—— ? ——
WHAM!
Maelis’s body slammed into the metal box, the sound like a thunderclap. Kurda had pounded across the courtyard, then tackled the Yoreboon several feet until he impacted the metal.
The metal wall warped under the impact, forming a Maelis-sized indentation.
“What ave’ yer’ done!” Kurda screamed into the dazed smith’s face. “Yer shit flecked waste of flesh!”
Kurda hauled back, pulling the Yoreboon by his armored shirt. He straightened and lifted the blinking councilor right to his face.
“Yer’”
WHAM! Kurda slammed the man into the metal, then pulled him back again.
“collapsed mai’ tunnel.”
WHAM!
“on.”
WHAM!
“INNOCENT PEOPLE!” Kurda roared.
WHAM!
Tears streaked down the big man’s face as he pummeled Maelis into the metal.
Kurda paused, a sob escaping from his throat.
The Thurgen’s haunted face turned slowly to the settling cloud of dust. His shattered face twisted into fury as his neck snapped, his face turning to councilor Maelis.
“How could yer’ do this? How many have yer’ killled?”
A gurgling cackle escaped the smith's throat as his dazed eyes focused. He met Kurda’s eyes, his face covered in a wild grin.
“Thirteen,” Maelis cackled. “Soon to be fourteen.”
WHAM!
Kurda screamed. No words, just the unrestrained sound of rage and sadness.
He held the smith against the metal with one hand. Kurda balled his other fist and pulled it back. The Thurgen rained blow after blow into the Yoreboon’s face.
Maelis just continued to cackle, blood dribbling out of his mouth.
Kurda’s fist was slick with blood as he slammed it over and over.
The next blow from him hit the smith on the side of his face.
A new sound joined the carnage, as a clatter of metal tinged off the stone.
Kurda was momentarily distracted, his eyes glancing down.
There on the ground, a flat, bloody plate lay. It was dented and warped, but was still recognizable.
A mask.
Kurda’s eyes widened as they snapped back to Maelis.
What stared back was not the face of Maelis, the Councilor, and Smith.
It was raw. Ruined. Disgusting.
His skin was a sickly pink, a patchwork of scar tissue that looked as though it had been stripped away then forced to grow back. Set directly into the bones of his face were metal posts, evenly spaced.
They protruded from his cheeks, brow, and jaw. Anchor points for his mask, now slick with blood.
His lips were fused into a single malformed ridge, barely capable of showing emotion. His eyelids did not move. They could not. Scar tissue locked them open, leaving his eyes permanently exposed. Unblinking and unflinching.
That stare drilled into Kurda.
Not the stare of some slimy politician, or thief.
This was the true Maelis. Unhinged, raw, and ruined.
Kurda pulled his head back, his hand grasping the smith still strong, but shaking.
“What der’..”
Maelis tilted his head, his malformed lips cracking open to show hideous teeth. Metal posts were mounted on each, sharp and brutal. Attachment points for the lips and teeth of his mask.
“I guess I don’t need that anymore.” He cackled.
“YOU!”
A voice exploded from behind Kurda. He glanced back to see Dravlen’s face twisted in horrific recognition.
“Yes, me.” Maelis hissed.
“The Metal Maniac.” Dravlen hissed. “You should be rotting in the depths of a hellish hold. How are you here?”
“I was moved to this world like everyone else.” Maelis laughed, air hissing through the open holes in his face that acted as nostrils. “Did you never stop to think about it?”
His wild eyes moved between the two.
“Years of torment and misery. Years of being denied my pleasures.” A stubby tongue flicked out, sliding along the metal posts of his teeth. “But fate itself reached down and released me.”
His eyes locked onto Dravlen. “It's a whole new world, Dravlen. A world filled with all-new kinds of flesh toys to play with. Aren’t you excited?”
Kurda shook, rage and confusion warring inside him.
“But, aren’t you all forgetting something?” Maelis tsked at them. “Do you really have the time to be playing with me?”
Kurda and Dravlen’s eyes snapped to the air as they pulled their timers up.
Time until event: 0h 2m 41s…
Kurda’s eyes snapped back to Maelis. His balled fist opened and then shot forward.
