The War, Part I: The Awakening

[QuirkyTemplate]

In Tak’s case, however, the magic in the monocle (or in him) would begin to interfere with the magic of the apple pie prison far before he reached his fill. Until that time, he ate.

Moni smiled, "I've missed you too Dorian. Now lets just cut the crap so that I can kill you and get on with my life."

Tak tossed a piece of pie to the ground. The last piece had sprouted legs and ran away from him, but this one just looked odd. That whimsical smile that it wore didn’t help the situation. You know, he thought to himself. It’d really be better if I just left. Pie is good and all, but … A two-dimensional circle floated by and quickly chomped down on a fruit-basket, then sped off around a corner. Well … yeaaah…

So without much further thought he pictured in his head Moni’s back. Wherever she was, he’d have to get there before she was killed, then take her someplace safe. Hopefully some place with a magical-ring smith nearby. Insolent ring he thought bitterly. Binding my life to Moni’s.

As he placed his hand on what went for walls in this place, the monocle began to grow warm. What opened in front of him was not Moni’s back, but a dank room seemingly coated in blood. It was darker than where he currently was, so it took a while for his eyes to adjust. I don’t see Moni anywhere … is this monocle broken or something? But then words drifted out faintly … ”missed … too Dorian. Now … the crap so that I can kill you”

That was Monique’s voice, to be sure. No broken monocle this time. Pulling in a deep breath, he walked through the wall.

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The Dreamer cleared the food away, and the light in the room faded as he left.

Isaac felt a breeze on his left side. Sun was beating down on his face, and when his eyes opened he found himself looking out over a vast and barren plane. Withered grass blew in the wind, and lightning-cracked trees stood blackened in small patches. On the horizon stood a large mountain made of shadow. It sat there menacing and cold in the distance. Then large clay hands pulled the mountain down so there was nothing left, not even a hill. The clay hands then shattered, the wind carrying them off.

Everything was still for a time, and half a time. Isaac began to turn away, but the sky opened and a harsh light pierced his eyes. A voice that came from all directions boomed out to him saying, “Isaac, look. These are things that have passed and will pass. I’ve searched the men of this age for even one who can hold my flame, and found none.” The air became brittle, as if a word would shatter everything. Isaac fell to his knees, head bent to the earth with gritted teeth. Who am I, he asked out to the sky. That you would speak to me? A warm wind came from above. It murmured as he blew, as if shushing a small child. “But I’ve chosen you my child, to be my mouth-piece.” The words were soft, almost hypnotic. “I chose you because you have no eloquence. Because you have failed, I will bring you up. Because of your utter weakness, I will increase my fame through you. Then people will know that it is I, not man, who arbiters the events of time, and I who cause nations to rise and fall, peoples to form and scatter.”

Isaac’s eyes were opened fully, and he saw that the mountain of shadow that was destroyed was only one of four. One made of bronze and iron, harder than any other. One formed out of ice and mist, with eyes covering its slopes. The final one was made of air—solid and soft air that flew and formed into whatever size it pleased. The plane below them began to writhe, and out of it came men with hammers and flutes and fire, and they marched out to make war against the mountains. The voice came again for the final time, untamable in its command. “Go south Isaac. Stand and be counted.”

***

Isaac awoke; the dream still fresh in his mind. “I must go,” he said to the open air. “I must go south.” The Dreamer stood silently from where he was sitting.

“You cannot … you’re too weak. You still need rest.”

Isaac’s head turned and he caught a glance at the Dreamer’s hooded figure. “I’m weak,” he started, remembering the words of the voice. “But I still must go.” Something changed in the way the Dreamer was standing. Something about the way he carried his weight. When he spoke again, it was as a man speaks to his equal—as if he had seen something in Isaac that was powerful and terrible.

“Then I will take you south.” He turned, motioning to someone. “Carry him—his body will not allow him to move.” Isaac saw a massive guard with beaming white teeth stoop down and lift him over his shoulder.

“Take him to the wagons. We’ll take Kemper now that it’s safe to travel on.” Isaac was already drifting off again, not noticing the significance of that statement.

