Tsunami's Story Hour: Legions of the Damned! (Updated? Whaaaa?)
- Thread starter Breakstone
- Start date
Look_a_Unicorn
First Post
"The two split ways, and thus neither heard the tortured screams muted by the thick stone walls of the temple…"
Ack, shivers down spine!!
Was the PC's mistrust engaged by the insane giggling?
Awesome drawing e3_Jeb, very shiny. Well not shiny so much as evil and broody, but. Yeah. Shiny. *mutters under breath about people with ability to draw*.
Ack, shivers down spine!!
Was the PC's mistrust engaged by the insane giggling?
Awesome drawing e3_Jeb, very shiny. Well not shiny so much as evil and broody, but. Yeah. Shiny. *mutters under breath about people with ability to draw*.
Lela
First Post
Agony, torture, terror, pain,
Happiness, laughing, evil, maim.
Those who giggle cannot be trusted,
And those who twittle will be busted.
Giggles of agony, laughter of hate,
Our feathered friend is trapped behind that gate.
Who will ride forth and bring him back,
Who will kill that blithering, giggling bat?
Happiness, laughing, evil, maim.
Those who giggle cannot be trusted,
And those who twittle will be busted.
Giggles of agony, laughter of hate,
Our feathered friend is trapped behind that gate.
Who will ride forth and bring him back,
Who will kill that blithering, giggling bat?
Stone Angel
First Post
Great updates and great illustration. I love this story hour. Keep it up Tsunami.
The Seraph of Earth and Stone
The Seraph of Earth and Stone
Breakstone
First Post
Hey look! An update! Whoda thunkit?
Chapter 9- Part 2
The Sins of Sun Mao Tsu
Keith scratched his stubble with a broad hand, deep in thought. So far, the citizens of Steinbruch had been helpful, if not distant. As far as Keith could figure, Steinbruch had been suffering from a deadly sickness, when Sun Mao Tsu walked into town, presenting a smile and a cure. However… there was something missing from the equation, a piece of the puzzle that didn’t fit precisely. As Keith pondered, his hand drifted down to his sore neck, and began fiddling with the silver key given to him by Grandfather Ash.
“Maybe this Mason Hobbs fellow will reveal more…”
After searching for a bit, Keith found Mason’s stone house northeast of the large well in the center of town. He knocked at the door, and when no answer echoed from inside he called out, “Mason? Mr. Hobbs? Are you there?”
When he tried knocking at the door again, he found it unlocked. With a simple push, it creaked open slowly.
Keith Goodfellow stepped into the gloom.
Arudan Furivel found the tavern easily enough- it was a large stone building labeled “Bier’s Tavern.” He had a hankering for some fine wine, and a nice strong cheese to go along with it. Maybe even a little bread, to satiate his hunger.
He strolled towards the bartender, who was in the middle of a conversation with a drab dwarf and an equally dull human. “You!” he cried, interrupting. “I wish for your best wine. And I don’t mean the one you keep on display for these simple peasants,” Arudan, nose held high in the air, ignored the cold stares from the Steinbruch townsfolk seated next to him, “I want the wine you keep hidden beneath the floorboards for hope that some famous noble will pass through this dreary little town, and find a sliver of time in his busy schedule to delight you with a visit and a purchase.”
“Sorry sir,” the bartender sighed, eyes calm and voice monotonous, “We don’t serve alcohol here.”
Arudan felt his heart skip a beat. “But… this is a tavern,” he almost stuttered, “you must have some sort of alcoholic beverage!”
“Not in Steinbruch,” the three townsfolk answered.
A cold sweat broke out on Arudan’s pale forehead, and he brought his hands to his mouth in horror as the world he once knew swirled before his dilating pupils. “What’s wrong with this town?”
Keith’s eyes focused on the broken chair in the corner of the living room, the slightly torn curtain near the window, and the looming closet across the room. There had been a fight here. A poorly covered one. And the closet- now that was just screaming with suspicion.
He edged towards the closet, large and dark, towering like a monolith of wood and dust. He reached towards the knob, licked his dry lips, found his mouth parched but his brow moist with perspiration, and yanked the closet door open.
A body tumbled to the floor.
Mason Hobbs.
Uel and Ruskin arrived in town to hear a shout from a villager. “Someone’s broken into Mason’s house!”