Maelis inhaled sharply, the sound haggard and wheezing as the Thurgen’s hand closed around his throat.
“Er’ have enough time ter’ finish this,” Kurda growled. The muscles on his hand bulged as his fingers tightened, and Maelis’s eyes bulged. The smith’s feet kicked out uselessly as Kurda leaned in.
“Go back to der’ hell yer’ came from.”
Maelis wheezed.
Then his panicked expression faded. His eyes that had been rolling back into his head snapped forward.
Pink skin around his mouth twisted into a smile.
Sick green black energy pulsed through his body, and he fell backwards. Kurda reacted instantly, releasing his grip and letting his legs give out under him. Two massive spikes of metal lanced forward so fast that Kurda could feel the wind blow past the top of his head.
The big man shoved with his hands the moment they hit the stone. Metal on stone screeched as another spike stabbed into the spot Kurda had just been.
The stone mason rolled away, then leapt to his feet.
Where he had been standing, two spikes protruded through the space. Right where the Thurgen’s eyes had been. A third stabbed into the ground where he had fallen to in his dodge.
Maelis was nowhere to be seen.
“Ha ha ha ha ha ha!” strange laughter came from the box. It rang against the walls of the structure and filtered out through an opening that was blocked with crisscrossing spikes.
From the darkness of the opening, a face emerged.
Maelis’s tongue danced across his teeth as he gave them a horrific ‘oh no!’ expression.
“Tick tok little wormssss” He hissed from within the structure. “My master’s army is almost hereeeeee” his voice floated out in a sing-song mockery.
“You’re welcome to stay and playyyyyyyyy.” Maelis continued. “I can’t wait for you to meet my new friends.”
Kurda clenched his fists and took a step.
“Stop.” Dravlen snarled. He himself had taken a step forward before catching himself. “We need to go Kurda. Right now. Retreat to Varnholt.”
Without another word, Dravlen stepped and vanished. Seconds later, his voice blasted out from near the tunnel.
“MOVE! BACK TO VARNHOLT. NOW NOW NOW!”
Kurda shifted his eyes back to the caged madman.
“Are you going to play with me?” Maelis grinned, his melted lips smacking together.
“Yer’ going to pay. I swear it.” Kurda snapped, then turned and burned as he sprinted toward the tunnel.
—— ? ——
Maelis watched Kurda dash away, his face falling.
“Awwwwwwww.” He pouted. “I was having so much fun.”
His shoulders moved up into a shrug. “Oh well, I’ll play with that one later. I’m sure my master will let me cut into him. That Thurgen is so stout, I’m sure he can regenerate after I play with his flesh.” His eyes widened as a thought occurred to him.
“Oh myyyyyy. I didn’t even think about that! With all the healing in this world, I have so many new things to try.” insane cackling laughter escaped his melted face. “So many possibilities.”
He watched as panicked Varnholters sprinted out from the courtyard, back towards town.
Maelis really wanted to chase after them. Some of those Frost-kin looked like so much fun to toy with.
“Patience.” He told himself. “It’s time to play the waiting game.”
The smith rolled his sore shoulders. That monster of a being had nearly knocked him unconscious. The moron hadn’t used any skills either.
He licked the metal on his teeth again. Maelis reached into a pouch at his side, his fingers sliding into a hidden pocket. Cold metal greeted his fingers as they curled around the metal token.
He pulled it out and stared at it lovingly. The dark, smooth metal disk had been the first thing he had made in this new world. A divine instruction from his master. His eyes traced the etched-out image.
Two hands interlocked in prayer surrounded by flames. They were strong hands, the muscles on them defined and bulging. Surrounding them were chains that descended from the top of the coin. The divine chains curled around the praying hands, restraining and guiding them. They were connected in the image to the sky above and were pulled taut.
The perfect representation of his god’s will. Restrained, directed, but at the same time, directly connected to their master.
It was perfect.
His eyes glanced to the air, and he made the timer appear.
Time until event: 0h 1m 21s…
Cackling laughter echoed through the courtyard, mixing with the screams of terror and pounding of footsteps as people fled.
It was going to be a good day.
