, but knew he had to get back. However, news had yet to spread outside the Remon Borders of what had transpired. There were rumors, but the only talked of the nation being in ruins. No one knew it was not a festering pile of rotting zombies walking the lands.

--------------

[Nic]

"I'm glad to see you're well," Vaetris purred, her expert gaze trailing along the rows of blades on display in the small shop. "And glad to see your skill with the forge has not waned. I trust your skills in...<I>other</I> areas are still as sharply honed?"

The bearded man behind the counter grunted noncommittally. "Your men told me to expect you, though I would have appreciated more warning. But yes, we can start at sunset. I trust you know my fee."

Vaetris casually flashed a heavy bag of gold, then tucked it safely back in her pocket. "Of course. Just get us as far as the tunnels; I can make my own way from there."

"As you wish. I have some business to take care of, but I'll be there on time," the blacksmith said, before passing her a small packet of papers. "That should be all you need to know."

"Thank you, Jumahn."

The man said nothing. Vaetris waited for him to return to his work, but he did not.

Finally, eyes narrowed, she broke the silence. "Well, what?"

"Maybe it's not my place to ask," he said quietly, his expression kept carefully blank, "but what about your traveling companion?"

The slightest twinge of regret crossed Vaetris's features, but she brushed it away like a bothersome fly. "Jono can handle himself. Now, if you'll excuse me, I should go make sure everything's in order for tonight."

-----------------------------------

Ax stared. The monstrous creature had been stilled, for the moment...though she hadn't the fainted idea how. And standing on the wall, equally motionless, was Azriel. There was a connection there, she thought, though she was too distracted (or perhaps just too dumb) to figure it out.

Well. That could wait until later. This opportunity could not.

"Blades!" she bellowed, eyes frantically searching for her target. "Guard that man on the wall with your lives!"

Several soldiers scrambled forward, and she turned away, satisfied. Her eyes flashed as she found the one she was looking for and ran.

"Qadohi!" she cried, breathless. "How fast can your Sirithai tunnel?"

The Sirithai gave a low hiss. "Fast. Much faster with the help of these new allies."

Ax grinned. She turned and ran for the wall, motioning for Qadohi to follow. "Marcus, your plan sucks! I've got a better one!"

The blond man looked indignant, but Ax's attention was already elsewhere. She pointed her sword at the demon colossus. "I want to bring that <I>thing</I> down to our level, if you get where I'm going. Qadohi, can your people--"

"Of coursssse!" Qadohi hissed in understanding. A harsh scream in her native language, and a group of Sirithai instantly disappeared beneath the sand.

-----------------------------------

Shyralis sank back in her hood, doing her best to hide her distinctive features, muttering to herself as they neared the docks. "Preposterous, sneaking about like a criminal..."

Adram eyed her, half-wary, half-amused. "Something on your mind, my lady?"

"I just have to wonder," she huffed, crossing her arms, "how much of a <I>ruler</I> this brat was to begin with, if power was so easily wrested from her grasp. And by a common, cretinous thug, no less. From all I've heard, the Mathesons are nothing but inbred twits."

Adram sighed. "Best not to talk that way. You heard what he said: the city's filled with Matheson ears and eyes."

"See! Inbred, I tell you!"

"I...that wasn't quite what I meant," Adram muttered, covering his face with his palm. "Look, let's just get this over with. There's the warehouse he mentioned."

Shyralis glowered, but obediently fell in line as they walked the last few steps to the warehouse. Adram knocked four times as he'd been instructed to, and then a figure was at the door, ushering them in silently.

[Matthew]

Trinity Gask, a makeshift metropolis, crown jewel of the Crimson Coalition, testament to the ancient bloodline of the Losstarots. But all Jono could make of it was whispered sounds and hinted smells behind screams and brimstone. His senses were being dragged into the the demon realm to play, and he was slowly losing grip on what was around him.

"Watch out."

He bumped into something, man or woman he couldn't tell. Dad was a bit useless as a spirit guide, but he might just need him to help find Vaetris or shout if there were demons.

"Why so silent?"

"Blind man stumbling around talking to himself, that will look really good."

"You used to get in screaming matches with me all the time in public."

"I've matured."

"For who?"

"For do your job, I think I just stepped on a cat."

This was madness. His usual alarm bells for a demonic presence were useless, because they were eternally going off as his senses rubbed up against the beasts and offal below. He was doing everything in his power not to run screaming for his life.

"Oh crap. See one of the one-eyed bastards."

"Well, thank god for that."

"What?"

"Nothing, just tell me which way to run."

"East."

And Jono finally let the fear take over and send him barreling through the crowd escaping an actual demon threat. Actually fooling himself that he was doing anything but delaying the inevitable.

[Kossage]

Tying up some loose ends.

"Before we go on yet another crazy adventure, I'll go take a piss. I've heard that Alent's... facilities are quite clean compared to Maar Sul's infamous Golden Lake," Koskenkorva chuckled and left the room.

Waldheim followed him. "You can easily lose yourself in this maze on your own, so I'll accompany you. Besides, my bladder isn't what it used to be..."

The men reached the toilets and went to separate rooms, closing the doors. Koskenkorva waited for a while and then cast a sleep spell. He smiled as he heard loud snoring moments later from the opposite room. The spell wouldn't last long so he had to act fast. The last thing he wanted was that the old fart found out his true identity.

Koskenkorva moved quickly through the corridors and located the stairs leading down to the dungeon. There were no guards: the mages' arrogance made his work all the more easier.

"Gwydion! Still keeping up false appearances?" came from the cell ahead.

"Don't call me that here, Orestes," Koskenkorva replied. "The Alentish might use eye-spies, and I don't want to blow my cover yet."

"They've done a good job locking us here," Orestes growled. "The cells have enchantments so the mages don't even need guards over here. There's no way we can break out without our equipment. And Rhys is ill." He pointed at a blond, pale elf who was coughing out blood on a bed.

"Blood Fever...magnificent, isn't it?" a sinister voice whispered from a shadowy corner all of a sudden. "It must be horrible to let the mages treat you as lab rats while they study its effects."

"That aura of death...you're a Totenkopf!" Donovan gasped. "Who are you, and what're you doing here?"

"You may call me the Master. Consider me your ticket out of here," the voice continued. "The Alliance and Jemuel are getting closer to reaching an agreement. We must tip the scales for our favour by disrupting their trust. Your skills are ideal for this mission because the Three can only do so much by themselves."

Koskenkorva grimaced. "The Three? That's classified information only meant for the inner circle! You have quite the nerve to show up and--"

"There's no time for arguments!" the Master hissed. "I can provide the means to help you escape and plot your revenge, but for that I need a sample of your elven companion's blood."

Orestes frowned. "Why?"

Two vials slid into the cell. "Just collect Rhys's blood in those. His illness shall lead to Jemuel's downfall." The Master turned to Koskenkorva. "I also need to access your memories..."

#

Varalia opened her eyes and sat up on her bed. The last thing she remembered clearly was a huge explosion on the tower of Vanna. She looked around slowly: she was in a white room with only one door and her bed. Nothing else. What kind of place was this and how long had she been unconscious?

She gasped when she noticed a figured cloaked in shadows. "What is this?"

"You may call me the Master," the figure said. "I woke you up from your slumber for a specific reason. You're imprisoned in Alent, the base of your cult's archenemies. Alent is already considering joining the Alliance and taking down the Godslayer whom they see as an abomination. Worst of all, they've taken care of the Shadow and imprisoned Xerathas. Look!"

An image of a chained Xerathas appeared for a moment before it vanished into thin air.

"My acquaintance has recently told me about the fate of your former lover, Hiroshi Takamoto, Shogun of the Akai Tora. I scanned his memories which showed how Takamoto wished to aid the Alliance and look how the Alliance rewarded him!"

A new image, this time about Leon Alcibiates and Despard Silverbranch attacking Takamoto in Vulpengaard Keep, appeared until it vanished as well.

"Why are you showing me all of this?" the elfess hissed, clenching her fists.

"Use the powers Nergal gave you and you'll sense that the images I showed you were real. Alent and the Alliance have brought misery to the men you so care about, but it doesn't end there. The Maar Sulais who attacked Hiroshi had been helping Alent, and Xerathas also fell prey to the Alliance's trickery on his way here. Both of these events were orchestrated by one man: Jemuel, Archmage of Alent!"

The image of Jemuel, who had a proud look in his calculating eyes, appeared in its full glory.

Varalia's eyes grew wide. "That man was working for Dante Albrigant during the Great War!" she gasped. "He sent his clone to befriend the Alliance and manipulated the Alliance to blow up the Libaterran reactor core! He was responsible for assassinating Distreyd Thanadar XII! He used both the Alliance and Yamato for his own gain, that wretched traitor!"

The Master nodded. "Indeed. Jemuel used his cunning to take over this city and build it anew. He attacked your precious Takamoto and currently plans to use Xerathas. There's no way to save either of those men unless..."

Varalia narrowed her eyes. "Go on."

"...unless <i>you</i> dispose of Jemuel and frame the Alliance for it. Jemuel has been recovering from an assassination attempt which happened not long ago and is weaker than usual," the Master said. "Once the Alliance's delegates leave, you must free the imprisoned Vulfsatz and strike with them against Jemuel. Once the driving force behind Alent is gone, the ensuing chaos will allow you to save Xerathas from the council's grasp."

"You mentioned something about framing the Alliance. How can it be done?" Varalia asked. She seethed with rage about how those damn Maar Sulais had hurt her beloved Hiroshi. They would pay as soon as Jemuel was dealt with.

"Not all Alliance members will travel with the others. The Vulfsatz will make sure that those who remain behind will be blamed for the assassination," the Master stated. "I shall help you acquire your armor and weapons, but we must wait for the right opportunity. Now... will you help me, or will you rot here as the mages' prisoner for the rest of your long life?"

The elfess nodded. "I'll do it. I have a score to settle with Jemuel anyway. By the way, won't the mages sense your presence while you're talking to me?"

"The council is occupied with something else at the moment and won't notice a thing. All you need to worry about is doing your job, and you'll get your revenge and save Xerathas from Jemuel's grip," the Master said and teleported away.

#

Waldheim yawned as he left the toilet and joined his companion on the hallway. "You look quite pale. Do you have diarrhea or something? If so, I could look for some medicine to--"

Koskenkorva rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Let's walk back to the others already!" He could hardly hide his excitement. The Master's plan had flaws like any plan but he couldn't deny that the Master had done extremely well so far. The only sad thing was that he couldn't stay in Alent to witness the Archmage's assassination.

"There you are. About time!" Ferron sighed as he noticed the two men. "We're currently heading back to inform the council about our decision. Jemuel also wants to say something to us before we leave."

"Oh? I wonder what the Archmage has in mind," Koskenkorva muttered as he and Waldheim followed their companions to the council chambers.

[Kossage]

"Trust me, it's better if you just do as Ax says," Cain chuckled. "She has an eye for strategy unlike you two. Or do I need to remind you, Marcus, of your great plan which was to rush from Folsworth Woods alone towards the waiting Yamatians and endanger the Alliance's entire army just to save a single person who happened to be Ax? Or how about when you blindly walked into Zarnagon's throne room in Myridia with no backup plan whatsoever only to get your ass kicked, Refan?"

The two men blushed at Cain's remark and gnashed their teeth but remained silent.

Cain brushed his blond hair aside and flashed a smile. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Now let's get ready. We'll only get one chance at this once the Sirithai have done their part!"

A loud rumbling sound filled the air as Cain finished speaking. The sand beneath and around the Dominator pulled the creature into it surprisingly quickly.

Marcus gripped Dusk which began glowing. He closed his eyes, calming himself. He tried to recall the words of Cardia and Hephaestus and relied on his memory of them to gain the strength he needed. He uttered a quick prayer to Hephaestus, hoping that the God of the Forge would lend him his power.

The roar of the colossus made the King of Remon open his eyes. Azriel had done what he could, and the beast could move once again. Time was running out.

Marcus readied himself. He was a paladin of Graves Hall and he was willing to do what was necessary to put an end to this beast. He knew he could do it with help from his companions... his friends.

#

Adram gasped once the group had entered the warehouse. "What? That's--"

King Gerard Aurelac of Maar Sul smiled in response. "No need for formalities, Captain Alek. Despard and I got back from Libaterra only to find out that Jardine has fallen. These Blades have just informed us what is at stake." He narrowed his eyes. "What brings your group here at such a dreadful time?"

"We came to this land for two reasons. First, to access the de Ardyn library in Maar Sul City which we hope has the knowledge needed to unlock the code in a journal I possess. The journal should give us important information regarding the Blood Fever if we can decipher its content," Izael explained. "Second, the man we thought was Marcus has turned out to be a copy of the Shadow, and we've begun searching for the real Marcus."

Gerard's eyes flashed. "That shadow creature is a tricky one. He and Xerathas took me to Libaterra while Xerathas placed another copy of the Shadow in my stead. It's imperative we return to Maar Sul City and take down the impostor before he causes any more harm."