“Mason?” Uel recalled. Ruskin glanced at him inquisitively, and the druid quickly explained. “We have to deliver this key to this man named Mason, because his brother died in this other town. Well, he didn’t just die, he was killed by some bandits. And that’s why we met you. Well, we met you because we were traveling north to go to their barracks and- never mind, let’s just follow these villagers.”
As the two ran off after the townsfolk, they met up with Arudan, sprinting in a similar fashion. “I think Keith’s in trouble!” he cried.
And indeed he was. When they arrived at the scene of the mob, the angry villagers had already swarmed Keith after breaking in through the window of Mason Hobb’s small stone house. One man had found a sap and with an echoing crack brought it down upon Keith’s head.
“Ouch!” Keith hollered, “That really hurts!”
Uel sent his crows to block the window in a swarm of feathers and talons as Arudan and Ruskin attempted to control the crowd, swinging in with fists and kicks. Inside Mason’s house, the sap-wielding man brought his weapon down again, muttering, “I’m sorry we have to do this, but Sun Mao Tsu-”
“-Is, ah-ha, here.”
The mob froze, then parted like the sea before a holy man, letting the amiably smiling Sun Mao Tsu and the ever-silent Dmitri stroll through unharmed. With a surge of strength Keith threw his assailants from him, and roared, “What the hell is going on here?”
“And where’s all the alcohol?” Arudan added.
“Keith Goodfellow and Arudan Furivel,” Sun Mao Tsu beamed, “please come back with me to the temple, and I will, ah-ha, explain everything. Mm-hmm!”
“How’s he know our names?” Arudan whispered in fear as his feet carried him behind the cheerful priest and his masked assistant.
Keith and Arudan followed Sun Mao Tsu back to the great stone temple, leaving Uel, Ruskin, and Joshua with the somber townsfolk. “I don’t like this one bit…” a man complained. There was a general murmur of agreement as the villagers took a seat in the dusty road.
“Quiet!” another man whispered. “Sun Mao Tsu hears all!”
“But is this worth it?” the first man spoke again, tossing a rock in defiance, “I mean, we nearly killed our friend Mason, and the angel…”
Another murmur fluttered through the mob, but Uel had an idea. After his last adventure, he knew what to do in situations like these.
“Friends, listen!” he stood and shouted, “Sun Mao Tsu has been a thorn in your sides for too long. It’s time you take a stand! Who’s town is this anyways?”
“But he cured us of a plague that would have killed us all!” a woman cried, “And who are you to tell us what to do, stranger?”
“Hm… yes. Er… well then,” Uel sat again and whispered to Ruskin, “Where’s Keith when you need him?”
The great stone doors closed behind Keith and Arudan, slamming shut at the hands of the masked Dmitri. Sun Mao Tsu stood before the adventurers, wide smile still lighting up his face. “Dmitri,” he commanded, “please go and guard our angel. Mm-hmm!”
“Ah, ha!” Keith cried, pointing forth an accusational finger. “So you’re keeping Abadon prisoner, eh?”
“Oh, yes!” Sun Mao Tsu chuckled, “It’s been quite a delight ‘healing’ such an, ah-ha, angelic figure. Mm-hmm!” As his laugh echoed, Sun Mao Tsu pulled a long, gleaming needle from the sleeve of his bright-colored robe.
“But… why?” Arudan asked, recalling the numerous puncture wounds that marred Abadon’s otherwise immaculate skin.
“Why?” the priest let out a giggle, “Why, but for the fun of it!” It seemed impossible, but Sun Mao Tsu’s smile widened as he drew his deft fingers along the length of the silver needle in his hands.
Arudan watched that needle, and felt a memory, long ago buried under years of aging, resurface. When he was very young, Arudan had wandered into the deep forest on his own and gotten lost in a briar patch. While attempting to find his way out, he’d slipped down a hill and careened towards a dry bush with thorns as long and sharp as the needle before him now. Fortunately, Arudan had grabbed a thick unearthed root and suspended himself just inches above the briar, barely saving his own life. Now the elf felt as if he was sliding down the same hill, except no roots were in sight.
Meanwhile, Ruskin found a puddle of mud to splash in.
Back in the temple, Keith was searching for the missing piece of the Steinbruch puzzle. “All I want to know,” he spoke slowly while pondering, “is what all this has to do with Mason Hobbs.”