Time until event: 0h 0m 4s… 0h 0m 3s… 0h 0m 2s… 0h 0m 1s.. 0h 0m 0s…
The sound of a war horn echoed throughout the nameless span.
The 25th system event had begun.
—— ? ——
—- AREA NOTICE—-
> TIMER EXPIRED - STARTING EVENT.
> Location: Town of New Beginnings.
Conflict is inevitable. Strength is forged. Limits are conquered.
Good luck.
——————————
The portal in the gorge snapped into life, illuminating the trees that stood watch overhead.
A booted foot emerged, followed by a hulking green-scaled body. The figure’s head was already moving left to right as they crossed the portal's threshold, their yellow slitted eyes searching.
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Its eyes stopped as it spotted the other person. A tall, broad-shouldered, muscular being with pale white skin flecked with gold. He had short golden hair that was tinted white like frost. He stood several paces away, standing between the portal and the exit from the gorge. On either side, two golden rapiers stood upright, their tips stabbed into the ground.
“Are you the master's servant?” The scale covered being hissed. “Show us your token.”
Aurelo cocked his head. “Token?” His eyes brightened as he dug into a pocket. Aurelo felt the metal disk, then pulled it from his pocket. He spun it towards the portal.
More scaled warriors emerged from the portal, their eyes locked on the celestial.
The one who had spoken caught the disk before it could fly into the portal. It examined it, then its eyes snapped back to Aurelo.
“And what is the greatest rule?”
Well damn. Twelve seconds isn’t bad. Aurelo thought as he flexed his shoulders. His hands shot out and snagged his blades.
The ever-growing crowd of scaled warriors went alert with the motions. They held crude weapons tightly in their claw-tipped hands.
Aurelo’s blades flashed in the portal's light. In two quick motions, a line was cut into the ground at his feet.
“The greatest rule is this.” Aurelo’s voice boomed.
“Approaching this line means death.”
He took two steps back, and his rapiers flashed again. Another line appeared in the ground.
“And this line is for me. I will not allow a single warrior of your number to cross it.”
Aurelo stepped back to the first line, then smiled.
“That is the greatest rule.”
The lead warrior hissed in displeasure.
“Who are you?”
Aurelo’s piercing gaze shot back at the creature. “I am just a proud father of three wonderful daughters.” His face gained a fond smile, then firmed into a stern glare. “And you are invaders who wish to harm children. I cannot allow it.”
The scaled warriors blinked, then started laughing. Their laughs were deep and hissing.
“That’s it?” The lead warrior shook his large, scaly head. “We were told the servant may fail, and if that happened, to expect an army waiting for us.”
He let out a chuckle, his clawed finger pointing at Aurelo.
“This is it? Your village sends one man? One father to defend against us? Are all the rest not willing to defend their home?”
“I am enough,” Aurelo stated simply. His wrists flicked and twisted, his two rapiers driven back into the ground in front of him. They stood in the first line, crossed slightly, the celestial’s palms casually resting on top of them.
There were now over a dozen scaled warriors that had left the portal. The leader eyed Aurelo’s blades, then nodded.
“So be it.” The leader spoke. “You are inferior before our master and us, but I will honor your bravery and give you a warrior's death.”
The leader was already moving before the last syllable left his mouth. Green scales blurred in motion as he charged forward, a heavy battle ax brought to bear.
Aurelo stood, unmoving, as the scaled warrior let out a primal howl as they closed.
A flash of golden light. The sound of a thud.
Aurelo stepped to the side, the leader’s headless corpse sliding across the ground to where he once stood.
The gorge was silent as all of the invaders stared at the lifeless body.
thunk
Their eyes shifted to the noise.
Aurelo stood, his rapiers stuck in the line. They were crossed slightly, and his palms had returned to resting on the pummel of his weapons.
“There is but one rule for you,” Aurelo spoke. “Do not approach this line while I guard it. If you violate this rule, the punishment is death.”
He gestured behind him.
“And there is one rule for me.”
His body glowed with golden light.
“While I stand, I will not allow a single one of you to pass that line.”
Aurelo’s eyes glowed like the midday sun.