"About Marcus... Xerathas had disguised him as a mercenary and took him to Libaterra with us," Despard said. "Marcus returned to his old self later, though, and is probably still in Vanna trying to help Khalid keep order after they deposed Khalid's aunt Adela. Good news is that the Sarquil and their lizardmen allies are sympathetic to the Alliance, so we're one step closer to bringing down the Proninist Party."

Skye's eyes grew wide. "Marcus is in Libaterra? How could he leave Remon under an impostor?"

"You can continue this fine discussion once Galeras Matheson has been dealt with. You're here for the maps, right?" the Blades agent interrupted and pointed at the maps on the table. "Galeras feels safe inside the city's walls while he's surrounded by his supporters not to mention all his bodyguards inside the manor itself. This means that gaining access to the manor via the underground waterway is easy."

Adram leaned over the table and looked at the maps. "And yet you haven't acted despite having this information. I guess it's lack of manpower?"

The agent nodded. "Bingo. As long as Galeras's supporters stop any pigeons--or messengers for that matter--from reaching nearby cities or ports, there's no way we can call for backup. With you here, I think we should have enough skilled warriors and mages to stand a chance." He grinned. "Galeras has forced Amarawyn to take a public role. The people of Jardine are behind her, so once she's rescued and she reveals Galeras's true colours, they will rally behind her."

"So, it's a rescue operation, then," Shyralis muttered. "Where exactly will the waterway lead us?"

The agent pointed at one of the maps. "There's a sewer hole near the kitchen. Find the hole, climb up, and you're in. The place will be swarming with guards, though," he explained. "A group of decent size should be able to take out guards but there's always a possibility that Galeras himself or some of his closest henchmen will be troublesome. I'd avoid direct confrontation if possible."

"If you need more skilled sword users, take Despard with you. He still has injuries but he won't slow you down," Gerard said. "Good luck. You're going to need it."

[Matthew]

When his father screamed for him to duck, Jono complied by promptly tripping over a cobblestone and falling face first into the ground. Something radiating a lot of heat passed overhead, and Jono thanked clumsiness that he wasn't melted by whatever it was. Rolling on the ground he was on his feet trying to face the enemy for a confrontation.

"Other way."

He turned around and drew his sword.

"What did it attack me with?"

"Glowing green whip out of its wrist."

"What?"

"Glowing green whip out of its-"

"I almost had my flesh melted off by a Fourcite's reproductive organ!?"

A psychic roar pierced through Jono's current nonsenses. He pointed his sword.

"Same to you, you demon pervert! I'd return the gesture in kind, but my priest advised me against heavy lifting."

"Son, you really should be running."

"Listen to the ghost." Another psychic voice.

"Saleos! God dammit, I miss being able to hear and smell you bastards." After a thought, Jono amended this, "I mean, I'm able to perfectly smell and hear you bastards. Got my sight back, too. Nice blouse, Sally."

"Jono, don't be a fool. Surrender and we won't even have to hurt you. We'll just tie you up and present you to Archdemon Pazuzu."

"Sounds fun, but I've got a hot date and no time to waste with demons. Prepare for you and your buddy to be sliced and diced."

"Cease the bravado, human. No one's coming to your aid in this place, you're more crippled than usual. Oh, speaking of which, say goodbye to Daddy."

His father's screams filled his ears.

"I can see ghosts, too, and I can banish them. You're not winning this."

Jono grinned and readied his sword.

"Come on, then. But don't think I'm going to make it easy for you."

And he waited to feel anything. Hopefully with a limb left to respond with.

[Dignified Pauper]

Swenson was out and about in the city market, perusing the finest wares of Maar Suul City, when he was spotted.

"I'll be!" Stevenson shouted from down the plaza. He hurried over to Swenson. "If it isn't Swenson Von Stupid-Guard! I had heard an elf and companion had recently teleported into the city rather recklessly. I should have known. What news have you of Remon?"

"Captain Stevenson! Oh goodness, where to start about Remon? Well, firstly, there was a big battle, and then the Church of the Memory of Cardia released this gas that turned the entire army into zombies and spread across the lands. Marcus Sarillius was actually an imposter. Nymgrock had tricked Dylas. Dylas is probably some zombie by now. And there's a bunch of refugees in Fragnar." Swenson breathed, and Stevenson looked stumped.

He's joking... right?

"What do you mean, Remon has zombies?" Stevenson asked.

"Yes. Zombies. I watched a friend, Bertha, get eaten by some zombie children as she battled her way through them with stale bread."

"Is Nymgrock here?" Stevenson changed the subject. He was not interested in Swenson's personal tales.

"Yes, we're staying at the inn. We're trying to find the real Marcus. Now that Dylas is gone, there needs to be someone to unify Remon."

Stevenson looked puzzled. Nymgrock had fully supported Dylas, and now he was searching for Marcus Sarillius? He advised Stevenson to take him to Nymgrock. The two had much to discuss. Stevenson had much to tell Nymgrock about Gloriana and the fiasco that has held him in Maar Sul for so long.

[Matthew]

To look at him, Luis Andros doesn't fit the mold of a veteran of many wars, one big and many much smaller, secret ones in the back country of Remon. No, he's too ill-fit to his armor, a bumpkin using his spear as a walking stick and to pick apples along this well-worn forest trail. He would have to be a conscripted farmhand, or vagrant who had looted his equipment off a proper soldier. But appearances are deceiving, and even as he whistles an old Scundian drinking song, he knows he's being watched. In spite of this, he makes himself comfortable underneath a bit of shade and starts eating his apple. When company comes, it wears the faces of the dead.

"Now, boys, I don't suppose y'all wanna turn yourselves around and stop this foolishness?"

Lusty moans responded, the far off zombies making their way to this tasty, slow moving morsel. Luis rolled his eyes and continued devouring the apple, core and all. After this he stood and dusted off his pants, retrieved his spear from the ground, and got in a defensive stance. The zombies had gotten pretty dangerously close, but Luis showed no fear.

"Now, don't you fellas go saying I never warned you."

The leader, not formally just in placement, lunged at Luis, but was brought down in a barrage of arrow fire from the trees. This didn't seem to surprise or even bother the zombies, as they stepped over their peer and within range of Luis' spear. He expertly pierced the brain of one, as the commander had instructed many times in the past few weeks. Soon swords and axes joined his own weapon in the fray, and the creatures lay motionless beneath the feet of a contingent of the Wings of Remon.

"Luis, you play the part of the sitting duck well."

"I'll take that as a compliment, milady."

Luis bowed to Commander Rivka Majere herself, a craggy valkyrie with her red and gray hair shaved down to almost nothing and heavy armored scarred with nicks older than Luis himself. She smiled at the gesture coming from this man, but would have punched just about anyone else who tried to do the same.

"Alright, that looks like the last group that could give us any trouble getting to Ravensworth."

"Save the mobs clawing desperately at the fortifications of Ravenswroth itself," said Sima, Rivka's small and dark tactician. He wrung his hands gloomily at the carnage at his feet.

"Don't worry, Sima, we'll save a few for you at the walls of Ravensworth."

With this she signaled the men on the ground and in the trees to move out as quietly as possible. Luis took a casual pace next to the commander, while Sima followed them sparing one last look on their defeated foes.

"Oh goody."

[Matthew]

The guests had finally arrived. Galeras paraded the little woman in front of a group of his most beloved cutthroats and murderers, arriving to spend a lovely holiday in her ancestral home. All six stood at the entrance of the palace as abused servants retrieved their luggage.

"Galeras, buddy, you never call or write, I'm a little hurt!"

Galeras extended a friendly hand to this loud man, a red haired rogue with round black tattoos around both eyes. A katana was strapped to his back, and several miniature crossbows were holstered in his boots and belt.

"Ams, dearest, this is Wade. He never shuts up, but there's no one better in the mass murder business."

"Charmed," said Amarawyn, biting back so much bile.

"And this fair lady," Galeras said, kissing the hand of a Yamato woman in unnecessarily revealing clothing, "is Faye. Many a man has been wasted trying to seek the mysteries under her shorts."

"You're all bark, you old queen."

He continued to introduce them all. There was Jarrah, a Sarquil in dark clothing with even darker eyes. And Snake, a stealthy looking fellow lighting up in the corner. And Floyd, a one-eyed man with a mustache continuously dismantling and reassembling his specialized crossbow.

"And last, but not least, Bob."

Bob was a strange one, always walking around in a suit of armor, the helmet never revealing his face, even to his closest allies. He sported a wicked assortment of weapons, but none more impressive then his wrist mounted dart gun.

"Many a politician, rival crime boss and... Hell, I assume puppy has died instantly after being on the receiving end of those poisonous little projectiles." Galeras smiled a bit at this. "But that isn't why we're here this week, gentlemen and lady. We're here to party, and party we shall."

Floyd looked up at Amarawyn, and removed a toothpick he hand been grinding the whole time between his teeth.

"I'd like to party with her, Boss."

Amarawyn turned horrified eyes upon her husband, who smiled at her.

"Perhaps, my friend."

Laughter from all around followed this, but it died as the killers were shown their guestrooms. Amarawyn was shown to hers like a prisoner once more, and Galeras went to work out the preparations for the night's feast.

[Kossage]

"We've decided to return to Vanna. Our help will be needed there," Leon said calmly as he and his companions stood in the council chamber.

"I see. In that case we hope that you'll succeed in protecting Dawn and Dusk and their wielders. Kite's mages will be waiting to teleport you once you reach the inn," Jemuel commented. "However, there's one more thing. I've recently met someone who'd like to accompany you. Allow me to introduce him."

A white-cloaked figure walked into the chamber, lowering his hood. "So we meet again, my little protégé," he said as his calm eyes turned to Leon.

"Holy fack! I didn't know you had a big brother, Leon!" Khasra gasped. His eyes fixed on the man who looked uncannily like Leon except he had longer, dark hair and a beard.

Leon was trembling. "Im...possible. Y-you died in the Explosion!"

The white-cloaked man smiled. "And yet you're here in the flesh too even though Arawn Losstarot slew you. You should do well to remember the power of the Fifth Law of the Andain."

"That's right. Take caution, for there is always a consequence you did not anticipate," Leon muttered to himself before raising his voice. "If you came back to life when Ayna Silverbranch resurrected me, why did you choose to appear now and not some other time?"

"News spread, little one, and I realized you're abusing the Fourth Law: seek, and you shall not find," the man explained. "This Blood Fever is anathema to everything the gods have ever stood for. It must be stopped. My wisdom shall guide you as long as you cease looking for clues to the cure. You too must understand what's at stake here."

Ferron narrowed his eyes. "This is quite fascinating for sure, but allow me to ask: who in Cardia's name are you?"

"He's my old mentor: Taliesin, Lord of the Andain," Leon stated carefully. "I thought I was the only Andain who was brought back but it seems I was wrong. Perhaps my resurrection also caused Taliesin's awakening as the Fifth Law dictates."

Waldheim's eyes grew wide. "The wise lord himself... I can hardly believe this! If I hadn't decided to stay here to find clues about the Blood Fever, I would follow you and learn more from the famous Taliesin himself!"

Jemuel smiled wryly. "I'm sure you can catch up on old times while you head for Kite's inn. The council hopes to hear from you once you get back." His eyes turned to Rhylian. "And I hope all of you understand that doublecrossing us wouldn't do you any good after all the good things we've done for you. I wish for us to be <i>friends</i>, not enemies."

Leon looked more determined than he had been in a long time. "Let's go. We won't lose no matter what... especially now that we have my mentor on our side!" He and Taliesin left for Kite's inn, and the others followed them.

Once the doors closed, Richelieu turned to Jemuel. "The council might have questions once they hear what has transpired here. I've heard people gossiping that we've been too kind with these delegates and that we shouldn't have let them go."

"You saw how defensive Alcibiates and his friends got when we tried our first tactic earlier," the archmage replied. "There's more than one way to skin a cat, and letting the Alliance think we're sympathetic to their cause will give us what we want in the end." He narrowed his eyes. "You said you were still working on those Lefeinish inventions?"

Richelieu raised his eyebrow and smiled when he realized what Jemuel was implying. "Ah, yes. I look forward to meeting our new <i>guests</i> once they return from Vanna."

The archmage nodded, lounging back on his chair. "Indeed... and then we'll be one step closer to reaching our grand goal."

[Kossage]

"Fack this shit," Arthur Fonzarelli cursed in the cold weather while he was navigating the streets of Trinity Gask. Thankfully Craig Rimner's Coalition-supporting Scunnish regiment was stationed in the city so seeing another seemingly drunk Scun like Fonzie made no one blink. For once he was happy about his Scun lineage.

He stopped by and bought some dirty carrots which he began chewing once he'd given one carrot to Ted. His money was running out and he'd have to start stealing soon or find a job. Neither option thrilled him in this city which was full of bloodthirsty enemies.

The half-Scun detective sat down on a nearby bench and took out a pen and a piece of paper. As he scribbled down notes, he tried to recall whether any of the information he had found in these past few days had any revelance for his investigations.