[Apoc]

“Can I count on your support?” Enias asked General Drewski, as the two met for the last time, on the steps of the Emperor’s palace in Neves. Imrahl was waiting with the horses and the ten man honour guard that was to accompany them to the city gates.

“Though the emperor believes otherwise,” replied Drewski, “I believe we need all the help we can get. I’ve seen Diomedeis fight in the past...against the toughest warriors I believe have ever existed...and he broke them...and now...he has them fighting for him...those Nyrmidians are damn fierce...but with Diomedeis as Taranos’ champion...shit...we would gladly ask for aid from Bloomingdale and those dragons...but the emperor believes that would ensure certain defeat on our part...the days of enmity between our peoples are at an end, Enias. Bloomingdales unforunately....are not.”

Enias took his arm and walked with him down the steps. “General, Neves must call for aid should Taranos’ army reach this far north...for if Neves should fall...”

“Neves will not fall, you of all people should know that Enias. Unlike Numenial, Ithili and Delen’dun...we will fight..and they have to get past us first.”

Enias gave a curt nod, then stepped into the saddle. Imrahl also gave the general a nod. Drewski looked into the warriors eyes, “You look excited, though I don’t think I want to know why.” to which the large horselord bared his teeth in a savage grin.

Enias touched heels to his mount and they rode slowly from the palace, the silver clad honour guard marching behind them. Half an hour later they cleared the gates, and took the horses into a light run across the cities northern hills. Drawing reign at the top Enias gazed back at the city of Neves.

“You look troubled, my friend,” said Imrahl.

“Indeed I am. War is coming, Imrahl.” The large warrior simply grinned. “But not against the foe we originally believed, and that worries me, friend.” *

***

Diomedeis stood by Taranos’ side, gazing out into the eternity of desert that stretched before them, “it is time?”

After a pause, the boy gave a brief nod.

Turning, Diomedeis began a slow walk to the dunes summit behind him, his feet sinking into the sand, creating small tides that he watched as he reached its rise. Below, for miles, like Black Fury’s shadow stretched Taranos’ host. Horns sounded at his appearance...and the vast ocean of warriors began to march..it was time.

Diomedeis looked down behind him to where Taranos now stood, his arms raised high before him as a dense thunder filled cloud rose like a mist out of the Narch desert...it was time.

Moving down to join his company at the front of the host, Diomedeis slung his shield in front of him. Nyrmidians from his company led the front line and came up alongside their champion, to either side of him, they all rose their shields in defence of the unknown beyond the thunder filled dense mist...then they where gone.

***

Taranos strained under the weight of the magic he was using, but finally, as the last of his army past through, he followed.

***

Aebh Ithilial let out a brief scream at the sudden lost link...”Taranos...”, she shook herself then turned to the emperor, “...he’s...gone.”

General Drewski stepped forward, “what do you mean gone...where is Diomedeis and the host?”

She regarded the general with a look that answered his question immediately ...gone... but where?

***

“I want archers across those rooftops and pikemen cordoning off the street, noone is to pass.” the captain rushed off with a brief salute, Ridley turned and surveyed the scene before him. Twenty archers waited below in four rows of five, in a half circle around the entrance, ten on the rooftops opposite, arrows knocked, all aimed on the only exit of the Temple Of Verlet See. Ridley smiled a thought to himself that had been struggling to get out for the last week, back to normality.

[OOC]-*this being Enias' belief that Alazar was the one that had risen...not Taranos, and so worry for the wherabouts of the mad one.

[Tatum]

But then words drifted out faintly … ”missed … too Dorian. Now … the crap so that I can kill you”

That was Monique’s voice, to be sure. No broken monocle this time. Pulling in a deep breath, he walked through the wall.

Tagor and Saran wasted no time stepping in front of Dorian. Neither looked entirely sure of himself, but they stood firm, their eyes daring Moni to take on all three. Moni rolled her eyes and sighed loudly "ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME? Step aside boys! I've skinned men prettier than you and worn them as a cape." Tagor licked his lips nervously but neither man budged. Saran went so far as to muster a grin.

"Out of the way men. She may look like a fun ride but she isn't kidding about the cape. She's meaner than a rabid dog on Dicer street and has the coldest heart of anyone I've ever met. If I didn't know any better I'd say the Gods created her just to show me what I'd be had I been born a woman." Dorian stepped out from behind the two almost casually.