“Mason Hobbs?” Sun Mao Tsu seemed surprised, yet still delighted, “I’d ask the villagers if I were you. Mm-hmm! I never questioned how they, ah-ha, achieved possession of the angel. I was simply happy to receive such a… gift. Mm-hmm!”
A muffled moan echoed from the back of the temple, and Keith new he had to take action. But it was just him and Arudan against this madman and his masked assistant. Keith was used to leading armies- not fighting solo.
Outside, Uel suddenly stood. Ruskin glanced up from his mud pile as the druid announced, “Keith and Arudan are my friends. I’m going to help them, even if none of you follow me.”
As Uel turned to stride towards the church, his crows following in v-formation, the villagers started to make eye contact, nodding and smiling as if all sharing the same idea. “I’ll grab some pitchforks,” one man spoke.
“I’ve got some torches,” another stood, and ran off towards his house.
Soon enough, the entire mob was darting back and forth, finding and exchanging simple weapons and riot gear. Ruskin grinned, and loped after Uel in his usual crouched fashion.
Keith felt sweat slowly dribbling down his brow. Sun Mao Tsu stood before him, still smiling from ear to ear, still fiddling with the long silver needle in his thin fingers. He wanted to take action. He wanted to unleash the fury of his flail, to defeat the evil that stood so passively before him. But Sun Mao Tsu seemed a step ahead at every corner. Keith felt utterly helpless, and Arudan looked no better. The blood had drained from his face, leaving him ghastly pale. Pale as a corpse. Keith shook his head quickly, to clear such thoughts from his mind.
“Sun Mao Tsu,” he began, summoning all his might to stare the priest in the eyes. ‘Sum Mao Tsu what?’ the little voice spoke inside his head. ‘What can you do? He’s got you beat. Might as well surrender and hope to get out of this in one piece.’
“Yes, Keith?” Sun Mao Tsu chuckled. There seemed to be no hesitation to his voice, no end to his confidence. This was a man who knew his sins, who had tamed his conscience, who had conquered his morals with an iron fist. Keith licked his lips nervously, a shiver working its way up his spine. He took a ragged breath to speak again, when-
BOOM!
The entire temple shook as the door buckled inwards. Keith could hear the shouts of villagers outside.
BOOM!
Dust, disturbed by the pounding at the door, floated down from the rafters, descended through the columns of light cascading from the stained glass windows.
BOOM!
Keith grinned. “Sun Mao Tsu,” he declared, power back in his voice, “the entire town is sick of you.”
BOOM!
“You are an infection, spreading your evil wherever your presence is felt.”
BOOM!
“And even the common man knows how to take care of infections.”
CRASH!
The towering stone doors burst open as villagers spilled in, clutching pitchforks, torches, and whatever makeshift weaponry they could find. Uel and Ruskin rode the wave of the mob, each enthused but a bit flustered by the spirit held in these townsfolk. “Sun Mao Tsu!” one villager yelled above the hubbub of the crowd. “Your terror ends now!”
The smile never left the priest’s face. That was the truly frightening thing, Keith would reflect upon later. With a few gestures, he chuckled, “Dmitri, we have company,” and vanished with a giggle.
“Stay on your guard,” Keith shouted, assuming the commanding role immediately, “Sun Mao Tsu could be anywhere!”
But Arudan Furivel’s attention was drawn to the crimson figure rounding the corner of the doorway. It was the masked Dmitri, and Arudan watched with curious eyes as the jester unsheathed a long, shining rapier from his belt. Immediately, Arudan’s face flushed with color. Things were on his terms now. “It’s all right, Keith,” he haughtily laughed, “I excelled at swordplay in school.” With a flourish, he flicked out his own rapier.
The two fencers stepped towards each other carefully, left foot crossing over right, right foot sweeping the dusty floor with silken boot. They edged towards each other, passing through pools of dim, dusty light, past thick stone columns etched with the records of ancient battles, over a broken stool and around a spilled puddle of holy water. Their sword tips quivered, eager for blood. Arudan’s mind whirled as he recalled lesson after lesson of fencing technique and etiquette. Thrust, flick, parry… it was all coming back now. Finally, the two swords crossed. Dmitri stared with his cold, flat mask from one side. Opposing him smirked Arudan. With a flourish of swords, so fast they seemed blurs of steel, the fight began.