He had witnessed the brutal end of the Maar Sul Gang War by accident and happened to find out two relevant bits of info. First, a Totenkopf's sly comment when SAVAGE-ED arrived on the scene made it clear that at least Captain Bush's men were working closely with the Totenkopfs. Second, Lieutenant X had fooled everyone big-time when he turned out to be some elf mage and had teleported away with Tiyana Natiya.

Staying in Maar Sul City became too risky after the Mathesons had been driven underground. As long as Bush was in charge of SAVAGE-ED, Fonzie's life was at risk. Perhaps the only reason they hadn't bothered to kill him was so that he could locate Tiyana for them. Too bad Lieutenant X had gotten there first and stolen her, thus making Fonzie useless in Bush's eyes. That's why Fonzie got out while he still had legs to do so.

Fonzie had followed his nose, and once again his hunch had turned out to be correct. Masquerading himself as a Proninist soldier, he had entered Port Dunross where he had heard that a couple matching Lieutenant X and Tiyana had been seen heading east.

He had also learned that someone dangerous had taken control of Port Dunross after Colonel Gorbachev, the local Proninist commander, had been murdered. One drunkard had whispered the word Aurelac but when Fonzie had tried to talk to him the following night, the man was nowhere to be found.

The air in Port Dunross was getting unhealthy for Fonzie as people began whispering whenever they saw him snooping around. He decided to leave before someone would make <i>him</i> disappear.

He travelled east and saw a large number of Proninists retreating to Libaterra and yet he saw as big numbers of Proninists in the countryside as before. How was that possible? Surely the Proninist forces should've diminished because he never saw any reinforcements arriving from Libaterra... all he had seen were soldiers in retreat for some odd reason. Pondering this, he had followed the fleeing Proninists to the wretched hive of scum and villainy, also known as Trinity Gask.

Fonzie had heard that a girl looking like Tiyana had last been seen in the Losstarot manor which was the Coalition's base. However, he couldn't just enter it so he had to figure out how to get in. But what guarantee did he have that Tiyana even was in the manor anymore? Perhaps she had teleported somewhere else. And yet he had to find her because he felt that he was finally getting closer to unraveling the mystery behind Count Belial's assassination.

He had found out that Totenkopfs and SAVAGE were working together but what part did Tiyana and Rimner's treacherous Scun regiment play in their plans? He had to know before he could return to Maar Sul City and expose the traitors within the Grand Alliance.

The half-Scun detective yawned and stood up, putting the notes in his pocket. This brainstorming session hadn't given him any new thoughts, and he was getting tired. It was time to hit the sack once he found a suitable inn.

As he walked towards an alley, he suddenly heard a piercing roar which nearly made him soil himself. Moments later he heard the sounds of clanging weapons and before he could step aside, he hit something... no, someone!

Fonzie pushed the man away. "I'm not into kinky stuff, thankyouverymuch!" he growled, reaching for his service dagger. "Keep moving or I'll... HOLY FACK! WHAT IS THAT GODDAMN THING?!" He froze in place as he saw a roaring, one-eyed abomination straight out of hell charging at him and the man. What had he gotten himself into?

[Matthew]

Lucky ducked into the meeting place, a Sarquil restaurant Dusty fancied that made a mean bowl of chili, among other spicy fair. When he reached their usual table, his dark comrade was already starting on a bowl, and had ordered another for Lucky as well.

"Well, what have you got?"

Lucky stared for a bit before sitting down and accommodating.

"Leaving soon. Small group to stay. Waldheim, maybe Ferron. Who knows who else."

"So plenty of room for people who may recognize me to wander around the city, even after the majority of their forces leave. Brilliant."

Lucky shrugged, and started on his chili.

"I guess I'll have to keep a low profile for longer than we suspected. Good thing we placed Ned as that fool's secretary." He leaned back, and thought. "Right, this also means you're going to have to stay pretty close to whoever stays. I'll sneak in and fudge with the military detail, make sure you get escort and guard duty. And don't you dare be a scary bastard! We can't afford for you to put someone off enough to get suspicious."

Lucky glared, but after a moment nodded agreement.

"Excellent. Nothing left but to enjoy our meal and get a bit drunk."

With this, he signaled a waiter for some more Kilm wine.

#

The swordsman felt human hands on his arm and turned to face Fonzie and his monkey. To the detective's surprise, he wore a blindfold.

"Listen, whoever you are, I can't hear or smell you at the moment, but if you're up to help just push me into or away from the demon when appropriate. Also, be on the lookout for its ally, who may be in human form."

Fonzie looked at Ted nervously. In response to this the little monkey pulled out his own service dagger and raised it in solidarity.

"Right, it's decided then. Nice knowing you, Ted."

And with that, they both screamed and shoved the blind lunatic at the cyclops. To their surprise he reached out his hand, caressed the scary bastard's neck, and through this seemed to realize the dimensions of it enough to leap onto its shoulders and plunge the katana into its radiation spewing eye. A roar shook the whole of downtown Trinity Gask, and people ran screaming for their lives.

"I felt that, Bessy. It was good for me, too!" said the blind swordsman. Fonzie and Ted traded a puzzled expression before moving in with their own weapons.

[The Last Oath]

Nivek lay in his bed half covered in sheets, the still, slow breathing body of Anya beside him. There was a knock at the door as it swung open, Borbie whistling as he trodded inside.

"Niv.." Borbie grinned at the scene, "keeping the good stuff from us huh boss?" The Nightstalker boss sat up from the mess and stood up, sighing.

"Let's go to the inner circle room, and tell everyone else to get there too. I'll be there soon."

*

Eadin, the Nightstalker underboss, sat up in his stone chair. "So... Etna Matheson seeks to overthrow her brothers rule in Jardine with our help? And simply share the winnings with us? She's setting us up, revenge for her brother."

"I believe not." Nivek told the inner circle. "That broad in my quarters said that events in Jardine shall soon wrestle it from Galeras's grasp. She implies a third party shall see to his downfall, and that together, we sieze the oppurtunity and deal with what's left."

"So, let the Matheson crumble and let another take their place, why come to us?" Eadin was suspucious as ever.

"Manpower..." Borbie commented from the other side of the round table. "The majority of criminals in Jardine work for Galeras, loyal to him. Even if Galeras is felled, an attempt by Etna to take control would be challenged by them, he's got over 200 loyal men! She has nowhere the numbers in her side of the family to match that."

Eadin nodded slowly. "So ally with us to deal with that.. Our large numbers are no secret after the Maar Sul Ball and the gang war. Nivek, everyone here knows Etna Matheson doesn't just wish to share."

"No shit, brother. That witch is sly, I don't know what her agenda is, but I do know she needs us for her little scheme." Nivek looked around the table. "If we go through with this, we'll only come out on top."

*

The inner circle room cleared out, until only Nivek and Eadin sat in the stillness. "Has Royt dispelled the silence spell around this room yet?" Nivek asked.

"Nope, it stops after we leave."

"Good.. So the girl, Anya, was able to find this place and get into my quarters, no problems." Nivek brought it up.

"mhmm, Koryaksky never found the place I believe." Eadin commented.

"It's this Etna." Nivek stared into space. "Fucking witch... I'm taking Royt to Jardine, two Capo's will come with us. I needa feel the situation out, see for myself whats happening." Eadin nodded like the loyal man he was. "You and Borbie take care of things here, but your the boss. Things are seeming are bit easier now with Kory's Matheson family disappearing out of Maar Sul-"

"And since we allied with the Skull-masked clan." Eadin interrupted. There was another stillness in the room.

"Yeah... They're alright, trustworthy of their word, but sneaky as hell im sure." Nivek stood up and Eadin did the same. "Well, I'll see you in a little while then." Nivek told his acting boss hitting him on the arm, Eadin doing the same.

*

"Anya, put your clothes on. We're leaving." Nivek walked into his room to grab his short sword and last minute equipment.

"What? Where are you taking me?" Anya said, confused.

"Back to Jardine."

[The Last Oath]

Briss was relieved about his meeting with Glaurung because it hadn't gone bad. It was very dangerous for him in Trinity Gask. Even though he had helped Adela al Saif in Vanna and escorted her across the country, suspucion was always going to be high.

Especially from a known associate of the alliance. Briss thought as he aimed his longbow and shot an almost bulls-eye on the target. The dark-elf beside him firing three arrows in succussion, all hitting the centre of the target. Briss accepted defeat and gave the longbow he was using back to his new friend, leaving the training grounds.

*

He arrived at the Witch Elves tavern-inn at dusk and as expected, it was full of elven outcasts, some baring the colours of the Coalition. He stood out, although not the only human inside he received looks as he walked in, until seconds later the noisy room went back to its business.

"Briss!" The Mystic Knight turned his head to the stairs that led to the inn rooms. Tiyana was just walking down into the tavern, beautiful as ever. How I love female elves Briss muttered to himself.

The two sat down in a corner looking at each other, not knowing where to start. Tiyana broke the silence. "I put in a good word for you."

"Huh?" Briss attention was elsewhere.

"With the commander Glaurung, she must have seen us talking as you left. She asked me how I knew you, and I explained, explained that your are a man of your word."

"Ah." Briss smiled cheerfully, Thats gonna help gain trust. "Thank you."

Tiyana grinned back at him. "So your here to join the Coalition? The alliance should have treated you better then?"

Briss didnt really want to lie to Tiyana, but there were a lot of elven ears around. "..Yeah, I spent enough time with them to realise, I don't agree with their views. They'll just cause more war."

Who was he kidding, Briss knew deep down he loved the war scene, he fed of it, that feeling in battle of honour and glory mixed with his raging attacks all the way down to the intricate planning and rush of being deep in enemy territory with no support. It's why he chose the mercenary path in the first place, he would always be able to find a war.

"Oh Briss! I'm so happy, I've joined as well!" Briss's eyes shot to Tiyana, The hell. "The elf you saw me with before, Lirado Qavennurie, a similar magic user like I. He introduced me to the dark elves, that I'm apart of now, and their leader, Kamelith. I'm going to help them with developing time magic."

A bell rang in Briss's head. "What?"

"Help them." Tiyana said smiling, "There are too many holes in time magic that need fixing-"

"-No, who's the leader?" Briss asked.

"The leader of the dark elves, Lord Kamelith, Briss.. Why?"

Briss knew the name from somewhere, he just couldn't put his finger on it with all the noise the tavern brought. "Nevermind, I thought it was someone else." He smiled at her and looked down at her stomach, moving over to her side of the table to touch it. "My son." Briss smiled genuinely this time.

Tiyana giggled, "To become a mighty mercenary like you? Why not your daugher?" She laughed.

"Hey now, theres a tradition in the Phoenixheart family, the first child of every Phoenixheart has always been a boy." Briss rubbed his hand over Tiyana's bulge as they engaged in conversation about how amazing this was going to be.

*

An hour or so later, a dark elfess at the tavern begun to sing elvish poems. The crowd watched quitely as her sweet voice filled the room. After the elfess finished, Briss decided to leave. He had asked Tiyana about what had happpened after he left Maar Sul, and she recited how two totenkopfs attacked her, Sajon saved her which he believed lead to his death, how she met with the Grand Alliance and lost her hand in the ruined kingdom, her months with the Nightstalkers and ultimetley, how she found herself, calmer and happy with the Dark Elves.

Briss quickly retold his story of the fellowship of Maar Sul, leaving out the key details, and so they were both on the same page. The two embraced outside the tavern and parted.

***

An elfess, much like the one from the tavern yet in century old clothing sang her poem, beautifully. The words were familiar, she sung:

A dark shadow born that day
Forever we shall be apart
The treachery when he lost his way
Still a burning desire in his heart

Briss awoke. The words of the poem still ringing loudly in his head. He remembered; He had read this song before in Sanae's library and asked what it was about, the only answer he received was that it refered to the one named Kamelith, who attempted usurption almost two hundred years ago.

Forever we shall be apart. Kamelith, Lord of the Dark Elves. He had tried to usurp the thone and failed, bringing about the first elvish banishment, the first Dark Elf.

[eternal_essence]

Reven had no intention of heading outside and joining in the commotion, but the constant clanging or swords and some unspeakably loud stomping was giving him a headache. He had enough problems going on in his head without it shooting sharp bolts of pain through him, perhaps he would step outside and fight after all; one thing he had come to learn about himself was that when he was in the heat of battle, sword drawn and adrenaline pumping, he felt at ease. It was one of the few things that Reven had come to learn about himself, actually.

For now he sat in a mostly empty pub and nursed a mug of ale, he’d taken to drinking more and more lately, probably not the best idea considering the hostile environment he was in, but he was confident enough in his ability to fight, even if he was drunk. As he lifted the mug to his lips another earth shattering crash rattled the foundations of the room, and caused Reven’s drink to spill down his front. “Shit.” the warrior muttered to himself. He let out a sigh and stood up, there was an initial wobble in his stance, but he soon gained composure and walked out the door to the streets of Vanna.