Moni's eyes glittered hate, "Don't EVER compare the two of us Dorian. You would never measure up." Moni saw Dorian's eyes flicker behind her for a split second. On instinct she whirled around, ready to take on whatever foul creature Dorian had sneaking up on her but she was shocked to find it was Tak standing behind her. "Where have you been?" she demanded. "So much for protecting me!" The princess Monique only had a moment to wonder why Tak was yelling "Look out" before something very heavy hit her in the back of the head and darkness closed in.

[LaughingTurtle]

Your faith has gotten you into this mess, and it is the only thing that can get you out. I know not the way but deep down I think you already know it. My job is done here, fare thee well Marsolus. May the gods have mercy on your soul.”

It would seem fate had decreed Marsolus to be a marionette in some grand show. Woe unto the puppet master who would soon find his own controlling strings used to choke the life out of him. There was so much to do and yet so little time. But if there was one thing he enjoyed, it was his job. An opportunity like this was giving the judge an axe with no jury in sight.

Finally freed from the Temples bureaucratic oversight, he couldn’t help but smile. Yet it was a bitter sweet victory, for now he must inquisition the very Temple which had spawned him. Irregardless, he was saving them…saving them from themselves. All traces of heresy would be systematically hunted down and exorcized permanently.

“I can hardly believe this fortuitous turn of events, what with the untimely demise of High Chancellor Sigurd and the appearance of-”

“Silence!” The cloaked figure furtively glanced about the darkened prayer chamber. “My son, even the walls have ears. You wouldn’t wish your poor choice of words to be heard by the wrong people now would you?”

“Hah, you worry to much my old friend.”

“And you worry not enough! We have worked too hard and too long to let a careless slip of the tongue ruin all our plans.” Gliding down the rows of pews the robed man checked each isle, ensuring they would not be overheard. Once satisfied that they were indeed alone only then did he pull back his hood revealing a withered and crooked old face. The years had not been kind to Bishop Nimor

“Don’t overstep yourself. You may hold the empty title in public, but we are equal in the eyes of Alazar.” Removing his hood, Father Kirkower’s beady little eyes glared balefully at his coconspirator. With a shake of his head that sent his many chins wobbling, the podgy preacher shuffled to the nearest pew and took a seat.

“Mark my words Nimor, the time for action is nigh. We risk more by doing nothing than that of being overheard. The ceremony must take place.”

Nimor grunted neither in acceptance nor denial. “We will take this matter up with Archbishop Stravanous. He will know what to do. Now come, let us depart here before an enforcer chances upon us in their utter devotion to incessant prayer.”

“I fear no enforcers.”

“Then you are a fool.”

The two shocked men turned as one to see a figure standing in the doorway.

“Good evening Brothers, I pray you have been to confession this day…”


***********


*Sigh* “Two more missing. That makes six Brothers in just the past forty-eight hours. Who knows how many more may be unaccounted for? I fear something sinister is afoot.”

“Fear belies faith your Eminence.”

Wearily glancing up from his reports, Councilman N’halm regarded his visitor curiously. “Derecko has surely blessed us to have you once again in our fold. Your mission to the north, whilst successful, was dearly paid for. Yet its importance justified the costs. Your performance is a testament to the Fuerza de la Orden’s strength.”

“You honor me most beneficent one.”

“So you are sure about D’Alessio?”

“I saw naught of him following the incident. Even with all that has happened, he is a resourceful one. I expect to run into him again soon enough.”

“I see. Well, to the matter at hand. Your travels lend you a, how shall I put it, unique perspective my son. One that is necessary to persuade the Emperor into taking the course of action best suited for the Order…and Neves naturally as well. Thus it is with a heavy heart that I grant your request for an audience with the Emperor. We receive you only to send you back into the breach.”

“Do not trouble yourself over it, for I was born to serve.”

“You shall meet with his lordship tomorrow morn. We walk upon razors edge, let us pray you have more luck than General Drewski.”

“Trust in me and yee shall not be led astray.”

“Godspeed…Marsolus.”