“I know you’re there, Sun Mao Tsu!” Keith cried, brandishing his shield and flail in guard positions. “Come out and face me!”
“Oh, Keith,” the voice of Sun Mao Tsu echoed from… somewhere, “I did so hope you didn’t think me such a fool.” A giggle followed, floating in the air like a cold breeze- invisible, yet still raising goose bumps on Keith’s flesh. “Now I’d like to introduce you to something dear to my heat, Keith,” came the voice again. “It’s called the Needle of Endless Pain. Forged from hellburnt iron, it leaves a wound that never heals. I keep it around for… special occasions. Mm-hmm!”
“I’ll consider myself lucky then,” growled Keith, eyes casting around in the chaos of the mob of villagers.
“Oh, I hope you will!” Sun Mao Tsu giggled, directly behind! Keith twirled, but it was too late- he could feel a surging pain in his neck, just above his collarbone. Sun Mao Tsu grinned, rolling the blood-stained black needle between his fingers, admiring it in the tainted-glass light. Keith grimaced in pain, placing a palm on the wound at his neck. His hand came away doused in blood. “Tell me, Keith,” Sun Mao Tsu cried joyously, “how does it feel?”
In answer, Keith let out a roar and swung forward with his flail. Sun Mao Tsu raised his arms in alarm as the head of the flail came crashing towards him. Keith growled deep in his throat and continued to strike, pain gripping his mind.
Arudan leapt forward, thrusting with his rapier towards Dmitri’s shoulder- but the masked fencer side-stepped and pierced Arudan’s chest with his own sword. Arudan bit his lip, attempting to ignore the pain. His shirt was already stained with blood from other wounds- he wouldn’t last much longer. Arudan twirled and flicked high, but Dmitri ducked, slicing along Arudan’s thigh as he circled on his own. Arudan leapt backwards, passing by the raging Keith, and struck out with his rapier, barely catching Dmitri in the arm. But Dmitri pushed forwards, slashing twice, opening wounds along both of Arudan’s shoulders. As the elf’s vest blotted with crimson blood, he felt the world fade around him. The church began to twirl, scarlet tapestries smearing with amber-glassed windows, Dmitri’s mask staring blindly through the blackness closing in. Arudan spun once and fell into Dmitri’s arms, a rapier at his throat.
Sun Mao Tsu began to giggle again. Keith, agitated, lifted his mace to strike, but was interrupted. “Take another look at the one you, ah-ha, swore to protect, Keith,” Sun Mao Tsu called out. Keith turned to see Arudan held hostage by the masked Dmitri. “Make one move,” Sun Mao Tsu continued, jubilant as ever, “and his fine throat with be slit.”
On any other day, Keith might have retreated. On any other day, Sun Mao Tsu would have chuckled slowly, collected his angel and his masked assistant, and walked free. On any other day, Keith would have left an evil man to do his evil business elsewhere. But today, Keith was in a bad mood. The angel, the mob outside Mason’s house, and above all else Sun Mao Tsu filled his mind, stifled his caution, and pumped adrenaline through his veins. With a leap of faith, Keith dove through the air, barely soaring over Arudan and tackling Dmitri to the ground. “No!” Sun Mao Tsu cried, the smile finally fading from his face. With grim glee shining in his wicked eyes, he brought a handful of needles from beneath his robes. “You’ll pay for that, you retched scum!” Sun Mao Tsu slowly advanced upon Keith, but the commander smiled back. For behind the priest, eight crows rose into the air, melting from the shadows. Sun Mao Tsu cried out as the birds dove, talons slicing, beaks stabbing. Uel stood in the corner, calling out orders in a language only his crows could understand.