His eyes widened slightly as he stared at the image before him, what appeared to be severed heads were dotted on the street. Reven bent down and stared at one of the specimens that were closest to him, the blank stare on the severed head gave Reven a chill, and he procured images of bloodshed and war that had crept their way into his dreams. Slowly, he stood up and drew his long sword, and began to walk towards the city’s outer walls.

Once he had reached the heat of battle, he stared at the chaos before him, orders were being shouted left and right, and warriors ran back and forth with their swords drawn (one actually went running past with his buttocks aflame). Reven made his way to the Ramparts where gatherings of fighters were stopping any enemy soldiers from climbing the city’s walls, and stared down at the scene below him, hundreds if not thousands of soldiers were engaged in battle below, the sea of bloodshed and destruction was enough to trigger those same memories of battle in Reven, but this time it was much more fierce. He remembered being part of a battle just like this, remembered all the blood that he had spilled, it was enough to bring back the headache that had been teasing him earlier.

The one thing that Reven knew was that he had tracked the sword Dawn to this city, and it seemed that every sword that was located in Vanna was being used in this battle. If he was able to find someone who knew about that sword, then maybe he in turn would be able to find out about himself.

[Aerith's knight]

"Come, Waldheim. I've tracked down some possible useful tomes last night. You may make use of my chamber to study them.", Harrad said, the two old men moving away from the main party.

"Already?", Waldheim said, mildly surprised.

"Let's just say I needed some alone time lately.", Harrad chuckled.

"I'm guessing it's related to that woman following us around silently?", Waldheim observed discreetly.

"Ah yes, that's my new apprentice. She can be a bit..."

"A bit what?"

"..Tiring.", Harrad sighed as he opened the door to his chambers, expecting a room filled with trinkets and machines, but finding near emptiness.

"...", Harrad coughed with shock.

"Did you redecorate?", Waldheim said as he raised an eyebrow.

"I did!", Lynnea chirped from behind, "All these things were far too dangerous. "

"Lyn-Lynnea, why.. how?", the old mage finally drenched up.

"Nap time!"

"Excuse me?", Waldheim said as he nearly fell down.

"Lynnea, I have a new quest for you.", Harrad's eyes sparkled as he said this, "You will go with the group to Vanna, and study.. hmm.. the interrelated politics of the conservative Sarquil opposition. Yes, that sound real."

"You think I'm ready, master?", Lynnea basically squealed with delight. She hadn't been outside of the ziggurat in years.

"You'll do fine. Now onwards, or they'll leave without you.", Harrad said with a smile.

"Yay!", Lynnea finally screamed and ran off.

"You're a horrible old man", Waldheim sniggered.

"Talk to me after you spend a day with her.", Harrad said as he waved his hand and the door locked behind her.

----------------------------------------------------------

A lone nightstalker roamed through the near empty streets of Alent. The sun had set, and all was quiet. He'd spend months travelling through the harsh lands between Maar Sul and Alent. He barely escaped death at the hands of the Crimson Coalition, the Alent forces that suddenly showed up in the middle of nowhere, making him swim across the river.

But it was all worth it. He was here, one of the most influential cities in the world. And he was the first. He would start up his own nightstalker group here, and he would be rich, and never have to crawl through a sewer ever agai-

*bof*

Little griffins flew across his vision as he tried to see the bloke who hit him, but there was nothing but air. Slowly he moved his hand forward and felt some sort of hard air in front of him. The strange things these Alentians came up with.

He tried to punch it, but the fist went right through. So that was the trick, all he had to do was run at-...

Wait, this happened before, didn't it? And he remembered it didn't end well. Well, he'd be smarter this time, nobody messes with a nightstalker twice. He turned around with a smile on his face and reassuredly walked back down the street.

"YAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!"

*splash*

A small chuckle could be heard as the manhole cover slid itself back over the hole.

"I like this place already.", Nesa said as he walked away without a second thought.

[Matthew]

The darkly dressed man in the mask was going mad waiting for that damnable Harrad to leave. When he was sure the councilor wouldn't return, and that he was alone, he unlocked the back door and began pushing barrels inside. They were filled with gunpowder and had been sitting there all afternoon, placed by the masked man's minions. After all the barrels were inside, he moved them further in, bypassing the wards and protective barriers of the central chamber. Eventually he had all thirteen in a pile at the epicenter of the Council's archives. Without a pause, he lit the fuse and ran to the exit. He didn't even bother to close the door as he made his escape into the dead of night.

The following explosion ripped the center of the building asunder, and the ensuing flames engulfed the rest of the library rather quickly, using the ancient tomes as fuel. The flames also served to illuminate a strawguy hanging from a nearby streetlamp. Dressed in a big, floppy wizard's hat and baggy robes, it was hanging from a noose around its neck. It was a message to the Magicracy, but what kind?

[Kossage]

Well-dressed people from all ages were sitting around a round table which was located at the heart of the Losstarot manor in Trinity Gask. Commander Glaurung Losstarot sipped coffee and looked at each of the Coalition leaders in turn with her calculating eyes.

Adela al-Saif, high cleric of the Clergy of Artemicia: beautiful like a rose and as dangerous as its thorns. Boris Ivanov, chairman of the Proninist Party: a resourceful strategist hiding behind a massive beard. Kamelith, lord of the Dark Elves: a charming intellectual. Yoshimuriko, high cleric of the Clergy of Nergal: a warrior unsurpassed in swordplay despite his old age. Simon, representative of the Totenkopfs: a sly mage with a silky tongue. Endoran L'Sarius: a trustworthy advisor and the woman behind the reformation of the Libaterran Rebels and the resurrection of the Mullencamp. Last and definitely least: Craig Rimner, the brutish leader of the Secret Scundian Expedition who had introduced the Coalition to the beauty of Rimnerian Songs.

Simon smiled. "I'm sure I speak on everyone's behalf when I say that everyone rejoices about your reunion with your son Hannibal. Even if the Vulfsatz are imprisoned in Alent, at least one of them is working as a spy within the Alliance and provides our agents with much-needed information on the Alliance's movements in Libaterra."

"I'm not happy that you've asked Captain Chernenko to pull back our troops from eastern Maar Sulais countryside," Boris Ivanov growled in his deep voice. "With a bit more effort we'll be able to put Maar Sul City on its knees. I see no reason to make such a cowardly maneuver on the eve of our victory."

"I would've wanted to consult with you first, but time was of the essence. A new force is rising in Port Dunross. It'll give the Alliance enough trouble but it'll also oppose us as can be seen with Colonel Gorbachev's murder," Glaurung replied. "Your manpower isn't big enough to fight against both the Alliance and this new foe, and we'll need your men more than ever on the eastern front if we wish to enter Alent's territory. Besides, our mages cast elaborate illusion spells to make it look like that your forces are still guarding Eastern Maar Sul even though they're retreating here. The Alliance won't realize what has happened until it's too late for them to react."

Kamelith narrowed his eyes. "Speaking of which, isn't this new foe related to that midget who tried to assassinate you some time ago? The very midget, might I add, who was hiding among our esteemed ally Rimner's regiment?"

"I had no idea she would do something like that, I swear!" Craig Rimner gasped. "All my princess asked of me was to take my men here to help you guys! She said we'd help sweep Maar Sul clean of those who dare defy the might of our proud kingdom of Scundia!"

"In any case it's clear that Princess Maple Mallorein of Scundia is a threat. The magic she used against Glaurung was shamanic in origin. It was the same kind of magic which the mysterious killer, Wolfsbane, used to assassinate our glorious leader, Pronin. Maple and Wolfsbane must be one and the same. She has to pay for her crimes," Boris Ivanov commented.

Yoshimuriko bared his teeth. "If Maple was the one who killed Pronin, it means she's also working against the Alliance since Pronin died before the Maar Sulais authorities could interrogate him. She might even be working for the third force which has recently taken over Port Dunross. After she failed, whoever hired her will certainly consider her useless and will want to terminate her before she reveals her employer's identity. I could send my clerics to capture her."

"Yoshi has a point. Let his minions capture the Princess of Scundia," Endoran purred. "Once we have her, we can use her as a bargaining tool against her father, King Khasra Mallorein III of Scundia who is currently travelling with the Alliance in Libaterra. We can force him to work for us unless he wants to see his precious daughter dead."

"Who cares about boring Scuns? I want to know when this Coalition will help me reclaim my sultanate from that fool, Khalid!" Adela hissed.

"Every one of our actions will ensure that your desired outcome will become reality," Endoran replied in a soothing tone. "Now that we've heard that General Omaroch has left his post as the head of Alent's armies and the third force will soon rise in Port Dunross to keep the Alliance busy in Maar Sul, we can strike with full force."

Boris Ivanov smiled. "I see what you're getting at. My troops can help General Leopold Lain's forces break into Alentish territory. Alent's mages have never been good at working together, so their armies will crumble without Omaroch leading them. Once we have broken through and captured Maple, we can proceed into Etheril and Vanna, surrounding Alent from both sides in a war of attrition. Then your sultanate will be back in your hands, Adela."

Adela nodded. "Very well. I'll take your word for it. My clerics will assist you once they hear I'm safe. We need to send spies to Vanna to organize the remaining clerics there to form a resistance when the time is right. We can capture the city with ease with their help as long as they pretend to be on the Alliance's side."

The doors leading to the room opened with a loud bang, and a breathless guard entered. "My deepest apologies for interrupting this meeting, my lords and ladies, but I have grave news!" he panted. "A group of, eh, demons have been witnessed attacking the blind swordsman Jono Renfield. Collateral damage is as of yet unknown!"

"Demons, HERE?!" Glaurung screeched, losing her composure as she stood up. "And you idiots couldn't act on your own! Where is Orestes when I need him?" She brushed her brown hair aside, breathing heavily. "Don't just stand there! Alert the Mullencamp, no... alert the <i>S-Class</i> Mullencamp to subdue Mr. Renfield and those snarling abominations! I want them brought to me alive! I am Master Losstarot, and I will <i>not</i> tolerate violence in the heart of my domain!"

The frightened guard saluted with haste and left.

"This meeting is adjourned until we've settled this issue. I suggest you all get some sleep... assuming the interlopers give us such luxury. I must attend to my son." With that, Glaurung walked gracefully out of the room with barely contained fury flashing in her beautiful green eyes.

Craig Rimner smiled sheepishly at the other leaders who had baffled expressions on their faces. "I told y'all that those Alliance bastards were trouble!"

[Kossage]

Titaniel Focker was still running like crazy. No one had been kind enough to put out the fire in his ass. He had numbed to the pain in his crotch already. The Scun wondered if he could ever again sire bastards like in the good old days in Scundor.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire!" the distinct sound of pure dread, also known as Ronove, bellowed as the scarred warrior hopped on Titaniel's back. "No wait, it's your rear end, not pants! Sorry! My bad!"

"Get off me, ye facking bastard!" Titaniel cursed, but Ronove didn't move no matter how he tried to shake him off. "What have I ever done to deserve yer awful company?"

"Daddy always said that liars burn in something he called hell while their pants freeze in the ninth circle, whatever that is!" Ronove rambled on with a dreamy look in his eyes. "I hope they have saunas in there, though. I miss those. And I miss my cake. Why didn't those stupid Remoners make my Cake Day official when I was king for a day? It would've been so awesome to eat strawberry cake and put it in my pocket and then take it out and put it back and--"

"Oh ye gods! Have mercy on poor ol' Titaniel, son of Mother Focker!" Titaniel cried out. "Send yer wrath upon this foul beast who torments yer faithful servant!"

"Be careful what you wish for!" the skies rumbled in response and took a dump which consisted of people who landed straight on top of the hapless duo.

Unithien arrived at the scene just in time to gasp at the sight in front of her: there was lots of crying and gnashing of teeth as the two groups were entangled in a confusing mess.

"Get his arse off my face!"

"Why the hell did you have to barge into us just when we were in the process of teleporting? Look what happened!"

"Who the fack is gnawing on my toes?"

"Rollerball, whee! Let's rock *munch* and roll, people... no, wait! On second *munch* thought, did anyone *munch* bring me *munch* some cake?"

"Oh gods! I feel something warm and floppy on my neck! Don't these people wear underwear anymore?!"

Unithien had to muster her courage not to laugh at this weird sight. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the power within her, pulling the mess apart one person at a time in her mind's eye. When she opened her eyes, she saw that everyone was back on their feet and the mess was gone. The fatigue resulting from the spell struck her at that instant, and she faltered, only to end up in Khasra's strong, helpful arms.

"Thanks," she whispered, blushing as her eyes turned to the King of Scundia.

Lynnea gasped as she took a look at the ravaged streets and the chaos at the walls of Vanna. "This is horrible..."

Titaniel pulled his pants up, happy that there was no fire to worry about anymore. "It ain't a pretty sight, lady. We could use yer help... assuming you won't try teleport on my butt again."

#

Marcus trembled as he readied Dusk which was already glowing brightly. Ax's plan had worked, and the demon colossus was sinking into sand. It was time to act. He raised his sword high, preparing to unleash its power on the monster.