“In my life, I have done many things. Before I was Aurelo Seraphar, I was known by another name.”
A wild grin split his face.
“The Setting Sun. I never really liked it.”
Another scaled warrior charged. Blood sprayed, gold flashed, and another body slid to the ground.
thunk
“But, that’s the problem with names. So often, it's others who end up giving them to you. All you can do is simply bear them.”
The horde charged as one.
“May light guide me tonight,” Aurelo whispered.
The gorge came alive with the sound of weapons, the light of gold, and the smell of blood.
—— ? ——
—- AREA NOTICE—-
> TIMER EXPIRED - STARTING EVENT.
> Location: Rockfall Stronghold
Conflict is inevitable. Strength is forged. Limits are conquered.
Good luck.
——————————
“Where is your token?” The tall human asked the scared woman.
“It's… right here.” Her shaking hand extended above her. She was still on her knees, head bowed as she had been since the man had exited the portal.
The armored man snatched the dark disk and examined it.
He looked down at the woman, sneering at her terrified shaking.
“And what is the greatest rule?”
“Umm, I… Uh…” she stammered. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, I don’t remember.”
The armored man’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as he examined the potential traitor. Then he saw it.
Dark purple bruises. Cuts. Gashes and signs of abuse. This woman had been… throttled and beaten.
As a fighter, he was well acquainted with bruises and damage to his body.
“Lift the back of your shirt.”
“What?!” The woman’s eyes snapped up. She hyperventilated, her eyelids blinking rapidly. “Please don’t hit me. Please don’t. Please don’t. Tell me what I did wrong, and I can fix it.”
The man’s jaw tightened as he studied her reaction.
These disgusting natives. How dare they do this to a servant of our master?
“I just want to examine your injuries.” The man bent to a knee, his voice softening. “That is all.”
The wild eyes of the woman searched his face. Blood trickled from the lip she bit.
“Ok.”
She stood and turned, her shaky hand lifting the back of her shirt.
Lash marks and days-old bruises laced her back.
“Is that good enough?” she pleaded.
“That’s fine, servant.”
The woman turned to face him.
The warrior known as Takgolvan sighed as he examined her face. Two deep bruises looked to be days old.
“What happened to you?” Takgolvan asked. “Who did this to you?” Behind him, more fighters emerged from the portal, taking up a defensive position. Their eyes all watched the broken woman in front of them.
“It was the clan members.” She said, letting out a small sob. “Everyone in this stronghold is from the same clan. I didn’t know at first, but then they ambushed me. I couldn’t fight them all, so I pretended to be docile.” She shivered.
“They said that I was a useless outsider. I was put to hard labor, and they beat me for every mistake. But they would give me impossible tasks that I was guaranteed to fail.”
Her face twisted, and Takgolvan saw fire light in her eyes. “They treated me as a worthless workhorse. I was beaten every day. So I bided my time and searched the stronghold when they believed I was asleep.”
For the first time since he had come to this new world, Takgolvan saw the woman smile. “They are preparing to repel your attack.” The smile widened. “The leaders shoved me out the gate before locking it. Some of them even shot arrows toward me, yelling at me to go and try to delay the army with my life.” The fires in her eyes burned bright. “They are going to realize their mistake.”
Takgolvan matched her smile. “I take it their defenses are not as perfect as they believe?”
“Yesss.” The woman hissed. Takgolvan frowned, then blinked. Something about that word had bothered him, but his eyes passed over the woman's bruises again.
She had been beaten for untold days. Her eyes were wild and filled with hunger.
A hunger he had seen in the eyes of many before.
A hunger for revenge.
“What is your name, servant of our master?” Talgolvan asked.
“Yulka.”
“Well, Yulka,” Talgovan gave her a fierce grin. The sound of metal boots behind him grew as more and more soldiers walked through the portal. “Tell me about the defenses of our target.”
“Oh, they are extraordinary,” Yulka said excitedly. “The walls of Rockfall stronghold are over sixty feet tall, fifteen feet thick, and surround the entire fort. Murder holes, covered guard houses, and other defenses make it almost impossible to hit defenders, but they can freely fire back.”