As the chaos unfolded in the middle of the temple, Joshua edged his way to the back of the room. All this battle was far too much for him. He couldn’t survive a sword to the shoulder or a needle to the neck. These heroes were crazy! The back room would be a much safer place to hide. Peeking through the doorway, Joshua found an unfathomable sight before his eyes. The angel Abadon was strapped to a stone table, wings bound with cords, hands tied to his sides to expose his chest. His skin was pale, and the puncture wounds that dotted his hide looked fresh- crimson blood ran from many. The angel glanced with foggy eyes at the boy in the doorway, and in a hoarse voice whispered, “Life… I need… life…”
Well, Joshua didn’t know quite what to think of this. The angel almost reminded him of the wilting plants in his mother’s garden after she had passed away. And Joshua only knew one way to take care of wilting plants. He glanced around the temple, spotting a pedestal of holy water only a few yards away. “I’ll be right back, sir!” he replied to the faint figure on the table. Joshua sprinted through the angry mob of villagers, plowing over an overweight pillager in the process. Joshua turned to apologize, and tumbled over the back of a pew. “Oh, dear,” he muttered, picking himself up and running to the pedestal. Scooping out the glistening water in a clay bowl, Joshua made his way back through the crowds, careful not to spill. Finally, he reached the angel again. “Life…” the celestial being continued to murmur, face beaded with sweat. Joshua lifted the bowl over the angel’s face, and began to pour. “I hope this works…”
Keith towered over the cowering Sun Mao Tsu. Ruskin prodded at the unconscious Dmitri, peeking beneath the solid mask and unsheathing his sword with child-like curiosity. Uel rustled through his pack, seemingly intent on finding an object. However, their commander’s attention was fully focused on the priest before him. “You…” he growled. “You…”
“Y-you can’t kill me!” Sun Mao Tsu sniveled. His smile was gone, replaced with a wide-eyed expression of fear. “Y-you’re one of the good ones! You can’t kill me!”
“Listen up, you angel-defiler!” Keith roared. The townsfolk rustling through the temple stopped cold at his thundering voice. “You are the worst human being I have ever come upon. You deserve nothing better than death!” With this accusation, Keith raised his flail over his head for one final blow.
“No.” a voice spoke, cutting clear through the anger and aggression. A white light burst through the back doorway, and Abadon the angel in his full glory flew out. His wings were expansive, white as snow, slowly sweeping up and down, sending swirls of dust fleeing from his floating feet. His skin literally glowed- the puncture wounds vanished. A slight steam seemed to rise from him, and his eyes burned with holy might. “Keith,” he spoke again with a voice reminiscent of church bells. “Put the flail down. This man is a token of sin, injustice incarnate. We must use the law to defeat him.”
The fury seemed to melt away from Keith’s face at the sight of the angelic being before him. Abadon continued, “I will take him to the celestial courts, where justice shall be served. Come with me, Sun Mao Tsu.”
The priest’s face was ghastly pale in the light of the angel, and he cried in a desperate voice, “No! No!” No longer in power, Sun Mao Tsu was as vulnerable as the angel he had tortured only hours before.
“Justice is at hand,” Abadon announced, enfolding Sun Mao Tsu in his glowing arms and flying slowly out of the church. As the angel and priest rose towards the heavens, the light slowly faded from the ravaged temple.
“Amen…” someone sighed from the crowds.
The silence was interrupted by a strum of a mandolin. Keith glanced over to see Uel with an odd instrument clasped in his pale hands. “I found this on the road. The eye on the mandolin is blind, just like Dmitri- this might just work.” He strummed again, and the crowd let out a collective gasp as a transformation took place over the fallen Dmitri. The gaudy crimson costume and black and white mask faded away, replaced by an old, weathered face and simple traveler’s clothes. A dirty cloth was tied over Dmitri’s eyes, and long peppered hair lay in a halo about his head. The blind man stirred, and, sitting up, rubbed his forehead. “Where am I?” he asked in a gruff voice.
“It’s a long story, friend,” Keith sighed, taking a seat on one of the stone pews. “And it’s best told over a drink.”
A man spoke up, “We don’t have any alcohol-”
“Water will do fine,” Keith interrupted, letting a slow smile illuminate his face.
Chapter 9- Part 2
The Sins of Sun Mao Tsu
Keith scratched his stubble with a broad hand, deep in thought. So far, the citizens of Steinbruch had been helpful, if not distant. As far as Keith could figure, Steinbruch had been suffering from a deadly sickness, when Sun Mao Tsu walked into town, presenting a smile and a cure. However… there was something missing from the equation, a piece of the puzzle that didn’t fit precisely. As Keith pondered, his hand drifted down to his sore neck, and began fiddling with the silver key given to him by Grandfather Ash.