"It's now or never!" he roared with ferocity which surprised even himself. His actions might be reckless, but he felt as if Hephaestus himself was guiding his movements. He decided to trust in his instincts and took a leap of faith.

[Matthew]

Azriel had finally recovered from his attack on the colossus. He smiled down at the beacon of Marcus' sword, and then joined the Blades behind the wall for a rest.

#

Jono felt the vibration as the rest of the demons leaped over buildings to surround him and his unknown companion, the fat bastards sending rubble spraying into him. This was the end, but at least he'd go down fighting, and at peace with the ghost of his father. Also, he could swear a monkey was on his shoulder and nuzzling up against his cheek.

#

Ripley saw the demons jump from their perches into the street to surround the Renfield character and a disheveled Scund not in the briefing. A man with long white hair was commanding them, and by his glowing red eyes was probably a disguised demon himself. She scanned the sky for the telltale signal that Bullock's unit was doing its damn job. She soon spotted it, two flare arrows in the sky. She signaled for her boys to proceed, and gave her machinebow one final check before leading them out.

Just before coming within line of sight of the demons, as distracted as they were, Bullock sprang the traps on both sides of the street, tiny glass orbs imprisoning mini fire elementals bursting atop the demons to the left and right of Renfield. The creatures did their job, devouring the demons through even their tough skin. Soldiers would be standing by to douse the bastards and send them back to the high planes, even if they were like infants compared to their dangerous cousins.

Ripley shouted and her men fired their machinebows into the demon between them and Renfield's party, which she noticed apparently contained a monkey in a little costume. Weird Alliance bastards. The creature soon fell, its back littered with hundreds of arrows. Sadly that probably wouldn't keep it down for long, but they could at least extract Renfield long enough to get some information. Yakov and Ringo picked up Renfield, in spite of his protestations, while the man and the monkey followed and the rest of Ripley's men provided covering fire. She joined the odd group behind some rubble.

"Mr. Renfield, I need to know the situation."

"I think he's injured... He said he couldn't hear or smell me."

"Do you know what's going on, Scund?"

"No-"

"Then shut the hell up."

With this, Ripley signaled a medic. Renfield finally spoke.

"I've been nabbed, but not by the demons. Coalition? Listen, I need you to heal me! I can take care of this if you get me unpoisoned."

The medic came by and Ripley tried to explain that Renfield was poisoned, when the men piped up, "Come on, you bastards! Oh, I get it, bureaucratic muckedy muck, don't have the right orders? I know you have healers, so fix me!"

Just as the medic was about the cast a healing spell, Renfield interrupted again.

"Come on! I brought Hannibal Losstarot back! I know about these demons, you need me! You Coalition bas-"

The Scund placed his hand over Renfield's mouth, and smiled at the nice, scary guards.

"... So, heal him now, Ma'am?"

"As much as I want to just knock him out at this point, please do."

#

Jono could feel his senses climbing out of the depths of the Demon Realm. For one brief moment he felt the presence of his father again, with a woman.

"Hey, Dummy. Looks like you're leaving again. Found someone who wanted to see you, though."

"Hello, Jono."

"M-mother?"

"I love you, son. Please settle down soon. And please not with that horrible demon woman."

"Mo-"

But they were both gone, and he could hear again. Battle was in the distance, the ground was shaking from the wrath of the demons. He could smell a rum covered Scund and his rum covered monkey. And there were soldiers of some kind all around.

"Um, ignore that last bit. So, who are we, then?"

"I am Captain Ripley, S-Class Mullencamp. Now you're going to tell me why there is a group of goddamn demons in my town."

Oh boy.

[Matthew]

Lucky and Dusty were joined by Ned on a roof adjacent the scene of the fire. The Three could feel the heat of the blaze on their skin. The Fire Brigade was trying desperately to fight the inferno. Dusty studied the scene, curious. Had Glaurung sent someone else? Those Vulfsatz goons? Lucky stared dispassionately, his thoughts as blank as his expression. It was what it was. Ned, on the other hand, was fascinated, the flames erotic dancers reflected in his irises.

"Mr. Sparky wants to do some of that."

"Too messy," said Dusty. Lucky shrugged agreement, and made to leave before Dusty placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You." He looked at Ned, too. "Both of you, this could be important. Keep your ears open and report back to me."

Lucky frowned.

"If you will it, of course, o feared leader."

Lucky smirked and was off. Ned had to be pulled away, Dusty directing him away like a stern mother. Later he would swear he sensed something alien in the boy try to look back one more time.

[Kossage]

Refan gasped as he saw Marcus leaping on the colossus's back. <i>Why does he always have to show off?</i> the thief thought and turned to run down the ramparts to beat what few Chaos Dwarves remained inside the city. As he was on his way, he happened to bump into a man with a hood.

"Dawn?" the man muttered as he took a look at Refan's glowing sword Smaragdos but then shook his head. "No, that's not it..."

The thief shrugged and was about to continue towards the roaring Chaos Dwarves who were attacking the Blades when realization hit him. His demonic senses might've been rather sharp today as he had been reunited with his old buddy Ragnar not long ago, but was yet another old ally of the Grand Alliance here? The hood, the tone of voice and the facial features of this new man made Refan gasp.

"Huh? Is that you, Reven? Or am I going crazy from the heat?"

#

Countess Endoran L'Sarius stormed into the room where Glaurung Losstarot was standing beside Hannibal's bed. "What do you think you're doing? Throwing a fit even though we have everything under control!" she growled. "Do you have any idea how difficult it was to convince those fools to leave?"

Glaurung raised her head, blue eyes filled with fear. "D-demons! What if <i>he</i> is travelling with them? What if... he's come back to bring misery in his wake once more?" she whispered. "I'll never forget that demonic skull or those black eyes with dreadful, bottomless voids! W-when he advanced upon me and grinned like a m-monster and I could do nothing but scream as he r--"

The countess narrowed her eyes. "Nonsense. There's no connection between these interlopers and that man. Pull yourself together!"

Glaurung trembled. "I know we saw him fall to his death, Endoran. But I can't help but think every time I hear the word 'demon'... what if he survived? What if he's come to take <i>our</i> Hanny away from me?"

Endoran slapped Glaurung sharply across the face. Hannibal growled and bolted up in an instant, moving with surprising agility towards the ivory-skinned countess. However, Endoran merely flicked her wrist, and the young Losstarot suddenly froze in place.

"Be a dear and stay still while your mother and I have some girl talk," the countess hissed and turned to Glaurung. "Look at you, wench! I didn't stand by your side all these years and watch you grow more powerful only to see you reduced into a pathetic weakling when some shades of the past return! Stop looking in the past and start concentrating on the future! Remember the Losstarot motto: one vision, one purpose! I won't let you fall while we're so close to reaching the tomorrow we have sought for! Do you hear me?"

There was a knock on the door. "Commander, we've just received word from Captain Ripley that she has engaged the interlopers in battle," the voice of a guard said.

The cold gaze returned to Glaurung's beautiful eyes as she pushed the countess back. "Who do you think you're talking to? I <i>am</i> Master Losstarot, and no one orders me around," she hissed at her. "I'll deal with these nuisances myself. In the meantime you'll guard my son with your life. Am I understood?"

"That's more like it. That's the Glaurung I know," Endoran purred and bowed. "Your wish is my command. Hannibal will be safe with me."

Glaurung nodded and flicked her wrist, releasing Hannibal from the holding spell. "Be a good boy and get some sleep. I'll return shortly."

She left the room without waiting for reply and headed with her escorts towards the street where she felt the demonic auras coming from. She would make those bastards pay for interrupting her quiet evening with her son.

[Matthew]

"Back in MSC," said Rafe with a sigh. He dismounted and handed the reigns of his black mare to toothless old stable owner. He watched them go, and then pulled out the piece of paper Galeras had given him. To the untrained eye it looked like a shopping list, but it was really one of several codes used by Matheson operatives all over the world. The directions were as clear as day, and when he followed them he was surprised to find a restaurant. It was pretty dead inside, sleepy drunks nursing tasteless shite.

In the corner he spied what he assumed was the go-between, a blonde woman in a long sleeved and turtlenecked black dress. What gave her away was the white, feminine featured mask she wore concealing her face, a calling sign of a character known in the underworld as Faceless. Her masters were unknown, but generally thought of as powerful individuals. Rafe had also heard she had died, though.

The first thing he noticed when he sat in the booth was that this woman was much taller than him. The second was her falsetto voice, straining for a soprano as she greeted him.

"Rafe, I presume?"

"Um, yeah. You the job?"

"Oh my, no! You couldn't handle me, little boy."

This was followed by an exaggerated titter, and a large, hairy hand being placed on Rafe's. Am I being hazed, he thought.

"Um, yeah, hah hah, so what's the job?"

"My, right to the chase. I like that. My masters and yours have come to an understanding already, and it's just up to me to give you the details and keep an eye on you during the... oh, do you call it a hit?"

"Uh, yeah, but not usually in public."

"Oh, well then, we'll call it a kitten. Now this particular kitten is a feisty little number named Glaurung Losstarot, in Trinity Gask. You're to team up with the Matheson branch in Libaterra and... oh, kittens was it? Um, euthanize her. All gentle like."

Rafe could not tell if this was a joke. He leaned in close and lowered his voice considerably.

"You're talking about assassinating a world leader? And my boss is cool with this?"

"It will serve his interests, along with with many others'."

Rafe had almost balked when offered an measly hit after all he'd done for the Family in MSC not so long ago. But this... It was too much responsibility too soon.

"When do we start?" he said, instead of fleeing from the insanity.

"Immediately, dear. Your people will meet you in Trinity Gask, and my people have a boat with the right certificates to drop you right into Glaurung's lap practically."

This was real. Suddenly a surge of pride went through Rafe; only a made man could pull this off. And after he did? Hell, he might just be running this whole damn Family alongside Vesuvius and Galeras.

"Ok, let's get her done."

And the pair left the crummy restaurant.

[Aerith's knight]

Lynnea was staring at the fighting and the gore, when suddenly she got a wet feeling.. on her ankle.

"Why is my ankle covered in spit?", she questioned a little angry.

"Oh, my bad. I was chewing on it just now.", Ronove answered with a grin.

"Why were you chewing my ankle?"

"It was tasty."

"..."

A few minutes later Lynnea was walking away very fast in any direction far away from that guy. Unfortunately, that was nearly in the midst of battle. Several demon spawns were already converging on her.

"Alright! I'll show you guys what I can do.", Lynnea said confidently, grabbing her staff.

"Incendia ex aer , pulsos!", she chanted while aiming it at the first one's head. The demons almost went for the retreat until they noticed nothing happened.

"Eh?", the young mage suddenly exclaimed, while they demons now double times over to her.

"AAAAAAHHH!", she screamed, making a run for it, the demons seconds behind her, "Pulsos! Pulsos! Pulses!?", she screamed while pointing her wand in a random vector behind her, "Pulsis!? Pulsus!?-"

*BOOM*

She was nearly thrown forward at the explosion. Looking back there was only smoke, scarred rock, and kibble bits.

"Y-Yeah, that's what I thought.", she confidently said. But when she started walking she felt something was wrong. Looking down she saw a claw still hanging from her robe, burned to crisp beyond the grip.

2 minutes later Ronove saw her running by again, yelling:

"GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!"

Frankly, he couldn't understand why she was afraid of the snack meat.

------------------------------------------------------

Harrad was browsing the last of the books in section "Biological Warfare", looking for anything related. He knew quite well how it must've seen to an outsider, the way these books were arranged. Although he contributed much to this archive himself, most of the more.. exotic books came from the other council members, and on a more calm evening he would wonder where they got their research. The council had changed over the years, that much was certain.

"Ah, this one will do.", Harrad said as he pulled out 'Elf genetic structure and how to overcome it'. This and they other 5 books should keep them busy for a while, to be honest, he couldn't wait to sit and relax for a while.

"Not quite the reading I imagined though.", he chuckled to himself as he left the archive building. The building was seperated from the rest of the complex by a small garden. A ziggurat inside a ziggurat, as it were. Quite ingeniously, if not extravagantly, made. Harrad was lucky to have his chamber near the entrance, or it would've been quite a walk. Just as he started to near the entrance to the main complex a shockwave blasted him off his feet. The second most protected building tore itself apart into large pieces, launching into random directions.

"praemium , aer of vis", Harrad quickly shouted, his hands aiming at the large chunks of rock flying towards him. Small pinpricks of light surrounded them and they exploded into harmless dust. But too many were coming at him and too fast.

"Preamium! Preamium!- Ugh.", Harrad wheezed a fist sized rock hit him in the stomach. Wheezing for air, several carriage-sized pillars and window chunks were heading for his spot. A figure stepped in front of Harrad, and a white glimmer surrounded them as the impact shuddered the ground. Fire and rock, that was all that remained after the silence returned.

"Harrad! I head an explosion! Is everything-.. my god.", Walheim said shocked as he and several other mages, who immediately started to put of the fire, entered.

"What happened!?", Waldheim nearly shouted, coughing at the increasing amount of smoke.