Talgovan’s grin turned to a frown. That was a high wall.
Yulka shook her head, then continued, “There is a forty-foot span cut down into the rock around the town. It's a gorge that bends out toward the cliffside and makes it difficult to siege the town.”
Talgovan’s frown deepened. A protective moat? But instead of water it just slid to the cliff side?
His eyes searched the distance. They were on a plateau at an extreme height.
“But,” Yulka said. Talgovan’s attention snapped back to her, so she continued. “It was when I was being made to dump out the clan’s refuse and garbage that I found it.” She grinned wickedly. “A passageway leading into the fortress. One that can be easily shut.”
She gave the burly metal covered man a slow wink. “If you know about it, that is.”
Talgovan froze, his eyes locked on the woman. Her sly smile pulled at her gashed cheek.
“They never went down there?” Talgovan asked in disbelief.
Yulka shook her head, the smile never fading. “One of my worst beatings was when I spilled the refuse I carried.” She hung her head. “No matter the hours I was made to scrub the stone passageways, the smell never left.” Yulka looked back up, a small devious smile pulling at her lips. “Of course, the fact that I went there every night and applied more didn’t help.”
Talgovan stared, then laughter rumbled through him as he turned to his men.
Servant of our master indeed.
“Someone get this one a set of light armor, food, and drink,” he barked, then turned back to her. “How many of us can fit down this tunnel?”
Yulka examined the massive humans. She bit her lower bleeding lip, her eyes scanning their bodies.
“Two across, maybe three.”
Joy filled Talgovan at that number. If they could have two lines of men stream into the fortress… by the time the defenders realized their deadly mistake, it would be too late.
“Yulka, you have just saved the lives of many men,” Talgovan stated as one of his warriors stepped up and draped a leather jacket on her bruised shoulders. “You won’t be able to pay for ale for years at this rate.”
Yulka smiled. “Shall we go then? I can lead you to the passageway’s entrance.”
Talgovan nodded, then barked orders to his soldiers. Within minutes, they were marching away from the fortress and towards a cliffside.
Up above, elongated faces and eyes watched the proceedings.
“Bravo, Oulirah, bravo.” The other watchers waggled their faces in wonderment.
All Uncanny knew Oulirah was one of the most talented of their clan.
But to convince an entire army to march into death?
It should have been impossible.
“As soon as they descend underground, we must assist.” Baljoran hissed. “Oulirah has done the unthinkable. The perfect plan is underway. We must all play our part.”
If Talgovan had left anyone to watch, they might have seen a sight that would chill their very blood.
Nightmarish creatures extended their arms beyond possibility as they scaled their way down the rocks.
The plan was in motion.
—— ? ——
—- AREA NOTICE—-
> TIMER EXPIRED - STARTING EVENT.
> Location: Varnholt Valley
Conflict is inevitable. Strength is forged. Limits are conquered.
Good luck.
——————————
Maelis twisted his hand, and the metal bars jumped from his path.
The stone yard had been silent for almost a minute.
His eyes searched the shadows for that traitor Dravlen. Maelis hefted his war hammer and spun it as he moved.
He was already late.
The timer had ticked to zero, but he had still waited. He had to be sure he could make his way to the portal unmolested.
He searched the shadows one more time, then made a mad dash across the yard.
No one stopped him.
His feet pounded as he accelerated out, then up the mountain towards the glowing portal.
In the distance, he saw the approaching fighters sworn to his god.
Varrax the Unyielding. But that was not what his god told his followers to call him.
He was not just unyielding. He was undying. The heretical system may state his title as such, but it was a lie.
There were many lies in this new world, and Varrax the Undying had made it his divine quest to correct them.
Power was absolute.
Strength was all that mattered.
Even the system would say it if you knew how to pierce the veil of lies.
Maelis slowed as he neared the holy warriors.
“Fellow servants of the master.” He called to them.
The hooved, fur-covered beings halted their advance. One stepped forward, its glowing amber eyes watching him.
Maelis looked at it in wonder. This race the master had found was truly majestic.