“Maybe this Mason Hobbs fellow will reveal more…”
After searching for a bit, Keith found Mason’s stone house northeast of the large well in the center of town. He knocked at the door, and when no answer echoed from inside he called out, “Mason? Mr. Hobbs? Are you there?”
When he tried knocking at the door again, he found it unlocked. With a simple push, it creaked open slowly.
Keith Goodfellow stepped into the gloom.
Arudan Furivel found the tavern easily enough- it was a large stone building labeled “Bier’s Tavern.” He had a hankering for some fine wine, and a nice strong cheese to go along with it. Maybe even a little bread, to satiate his hunger.
He strolled towards the bartender, who was in the middle of a conversation with a drab dwarf and an equally dull human. “You!” he cried, interrupting. “I wish for your best wine. And I don’t mean the one you keep on display for these simple peasants,” Arudan, nose held high in the air, ignored the cold stares from the Steinbruch townsfolk seated next to him, “I want the wine you keep hidden beneath the floorboards for hope that some famous noble will pass through this dreary little town, and find a sliver of time in his busy schedule to delight you with a visit and a purchase.”
“Sorry sir,” the bartender sighed, eyes calm and voice monotonous, “We don’t serve alcohol here.”
Arudan felt his heart skip a beat. “But… this is a tavern,” he almost stuttered, “you must have some sort of alcoholic beverage!”
“Not in Steinbruch,” the three townsfolk answered.
A cold sweat broke out on Arudan’s pale forehead, and he brought his hands to his mouth in horror as the world he once knew swirled before his dilating pupils. “What’s wrong with this town?”
Keith’s eyes focused on the broken chair in the corner of the living room, the slightly torn curtain near the window, and the looming closet across the room. There had been a fight here. A poorly covered one. And the closet- now that was just screaming with suspicion.
He edged towards the closet, large and dark, towering like a monolith of wood and dust. He reached towards the knob, licked his dry lips, found his mouth parched but his brow moist with perspiration, and yanked the closet door open.
A body tumbled to the floor.
Mason Hobbs.
Uel and Ruskin arrived in town to hear a shout from a villager. “Someone’s broken into Mason’s house!”
“Mason?” Uel recalled. Ruskin glanced at him inquisitively, and the druid quickly explained. “We have to deliver this key to this man named Mason, because his brother died in this other town. Well, he didn’t just die, he was killed by some bandits. And that’s why we met you. Well, we met you because we were traveling north to go to their barracks and- never mind, let’s just follow these villagers.”
As the two ran off after the townsfolk, they met up with Arudan, sprinting in a similar fashion. “I think Keith’s in trouble!” he cried.
And indeed he was. When they arrived at the scene of the mob, the angry villagers had already swarmed Keith after breaking in through the window of Mason Hobb’s small stone house. One man had found a sap and with an echoing crack brought it down upon Keith’s head.
“Ouch!” Keith hollered, “That really hurts!”
Uel sent his crows to block the window in a swarm of feathers and talons as Arudan and Ruskin attempted to control the crowd, swinging in with fists and kicks. Inside Mason’s house, the sap-wielding man brought his weapon down again, muttering, “I’m sorry we have to do this, but Sun Mao Tsu-”
“-Is, ah-ha, here.”
The mob froze, then parted like the sea before a holy man, letting the amiably smiling Sun Mao Tsu and the ever-silent Dmitri stroll through unharmed. With a surge of strength Keith threw his assailants from him, and roared, “What the hell is going on here?”
“And where’s all the alcohol?” Arudan added.
“Keith Goodfellow and Arudan Furivel,” Sun Mao Tsu beamed, “please come back with me to the temple, and I will, ah-ha, explain everything. Mm-hmm!”
“How’s he know our names?” Arudan whispered in fear as his feet carried him behind the cheerful priest and his masked assistant.
Keith and Arudan followed Sun Mao Tsu back to the great stone temple, leaving Uel, Ruskin, and Joshua with the somber townsfolk. “I don’t like this one bit…” a man complained. There was a general murmur of agreement as the villagers took a seat in the dusty road.
“Quiet!” another man whispered. “Sun Mao Tsu hears all!”
“But is this worth it?” the first man spoke again, tossing a rock in defiance, “I mean, we nearly killed our friend Mason, and the angel…”
Another murmur fluttered through the mob, but Uel had an idea. After his last adventure, he knew what to do in situations like these.