"I'm.. not sure", Harrad admitted as small pulses of wind started to push apart the smoke in a semi-circle. As the smoke cleared, a rather smokey paladin stood dusting off his clothes.

"...Ho- Wh-.. N-Nesa?"

"Oh, hi guys.", Nesa said cheerfully, pulling bits of old nightstalker out of his cloak.

"How? When?", Waldheim stuttered, while Harrad still sat there dazed.

"Oh, you know, high plane, gods and all that. Can you guys point me to the restroom? I really need to go."

[Nic]

Doing what she did best, Vaetris blended into the shadows...and waited. She crossed her arms, looking slightly bemused as she watched the battle unfold in front of her. She showed no surprise as a cloaked, lithe figure moved silently to her side. "Natsumi," she said coolly. "You're getting better. I hardly noticed you following us."

"Thank you, Commander."

"Can't say the same for Signan, however."

Natsumi suppressed a smile. "I daresay his stealth was affected by his...jealousy, Commander."

Vaetris sighed. "Oh well. We're all here now, that's what matters. We should move soon, and take full advantage of the distraction Jono is providing."

The young Yamatian looked confused. "Jono? He's not...aiding us, is he?"

"Not intentionally, no. But he's serving his purpose, all the same."

Natsumi inhaled sharply as a brown-haired woman in elegant green armor ran past them, enraged and oblivious. "Is that--?"

"Hush," Vaetris breathed, silently drawing her daggers from their sheaths. "Get Jumahn and Signan. Tell them it's time."

-----------------------------------

Ax jerked, partly to avoid the rusty demon blade stabbing toward her head, but mostly to see what Refan was babbling about. "Rav--Ref...<I>Reven</I>? What is this, a fucking Grand Alliance reunion?"

The man turned to reply--and then a flash of white light blinded him. Suddenly he was facedown in the sand, sputtering and dazed, with Ax in a similar state nearby. She cursed as she rolled to her feet, brushing the sand from her eyes. She fumbled for her sword, still cursing...and then paused. All around her, comrades and demons alike were struggling to stand. There was an odd aura of magic lingering in the air. She shook herself and scrambled to the top of the wall, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she tried to make sense of the scene before her.

The demon colossus was...<I>gone</I>, and only a crater remained where it had been. Dead demons littered the ground for yards around the crater. The only sign of life was a blond man groaning in pain, his sword still glowing faintly in his hand. He was safe for the moment, but the demons closest to him were beginning to stir.

Ax didn't hesitate. She jumped to the ground, gritting her teeth as she landed heavily, ignoring the pain shooting up her legs. She half-ran, half-stumbled to Marcus and crouched at his side. "Never can miss a chance to play the hero, can you?" she grumbled. "Get off your ass, we've still got work to do!"

Marcus blinked. "Oh. Ax. Nice to...see you...here."

"Come on!" she cried. "Get up <I>now</I>, before they--oh, shit."

The demons had recovered. They closed in slowly, teeth gnashing, savoring the fear in the eyes of their prey. Ax hauled the dazed king to his feet and gripped her sword.

Marcus steadied himself, grinning sheepishly in spite of the situation. "So, Ax. Got a plan for this too?"

Ax bit her lip. "Well. As long as we kill them before they kill us, we should be fine."

[Matthew]

Azriel leaped off the walls of Vanna, the power of Tronin cushioning his fall, and used the momentum in his mace to behead a demon creeping upon Marcus. On the ground, he drew a scimitar in his offhand and joined the pair.

"My lady, would you and the gentleman like a hand?"

Before he could hear a response, his weapons glowed with Tronin's light, and the demons began closing in.

#

"They're bounty hunters, probably working for either the Northern or Western Hordes. The human looking leader is named Saleos, and-"

Powerful hands lifted him up by his shirt collar, and a dagger was against his throat. Jono took in the hateful scent of woman he had only just met, and on whose behalf he had left his friends in the Alliance.

"You led demons into my city!?"

"Losstarot, I didn't lead anyone anywhere. We evaded the demons days ago, and with our headstart and my experience losing demon trackers, there's no way they could have followed us here and laid a trap so quickly. This is foreknowledge they could only have gotten sometime after we met up with your men before entering the city. And those four one-eyed, big bastard beasties can't shapeshift, which tells me in order to get into Trinity Gask, Saleos had help from someone in the city itself. Something is rotten in your own fucking backyard, lady, and you're about to murder the one man in all of the Alliance that looked at your son and saw a scared little boy instead of a weapon to use against his bitch of a mother. Now cut the shit so we can sort this out together."

Machinebows were being loaded and aimed from all around him. Maybe bitch was too strong a word to have used.

[Aerith's knight]

Lynnea was standing still a little from the wall. She didn't know what happened just now, but the demon hand was gone and Ronove was walking away munching on something. Ignoring how the events tie together seemed the best way to go. She walked a little, until she saw an injured warrior sitting on the street, nursing a hand with 3 bitten off fingers, trying to bandage it up.

"Let me help you.", Lynnea offered with a smile as the warrior merely grunted in reply. What did Master Harrad say about healing again? Oh right, focus on the injury and how to fix it at all times.

Lynnea moved her staff along his hand and a soft purple glow was emitted along the wound.

"His fingers are gone. Stop the bleeding and add fingers. Add fingers. Add fingers.", she chanted in her head as flesh began to grow from the wound.

"There, done!", the purple eyed mage concluded with a bright smile and walked off to the next challenge.

"Hm, thanks-... Wait!", the warrior called after Lynnea, but she was too happy with herself to notice and rounded a corner.

"Wait! Why do I have 7 fingers!?"

"Yes, it sure has been a good day today.", Lynnea hummed contently to herself as she walked towards the grand wall.

----------------------------------------------------

Back in Harrad's chamber, Waldheim was by himself, pacing through the room with a mix of shocked, pensive and confused looks. And here the old mage was thinking he would get some peace and quiet in the most secure city of Libaterra. He grabbed a candy out of pure stress and put it in his mouth.

"Ugh.. Puru fruit.", he muttered to himself. The candy didn't help at all.

The door cracked slightly as Nesa walked in with a much more relieved expression.

"That's better."

"How is that better!? Where have you been!? What happened at the archives?", Waldheim asked in frustration.

"No welcome back, I suppose...", Nesa sighed with a grin, "It's.. a long story, I'll give you the small version."

---In the Council chamber---

"Harrad, did you see anyone when you left the Archives?", Trittledin said with a suspicious look, "Perhaps that old mage you let stay here?"

"We shouldn't blame it on him.", Gweneth said, "He had the most to gain from that library."

"I say we throw him out anyway."

"You can't do that without unanimous consent."

"You know, that's just what-"

"Quiet!", Jemuel said quietly, but with a voice that struck the room like thunder, "Let Harrad answer the question."

"I didn't see anything out of the ordinary, I'm afraid. I was balancing a few books.", Harrad said with a small but strong voice.

"Very well. Since this happened under your watch, you may lead the investigation. Report anything you learn to Richelieu."

"Very well, Lord Jemuel.", Harrad said in an emotionless voice and left the council chambers. The rest of the members slowly followed him

"That should keep him busy for a while, while we head towards our goal.", Richelieu said in a pensive tone.

"Indeed.", Jemuel consented when most of the members had left, "but I want the culprit found. You lead a separate investigation, Richelieu. I want this taken care of quickly and quietly."

"As you say, Lord Jemuel."

---Back in Harrad's chambers---

"And I was told I could find the Alliance group here by the guards. Security sure was a bit lacks, to be honest.", Nesa finished.

"I feel this might have some consequences for you at a later time, Nesa.", Waldheim commented as he laid a hand on his shoulder, "But.. it's good to have you back., Lady Rhylian has been fairly inconsistent since you disappeared."

"Rhylian? Is she alright? I need to see her. Is she still in Vanna?", Nesa panicked as the situation settled in. Memories started to come back from what he saw on the high plane. Hordes of Demons, waves upon waves.

"She transported to Vanna not long ago. I think they can-.", Waldheim was interrupted as Harrad walked in and locked the door, "What happened, Harrad?"

"I don't know yet, but I've been assigned to lead the investigation.", he sighed, "Did you get the books here?"

"Yes, we have 16 volumes here, the last of the archive, I'm afraid.", Waldheim said sadly.

"That should keep you busy while I investigate this... travesty."

"What if we don't find the information in there?"

"Then we'll have to go to Magestar, the only other library is there."

"Magestar?", Waldheim thought aloud, "That's on the other side of Yamato, how would we even get there?"

"Wait! Wait!", Nesa said as his head started to spin, "I don't want to go to Magestar!"

"Oh, I forgot. Where do you want to go then?", Harrad scrutinized the scrawny paladin in front of him. He was tired and just wanted to deal with this new twist as fast as possible.

"Vanna.", Waldheim answered immediately.

"Alright.", Harrad said as he started chanting.

"Huh? Wait. No, my lucky Bear-paw is still on the tabl-", was the last thing Nesa said as he vanished.

"...Dibs", Harrad chuckled as the silence set in.

"Barnacles!", Waldheim sighed in defeat.

[Dignified Pauper]

"... and that's everything that has happened in Remon since you left." Nymgrock said, finishing up on the battle at Remon during Stevenson's absense.

"That's ... You mean the country. There's nothing left?"

"There are pockets of people, many of them are walled in, and in some cities, they are held up in citadels, or they have built their own sectors to live. What about Maar Sul. What has happened here?"

Stevenson went on to inform Nym and Swenson about the Matheson's, a syndicated crime family who has been seizing underground control over different cities recently. While the officials had tried to keep the Matheson problem under cover, the populace knew about it already.

"So what are your plans from here, Elf?"

"I see nothing has changed..." Nymgrock glared. "We are trying to track down Marcus. But it seems that no one knows his where abouts."

"Hmmm. And Dylas is no where to be found."

"He's probably a zombie munching on the flesh of small children!" Swenson chimed in.

"..." Nymgrock and Stevenson both paused. They simply ignored the comment.

"Dylas was a pawn anyway. If he has survived, no doubt he is in hiding. What do you suggest we do, Stevenson?"

"Well, there's always Jardine. I hear there is a lot of information flowing in and out of the city, since there is a port there. I can probably muster up a boat pass for you to catch a ride further East. I have made some drinking buddies while stuck here."

"If you can have it for me tomorrow, we'll set out for Jardine to see where that leads us. What will you do?"

"This investigation still isn't over with the Glorianna mess, and seeing as I will need to tell officials what has happened in Remon, I think I'll be here a bit longer. Anyway, I'll get you your pass and bring it to you in the morning."

"Good. I'll have Swenson get it from you."

Why does he trust that bumbling idiot? "That's fine by me."

************************

Prescott A. Banks had created a small organized group of survivors in Sanae to go around fixing up the old houses of the abandoned lower sector. It was the least he could do to even begin to try to make up for all he had done.

[Kossage]

Bitch, eh? If only you knew the truth, Glaurung thought, smirking. She sheathed her dagger and released the blind warrior.

"It's resfreshing to hear honest opinions after having so many yes-people swarming everywhere. That woman, Vaetris, has a similar spark that you have, Jono Renfield," she muttered. "If the rest of the Alliance had been as open-minded and reasonable as you two, perhaps we could've avoided this conflict."

Ripley frowned. "You seem to know this Saleos from before, Mr. Renfield. A shapeshifter can be a dangerous opponent so you must let us know if he has any weaknesses that we can use against him." She looked at her companions. "It's troubling if Saleos has an inside man or woman within this city. It could be anyone and they might try to hinder us in this battle."

"We can worry about that later," Glaurung said in a stern tone and drew out her sword while her free hand began sparkling with magic. "It's time to teach these brutes a lesson they won't forget. And if possible, capture Saleos alive. The information he holds will be useful to us."

"Foolish humans, struggling even though your fall is inevitable? Can't we just settle this like gentlemen and be done with it?" the voice of Saleos echoed.

"That'd be swell except you've never been gentle to anyone, and you're certainly no man!" Jono replied.

"Still having a sharp tongue, I see!" Saleos chuckled. "Perhaps I'll cut it out. I doubt Duke Pazuzu will care whether you can actually speak once I've brought you to him."

"Don't think you can win this one, demon," Glaurung growled. "You've trespassed in my territory, caused damage to my property and hurt my people. Your kin once served Sydney, and soon you'll realize that it's dangerous to cross a Losstarot."

"Times have changed since then. With Lord Mardük dead, we can finally choose our own path! If our quest leads to the extinction of you lesser beings, so be it. There's no room in this world for the weak, anyway," Saleos stated coldly.

Ripley narrowed her eyes. "We'll see about that, monster! Men, ready your bows! It's time to put an end to this!"

#

"Damn that paladin and his cursed blade!" Distreyd Thanadar XIII hissed as he observed the battle of Vanna. "He has to be drawing power from Hephaestus himself to be able to cut the Dominator down!"

Flavius Severus lowered his spyglass and frowned. "That blade is none other than Dusk, and its wielder is Marcus Sarillius. I've faced him before, and he's a skilled opponent. We've finally met a worthy foe."