Strength and muscle were ingrained in their very being. Taller than him, but shorter than some of the disgusting Frost-kin, the creature's frames were stocky like a Yoreboon. Their arms and legs were thick, their midsection bulging with muscle and round. Meaty hands were adorned with armored bracers made of hide and studded with fangs and tusks of their kills.
They barely had a neck; their large shoulders and faces made it difficult to see. Add in the mane of thick black fur, and the thick beards on their flat faces made it all but invisible.
Two flat horns protruded from their foreheads and were pulled toward their back. The tips of them pointed skyward. Between the horns, rock-like flat faces with large nostrils, amber eyes stared at Maelis. The pointed ears of the one that approached moved from resting against its horns to focus on the Yoreboon.
“Who are you?” The slow rumbling voice of the creature asked. “Are you the servant of our master?”
“I am,” Maelis stated, his hand fishing out the token. “Here is my token.”
The creature was now paces away. Maelis could now see one other feature.
A wriggling green net that wrapped around its upper forearm. It pulsated and squirmed.
The creature saw Maelis’s eyes and grinned.
“I see you have noticed us,” its slow voice intoned. “Unjoined ones always do. They are always so quick to spot us.” It let out a deep breath. “But that has never been a problem for us.”
Maelis gulped.
“Tell us. What is the greatest rule?”
Maelis gave the reply.
“None can surpass Varrax the Undying.”
The creature’s flat face pulled into a wide smile. “And what does he promise?”
“Unending power.” Maelis smiled back
“Yes…….. Greetings, holy servant of the master.”
“Greetings, warriors of Varrax the Undying,” Maelis replied, excitement surging through him.
The rest of the army moved forward. Maelis saw that all of these creatures had the pulsing, slimy green web on their shoulder. Some on the right, some on the left. But they all had it.
One of them stepped forward, holding something in his hands.
“Come join us.”
Maelis’s eyes went wide as he saw the green mass the stocky figure held.
“What?”
“Do not worry.” The creature bowed. “We will not take control. We will merely link you to us.”
All eyes of the creatures moved as one, locking onto the smith.
“You are the servant of our god. You will command the vessels of us in battle.”
Maelis was still wary. “How do I know what you say is true?”
“The servants on the other side thought you might be hesitant.” Another creature stepped forward, holding a small crystal in his hand. “They said to give you this if you were.”
Maelis stepped forward and carefully took the crystal.
As soon as his hands touched it, he felt the slightest, tiniest tinge of an Aura. He closed his eyes as he let it bathe over him.
It was unmistakable.
The Aura of Varrax the Undying. Nothing but a shadow, but he couldn’t mistake that feeling.
His eyes snapped open, his face elated. “Do it,” he said.
The creature holding the green mass stepped to him. Maelis had to stop himself from recoiling as it leapt from the hands that held it, then landed on his shoulder. Maelis shut his eyes as he felt the slimy wriggling mass slide along his bicep.
“Relax your mind. Let us link.” A voice whispered to him.
Maelis breathed.
He released.
A sharp pain in his shoulder made him clench his teeth.
This is enough. The Phestun’s voice echoed in his mind. We have linked you to us.
Maelis opened his eyes.
“That’s it.”
Yes.
All of the cloven-furred bodies nodded as one.
Maelis grinned.
“Then it is finally time.” He turned toward Varnholt and spotted the crowd of people still running for the walls.
“We must hurry. I was delayed in meeting with you.”
A wild grin peeled back his melted face.
“Let's go catch some toys to play with.”
Yesssssssssssssssssss, a feeling of elation came over the bond.
The mountainside shook as the army charged down the slope.
—— ? ——
— AUTHOR NOTICE —
There will be one more chapter before the break, an epilogue.
It's been strange not writing in this world for the last few days, and I'm itching to work on book 2... But! I'm following the advice of several authors and taking a break from Doomed and Damned for the next two weeks. I want to have fresh eyes when I go to edit and do my read-through from the beginning.
... but, because I'm me, my idea of a 'break' is to write another story xD
It will be purposefully unrelated to Doomed and Damned. Despite the temptation to keep writing in the world I have already made (Look, waiting the two weeks is honestly kind of hard.)
I will have more information on the new 'break' story in the next couple of notes.
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