"Not only that, but his forces got new allies, too," Nobuo Iwasaki muttered. "I could recognize the Akai Tora and the Forgotten anywhere, and they were accompanied by some lizardmen and Aisonian knights. I'll order our men to--"

"You'll do nothing," the voice of Dreadlord Leraje Thanadar said. "If Sarillius does hold the power of a god, we need to regroup and revise our strategy. Flavius, I trust you'll have your toy ready for action?"

Flavius bowed. "Say the word, and I'll unleash the Helepolis. It'll leave nothing in its wake."

"But what about the remnants of the second legion? They won't last long!" Iwasaki gasped. "We should help--"

Leraje narrowed his eyes. "No. They doomed themselves to their deaths the moment they failed me. I do <i>not</i> tolerate weaklings in my army. Do I make myself clear?"

Iwasaki glanced one more time at the walls of Vanna and sighed. "Your wish is my command."

"Good," the Dreadlord growled. "Let those foolish lesser beings enjoy their victory while they still can. Soon they'll face the full might of the Northern Horde!"

[The Last Oath]

The hell is all that noise, Briss thought with increased frustration as he tried to practice his sword form at the inn. He walked over to the window to inspect and found himself sharply ducking, avoiding an arrow that crashed through the glass.

Upon rising his head Briss thought for a moment that he was back in Vulpengaard Keep, demons raged everywhere in the city. He clutched his two butterfly swords firmly and ran down, for the mother of his unborn child was in danger.

*

"Enjoy your last moments of breath, human." A demon held his blade to the innkeepers throat until he felt a sharp pain in his back, falling to his knees as his head was removed.

"The fuck is going on?" The confused Briss asked the whimpering innkeeper.

"Their attacking us! Demons!"

Realising the poor man was in shock, Briss exited the inn and jogged to Trinity Gask's main courtyard, engaging demons on the way. Tiyana was at the Witch Elves inn which lay on the other side of the city. He started to run faster, lighting up his blades with fire-

"Oh, I know who that is!"

Briss turned his head in the direction of the familiar voice.

"I can smell burning steel that isnt really melting a mile away!" Jono Renfield shouted at the Mystic Knight.

He caught up to the blind warrior, just a few steps away none other than Glaurung herself. "We got a situation on our hands uh." Briss said, feeling the camradiere of the alliance beginning to burn again.

"You better be prepared, traitor."

[Matthew]

Jono Renfield, Yamato revolutionary and demonslayer, stood in front of Glaurung Losstarot, Briss Phoenixheart and an escort of S-Class Mullencamp. What a time to be off powdering your lovely little nose, thought Renfield of Vaetris.

With an exaggerated dancer's flourish, he felt out the scene. Two of the one-eyes were running amok as a result of their extremely severe burns, moving from building to building just frightening locals mostly. The scent of them reminded Jono of an unpleasant winter trapped on Mt. Urasawa with some of the boys of Akai Tora, and nothing to eat but a pursuing demon regiment.

Saleos was more than holding his own against the Mullecamps already combating the demons, the arrows being batted aside like flies, and the commandos' blades breaking easily against his legendary demon-forged bloodsteel katana or its wakizashi mate. The makers, and their swords' original names, were lost to history, but Saleos himself called them Rage and Lust. The bounty hunter had once described them as gifts, but Jono suspected he had plucked them off the corpse of someone in the demon elite. Saleos could fight well enough with these mighty weapons, but seldom fairly, and was little more than a well-regarded pet in the demon hierarchy.

The remaining two demons weren't fairing as well, the injured one being swarmed and picked off bit by bit by the commandos. Its uninjured mate was fighting at its peak, but without the skill and precision of its swordsman master. Commandos connected with arrows and blades, making their way slowly through its hide. Somewhere behind the nearest buildings Jono could smell Ripley's boys preparing another trap. He wondered what it could be now that their own movements blocked the way for more of their "grenades".

"Ok, I'm going after Saleos. He needs to be taken alive because we need someone to talk to about who is working with these bastards, and the other four will only be able to speak Infernal."

"Why?" said Briss.

"Bred to be too stupid to learn anything else. Now, everyone else, please either catch the two runners, or finish off its mates between me and Sally. For future reference, Saleos is a swordsman(or is it swordsdemon?) of some skill with psychedelic drugs running through his veins, and the one-eyed guys have bastard tough skin, a green eye that's make you sick if they stare too long at you, and likely poisoned weapons. Have fun!"

The blind swordsman punctuated his last exclamation by charging in, a grin on his face and his hand on the handle of his katana. That tricky bastard Saleos was finally going to fight Jono on even ground. It was unfortunate he couldn't kill the bastard on top of it.

[Kossage]

The remaining demons near the walls snarled and prepared to attack Azriel, Ax and Marcus. Their snarls were cut short when their bodies were engulfed in flames which consumed them in an eyeblink. The three warriors turned to look at the source of the flames and saw a lithe figure in a crimson cloak atop a black stallion. The figure pointed at the hole in the wall.

The signal was clear, and the three quickly ran into the city, followed by the Yamatian warriors and red-cloaked mages. Once everyone was safely inside, the mages cast a protective barrier on the hole to prevent anyone else from getting in. The enemy horde stayed still on a nearby dune, so the city was safe for the time being.

Khalid walked down the ramparts, wiping sweat from his chiseled face. "I suppose we should thank you for your timely arrival and assistance. But who exactly are you?"

The Aisonian commander flashed a smile as he saluted. "Lieutenant Commander Garrel Isen of the Blades of Lysse at your service!"

"More Blades? Well, that's swell, I guess," Marcus sighed, sitting down. He was still trying to recover from his recent stunt. "I don't know why you're accompanied by Yamatians, though. I thought they were working <i>for</i> the demons?"

"Not quite. We represent the Akai Tora, a force you should be familiar with, and the Forgotten. Unlike some of our countrymen, we refused to serve demons. I'm Alathor, the high cleric of my people," the crimson mage said. "We were originally tracking movements of the Northern Horde after we'd seen their main force moving towards Libaterra. We met with your lizardmen allies and heard what was transpiring, so we followed them here."

Marcus's eyes grew wide. "But that magic I sensed...you're using chaos as the source of your power! Which means--"

"You're only half correct. The Forgotten worship Mardük but they're not working for the <i>actual</i> clergy of Mardük which they see as their lost brethren. Think of these guys as a splinter faction. Not that it makes them any less villainous, though," a deep voice grunted, and Khasra appeared with his group.

Alathor smiled under his hood. "It's good to see you once again, Chaos Knight. I trust you've put Morninglight to good use?"

Khasra put his hand on the hilt of his sword. "I'd prefer if you stopped calling me that. I have nothing to do with bastard gods like Mardük. And I still haven't forgotten how you almost executed us back in Vulpengaard Keep."

"It was your fault to begin with," Alathor commented. "We offered you a sanctuary, helped you in your struggle...and in response you tried to kill Hiroshi Takamoto, Shogun of the Akai Tora. The Akai Tora your Alliance knew back in the Great War have changed, that's for certain, but it doesn't mean you have to view us as enemies. But this is a matter we must postpone for now because demons are a greater threat to us at the moment."

"Indeed. With their rightful lord Mardük dead, the demons have lost their purpose and are doing whatever they please. They must be stopped before they destroy Libaterra," a dark-bearded man said.

Refan's eyes grew wide. "What? Is that your big brother or something, Leon?"

"He's Taliesin, my mentor, and he'll be helping us. It's a bit complicated so I'd prefer if you just ignored our resemblance for the time being," Leon sighed. "We've returned from Alent to make sure that Dawn and Dusk won't fall into the wrong hands. We'll need both of those blades as well as my Silver Branch to put an end to the Blood Fever. The Council of Mages will be waiting for us once we've--"

"Umm, about that...Ax doesn't have Dawn anymore," Refan muttered. "It was kind of stolen from her."

Leon froze in place. "I really hope you're not serious."

Khalid frowned. "I'm afraid it's true. The thief is still on the loose. It's even possible they used the recent battle to their advantage to leave the city unnoticed."

"Well, that's just facking great!" Khasra growled and shook his leg. "And will you stop gnawing at my knee for Hephaestus's sake?"

"But it looked so tasty!" Ronove protested, reluctantly letting go.

[Aerith's knight]

A soft glow lit the street as Nesa appeared in the dusty city of Vanna. All seemed quiet, but something was wrong. Nesa frowned at the impossible high wall in front of him. Not to mention all those people walking sideways on it.

Ah, that was it, he was standing on a wall himself, his entire body rotated 90 degrees, how silly... wait-.

*CRASH*

"IIIIIIIIIEEEK!.", Lynnea screamed as a pale elf fell on top of her. And here her day was going so well. Nesa on the other hand, fell into something soft and white and smelled good. It took a few seconds to register what happened to both people.

"..."

"..."

"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE", Lynnea screamed as she covered herself

"Oh Cardia, It was a mistake. I-", was all Nesa could get out before he was blown against a wall and was getting pummeled by tiny fists of steel.

"How could you!? Now I can't get married!", Lynnea cried as she cracked several ribs. What was this girl made from? Titanium? It took 5 minutes of more hurt than he'd taken in a long while before this crazy person in front of him calmed down, or for better word, got tired.

*sniff* "You'd better take responsibility."

"Yes, of course.. No, wait- I can't.", Nesa said with a desperate look in his face. But before he could explain himself, the sobbing stopped and changed into a look only Omaroch had seen once before.

------------

Three streets down, Ronove was walking after he'd been send away for trying to eat limbs. Injustice everywhere. When suddenly he heard a scream of pain so loud it reminded him of the old days with Yorick.

*sniff*

Hmm, what was that smell again?

*sniff* *sniff*

CAKE! Ronove stopped as he began to analyze this new data.

Cake + Scream = A-cake-olypse!

------------------

Back at the unhappy couple Nesa was seriously starting to fear for his life. He was glad half of her spells didn't even work, or he'd have been dead by now. Not being able to take it anymore, he shielded himself and started to heal the worst injuries. the moment he began, the barrage stopped.

"You're a white mage? That's so great. You know, I've-", Lynnea started to rattle on, the whole ordeal forgotten. While Nesa was trying to figure out if she had some sort of disorder or if she just had that much of a temper, a sniffing sound was starting to get closer.

*sniff* *sniff*

Like a dog following a trail, Ronove was following the ground and walls, heading towards Nesa.

"Poor cake. Come here, papa Ronove will save you from the looters.", Ronove muttered as he neared the source. Lynnea was looking a bit incredulous as Ronove started to go through Nesa's pants, picking out a piece of cake, as Nesa just sat there with a smile, as if it was normal.

"Found it! Wait.. this look familiar, it's the emergency ration of cake I hid in Nesa's pants.", Ronove thought aloud as he stared intently at the cake.

"That must mean.. YOU STOLE NESA'S PANTS!", Ronove screamed as he threw a skull at Nesa's head.

"I AM NESA, YOU DUNCE!"

"Oh..."

"..."

"NESA!", Ronove finally screamed in happiness as he hugged his long time friend.

"Are you serious?", Lynnea finally asked with raised eyebrows.

"Ronove, so glad you're ok. Where is Rhylian, is she still here.", Nesa smiled as he started to have problems breathing.

"Oh yeah, she back there somewhere, talking and all that boring stuff."

"Who's Rhylian?", Lynnea asked with mistrusting eyes.

"Oh, his hmm, fincee. No, his fancy. His hmm.. big word that you marry eventually.", Ronove said absentmindedly, trying to decide what to look at, the cake or his friend.

"You dared to touch me like that was as an engaged man? Have you no shame?", Lynnea nearly screamed in anger.

"OH! OH! Did he do the threesome thing again?", Ronove burst out in joy of adding to the conversation. It was 10 minutes before Nesa woke up in extreme pain. After an apology and some more cake to keep Ronove quiet he finally got to ask another question.

"What about Ax and Kaisa?"

"That reminds me. I'll show that stupid girl that I have cake now, and she hasn't.", Ronove said in glee as he ran away again.

Ten minutes later the heroes saw Ronove running past them with a few pieces of cake, held out proudly in front of him, continued by a very loud "HA!" from the building nearby.

[Matthew]

Saleos met his prey halfway, cornering him on the slipshod rooftop of a human dwelling. He had never before been this close to the Mad Mole, the man who had so many of his employers shaking in their hooves. No, the swordsman had never been a priority. Instead their encounters had always been vignettes filled with megalomaniac speeches from his end, and jests from Renfield.

"In a way, it's almost romantic we come together like this, Renfield."

"Those better be flowers in your pants then, Fella."

Saleos erupted in a genuine chuckle. He was as crazy as they say. What did he think he could accomplish against a full-blooded demon?

"You and me, we were supposed to do this for years, until your pathetic race was finally exterminated. You can't imagine my sorrow at learning that you challenged Duke Pazuzu to a duel, and it would all end so abruptly. And even worse, you ran? Had we misjudged you all this time?"

The blindfolded swordsman shifted his weight, a hand hovering over his sword handle.

"Oh, don't be premature, I want to make this last."

"No, no, continue. I'm just strategizing."

"Hah, you, strategy? You forget, I know you, Jono. I've followed your career with interest. I've been present in some of the more dramatic moments."

"And I you. Well, not so much with the following, or interest. But I hear things. How was it like when the Yamatian Invasion turned you from a big fish in a demonless world to a Hordeless runt?"

"You wound me, Jono."

"Not yet."

"Hah! Now tell me, why did you run, Jono? Did you bite off more than you could chew with the duke?"

"If you must know, someone interfered. But in a way, I'm grateful. It gave me time to think. When I challenged Pazuzu, I wasn't in a very good place."

"Oh? And now, you're in a good place?"

The man grinned.

"The best, Sally, old buddy."

And he followed this by quickly drawing his blade and in a run, slashing at the roof. Saleos had time to think that the blind bastard had missed before the boards below collapsed, sending him spiraling and crashing through many warehouse boxes full of stoneware, silverware and other kitchen accessories. His last glance of Jono was the slippery bastard standing unfazed on a support beam.

#

When Jono had heard the last crashing noise, he knew he didn't have long to take advantage of this momentary setback. The demon bounty hunter wouldn't allow any more cute tricks. With luck, he would be separated from his weapons.

Like a cat, Jono jumped his way down, spring-boarding off debris until landing softly on the dirt floor. Feeling he had landed on something with his foot, he grabbed and found the handle of the demon's knife. Halfway there, he thought. Then a pot flew at his head.

With a roll, he found himself suddenly kneeling and blocking the demoniac steel of Saleos' katana with both his weapon and the pilfered knife.

"That was rude, Mad Mole."

"Sorry, my mom spoiled me. No manners to speak of as a result."

Raising the blades over his head, Jono positioned himself so he could roll through the demon's legs, slashing his ankles on the way. He wasn't on his feet again long, though, before the demon manned up and was slashing at him with the speedy slashes that had dispatched so many Mullencamps moments ago. Jono employed evasive maneuvers, hearing the rage boiling in Sally with every dodge, duck, jump, bob and weave.

Fed up with being on the defensive, Jono concentrated on the rhythm of the blows, searching openings in the attack with his senses. Eventually he found the sweet spot and decided to return the demon's knife, shoving it deep into his enemy's side, between the ribs. A roar shook more kitchenware off the walls, and Jono was running to get some space to get into attack form with his katana.

Turning, he was in time to meet Saleos' weapon again with his own. Foul and brackish demon blood gushed hotly into his face, and the formally amiable and congenial foe was screaming curses in Infernal. He had apparently pissed the old boy off, which fortunately was exactly what Naamah had told him to do if ever this situation should present itself. It was well known in his demon lover's circles that Saleos was dangerous when allowed to plan, or attack a situation with enough forethought and detached calm. But he also had a temper, one that had led him to storm off and find residency among humans in the first place, and one that often blinded him in the heat of battle. Jono took his chance.

He started by turning up his own sword strikes, his offense matching every clumsy, if still powerful and speedy, blow from his opponent. When an opening was had, he ripped the knife from Saleos' wound and drove it into his left eye. He did not let the screaming and retaliatory blows drive him away, though. Instead he caught the impossibly sharp sword right through his left shoulder, and used his own the chop off the offending arm.

Before the limb could fall to the ground, taking the bloodsteel katana painfully with it, Saleos jumped on Jono in a rage and tried to claw with his remaining hand, even biting at Jono's cheek. In a rage of his own, Jono shoved the demon off and drove the flat of his katana repeatedly into Saleos' skull. After several minutes he stopped, and realized the bounty hunter was out cold. He checked his arm and winced, checked his face and realized his blindfold had fallen off somewhere. Footsteps finally entered the warehouse.

"Mullencamps?"

"Yes sir."

Putting up his own sword, he also collected his opponent's weapons, pulling the knife out of Saleos' eye with a spray of more demon blood and putting it in his belt. The bloodsteel katana he simply propped over his uninjured shoulder, and got then he up to leave.

"He's unconscious now, but I still wouldn't take any chances. And do point me toward the action, I've gotten all turned around in this somehow."

As he found his bearings, the swordsman couldn't help but wonder how the others were fairing.

[Kossage]

Glaurung grinned as her blade connected with demonflesh. Before the beast could counterattack, she hit it with a fireball and attacked again in the ensuing confusion.

"Holy fack! She's taking on that monster all by herself!" Fonzie gasped, marvelling and dreading the power which the Losstarot warlady possessed. He observed the streets which had now become a battlefield. Briss and the Mullencamp were harrassing one of the one-eyed demons which was weakened by its deep wounds. The beasts were certainly tough but even they couldn't last much longer.

"Chop the head off! That's a sure way to kill it!" Briss instructed, slashing his sword with precise movements to block the demon's attack while Ripley did her best to move behind the beast.

Fonzie grimaced and leaped at the demon, stabbing its eye before the creature hurled him off. This gave just enough time for Briss and Ripley to work together, and the Mullencamp captain tackled the beast while Briss decapitated it with one clean swing.

The remaining demon growled--or did it whimper?--as it saw its mate fall. It turned its one blazing eye at Glaurung and bared its teeth.

"You have only yourself to blame. Your biggest mistake was coming here thinking I'd let you leave unpunished!" the female knight hissed and blasted the demon's face with a freezing orb and then stabbed the creature through the heart. "Looks like this is another vulnerable spot. I'll keep that in mind."

Ripley frowned as she cleaned her blade. "I was expecting a bit more. These bastards sure are tough enough, but the tales I've heard of them..."

"Oh, this is Khasra's doing," Briss said and continued when he saw the puzzled looks around him. "A group I was a member of travelled to Yamato some time ago and fought in Vulpengaard Keep. The demons could regenerate quickly but my comrade Khasra did something which slowed down the demons' regeneration quite a bit. These monsters still shouldn't be underestimated, though, even if they've lost one of their advantages over us."

"I think my brain just exploded," Fonzie muttered. "Too much bloodshed for one night."

They were joined by Jono and a pair of Mullencamp who were carrying the unconscious Saleos. "I'd suggest you take prince charming here somewhere safe before he decides to bust a move," the blind swordsman said.

"Take him to the Temple of the Unknown God. I know the magics that dwell within it well, and they'll keep Saleos in a weakened state. We'll interrogate him tomorrow," Glaurung instructed and turned to Briss and Jono. "I thank you for your help. It seems not every Alliance member is incompetent, after all. I suggest you get some sleep; it's been a rough day for all of us." She prepared to leave when Ripley's concerned gaze stopped her.

"I'm going to need all my men and your escorts to take Saleos to the temple, Ma'am. Are you sure you'll be alright by yourself?" the Mullencamp captain asked.

Glaurung smiled. "I'm Master Losstarot, and this is <i>my</i> city. I'm sure it can't throw anything worse at me than these slobbering beasts," she replied, and the Mullencamp chuckled in response. "And besides..where else can the future monarch of Libaterra be safe if it isn't her capital?" She left the scene, heading back to her manor while the Mullencamp began walking towards the temple.

"So, what's this temple thing about, anyway?" Fonzie asked.

"The Temple of the Unknown God is a church set up for the worship of any god. It makes sense to me: why do the gods need separate temples when all can be worshipped in the same place? The temple's been around since the Rebels first built this city, and we haven't felt the need to change that. The different divine magics that dwell within should be enough to keep a beast of chaos like Saleos weak," Ripley explained. "Commander Losstarot knows the power of the temple well, and I won't question her: after all, she once had a vision there which helped her become the leader she is today. That's good enough for me."

Fonzie rolled his eyes as Ripley and the Mullencamp left with their demonic prisoner. He yawned and turned to Jono and Briss. "So, do you guys know any inn where I could rest for a while?"

[Kossage]

Varalia smiled as she snatched the keys from a dead guard. Time was running out so she had to move quickly.

So far everything had proceeded exactly as the Master had foreseen, but there was still one more thing to do before she would contact the Vulfsatz in the Alentian dungeon.

She headed for the room where Jonathan Ferron was staying at.

#

"Leon, may I have a word?" Refan asked while he was cleaning up his bloodstained Emerald Blade.

The bard mustered a smile on his aging face. "Certainly. What do you have in mind?"

"There's something I should've told you the last time we met, but I was too busy restoring Khalid to the throne of this wretched city that I kind of forgot." His eyes met Leon's, and he hesitated a bit before continuing. "Before we travelled here, we were on a mission in some ruined city in Remon to rescue Marcus from Xerathas."

"Yes, Ax told me about it," Leon stated. "If the gods Hephaestus and Shakkan hadn't aided you back then, who knows what would've happened. I don't see why you'd have to talk about it now, though."

Refan frowned. "There's more to it than that. The elf whom Shakkan possessed in the Ruined Kingdom was Mori'sul Agara. Yeah, the same guy who led our group years ago. He gave his life to help us escape. Before he perished, he asked me to tell you that he was sorry about executing your friend, Dorças Luchester. He also said that he wasn't seeking your forgiveness; he just wanted you to understand that the clergy of Mardük manipulated him to do such horrible things."

"I see," the bard responded quietly. "I remember it clearly. I thought he had gone mad with power, and his betrayal hurt me. However, it gives me some consolation to know that he redeemed himself before the end. Thank you for telling me."

"I promised him, and I always keep my promises. Now we're facing such terrible odds...we might not even live to see tomorrow if the demons renew their attack so I had to let you know before it's too late. Marcus holds great power, but I doubt even he can destroy an entire army even with our new allies on his side." Refan narrowed his eyes. "Speaking of allies, I don't like these Forgotten. They reek of dark magic, and even if they work for the Akai Tora, I can't help but see them as schemers. Secondly, my sword glows whenever I'm near that person you call Taliesin. Your mentor or not, he creeps me out. My sword always glows when dark forces are present so that gives me yet another reason to suspect him."

Leon placed his hand on the dark-haired man's shoulder. "I'm not comfortable with it either, but we'll need all the help we can get. The Forgotten and Akai Tora might have dubious motives and may distrust us, but they don't want Vanna to fall so we can trust them to aid us in any way they can. As for my mentor, he surely has his own reasons for helping us, but we definitely need his powers. You know that as well as I do."

"That may be so, but it doesn't mean I can trust him. There's also another thing that bugs me. You were once a half-god, so you understand what it feels like to be a...half-breed. Ever since the demon army got here, I've felt my demonic side growing stronger as it reacts to their presence." Refan sighed, burying his head in his hands. "Even when my demonic side took over and tried to rape Ax, the sensation wasn't <i>this</i> strong. The last time I felt the same was when I dueled with Zarnagon in Myridia, and that almost cost me my life. I...oh gods, I'm scared, Leon. Sooner or later I'll be forced to rely on my demonic side, but what if I can't change back? What if that darkness within takes over me...permanently?"

The bard smiled knowingly. "When I first took a kestrel form, I couldn't change back. I was scared that I'd stay in that form forever. It wasn't until I learned that there was power in paradox that I came to understand that within the deepest darkness exists a ray of hope. Trust in yourself, Refan. That's the best advice I can give you."

Refan raised his head and nodded. "Thanks. I shouldn't bother you with this stuff when you have more important things to worry about, but I feel like you're the only one who truly understands what it feels like to be...different from the others. Sometimes I feel like the legacy I carry is too heavy for me."

Leon's eyes narrowed. "Speaking of legacy, I met your father Omaroch while I was in Alent. I thought you'd want to know that he was doing fine and was concerned about you. He said he'd teleport here."

"Oh? But if he teleported first, shouldn't he be here by now?" Refan gasped. "What if...something has happened to him?"

"So, you do care about him?" the bard inquired. "I thought you didn't want to accompany us to Alent because you wanted to avoid him."

Refan blushed. "It's...complicated. He's done awful things to me and my brother...manipulated us while working for Mardük...but he's <i>still</i> my father. I hope he's alright wherever he is."

#

The air near Kageshima rippled, and Omaroch appeared from a portal. He coughed and looked around. He had slightly miscalculated the teleportation spell so he had landed off course. Luckily the demon capital of Yamato was nearby so he would reach it in no time.

He sniffed the air and smiled. Dark clouds were gathering on the horizon; another storm was coming. It meant that there would be less demon patrols to worry about because even demons preferred to stay inside when it was raining. This would make his work easier. Besides, no one would suspect him to appear here after all these years, so he had the element of surprise on his side.

Omaroch felt a pang of regret as he headed for the demon capital. He really should've gone to Vanna to help the others and to meet with his son and student. However, things had changed radically in these past few days, and he knew he had to act fast. There was no point in risking the lives of any of the Alentian councillors or members of the Alliance. It was better to work alone; it meant less people to worry about once things got rough.

He sighed and proceeded through the grassland with grim determination. It was time to finish the mission which he had postponed for far too long.

The next chapter can be found HERE (http://www.thegamersalliance.net/forums/showthread.php?t=667).