“Friends, listen!” he stood and shouted, “Sun Mao Tsu has been a thorn in your sides for too long. It’s time you take a stand! Who’s town is this anyways?”
“But he cured us of a plague that would have killed us all!” a woman cried, “And who are you to tell us what to do, stranger?”
“Hm… yes. Er… well then,” Uel sat again and whispered to Ruskin, “Where’s Keith when you need him?”
The great stone doors closed behind Keith and Arudan, slamming shut at the hands of the masked Dmitri. Sun Mao Tsu stood before the adventurers, wide smile still lighting up his face. “Dmitri,” he commanded, “please go and guard our angel. Mm-hmm!”
“Ah, ha!” Keith cried, pointing forth an accusational finger. “So you’re keeping Abadon prisoner, eh?”
“Oh, yes!” Sun Mao Tsu chuckled, “It’s been quite a delight ‘healing’ such an, ah-ha, angelic figure. Mm-hmm!” As his laugh echoed, Sun Mao Tsu pulled a long, gleaming needle from the sleeve of his bright-colored robe.
“But… why?” Arudan asked, recalling the numerous puncture wounds that marred Abadon’s otherwise immaculate skin.
“Why?” the priest let out a giggle, “Why, but for the fun of it!” It seemed impossible, but Sun Mao Tsu’s smile widened as he drew his deft fingers along the length of the silver needle in his hands.
Arudan watched that needle, and felt a memory, long ago buried under years of aging, resurface. When he was very young, Arudan had wandered into the deep forest on his own and gotten lost in a briar patch. While attempting to find his way out, he’d slipped down a hill and careened towards a dry bush with thorns as long and sharp as the needle before him now. Fortunately, Arudan had grabbed a thick unearthed root and suspended himself just inches above the briar, barely saving his own life. Now the elf felt as if he was sliding down the same hill, except no roots were in sight.
Meanwhile, Ruskin found a puddle of mud to splash in.
Back in the temple, Keith was searching for the missing piece of the Steinbruch puzzle. “All I want to know,” he spoke slowly while pondering, “is what all this has to do with Mason Hobbs.”
“Mason Hobbs?” Sun Mao Tsu seemed surprised, yet still delighted, “I’d ask the villagers if I were you. Mm-hmm! I never questioned how they, ah-ha, achieved possession of the angel. I was simply happy to receive such a… gift. Mm-hmm!”
A muffled moan echoed from the back of the temple, and Keith new he had to take action. But it was just him and Arudan against this madman and his masked assistant. Keith was used to leading armies- not fighting solo.
Outside, Uel suddenly stood. Ruskin glanced up from his mud pile as the druid announced, “Keith and Arudan are my friends. I’m going to help them, even if none of you follow me.”
As Uel turned to stride towards the church, his crows following in v-formation, the villagers started to make eye contact, nodding and smiling as if all sharing the same idea. “I’ll grab some pitchforks,” one man spoke.
“I’ve got some torches,” another stood, and ran off towards his house.
Soon enough, the entire mob was darting back and forth, finding and exchanging simple weapons and riot gear. Ruskin grinned, and loped after Uel in his usual crouched fashion.
Keith felt sweat slowly dribbling down his brow. Sun Mao Tsu stood before him, still smiling from ear to ear, still fiddling with the long silver needle in his thin fingers. He wanted to take action. He wanted to unleash the fury of his flail, to defeat the evil that stood so passively before him. But Sun Mao Tsu seemed a step ahead at every corner. Keith felt utterly helpless, and Arudan looked no better. The blood had drained from his face, leaving him ghastly pale. Pale as a corpse. Keith shook his head quickly, to clear such thoughts from his mind.
“Sun Mao Tsu,” he began, summoning all his might to stare the priest in the eyes. ‘Sum Mao Tsu what?’ the little voice spoke inside his head. ‘What can you do? He’s got you beat. Might as well surrender and hope to get out of this in one piece.’
“Yes, Keith?” Sun Mao Tsu chuckled. There seemed to be no hesitation to his voice, no end to his confidence. This was a man who knew his sins, who had tamed his conscience, who had conquered his morals with an iron fist. Keith licked his lips nervously, a shiver working its way up his spine. He took a ragged breath to speak again, when-
BOOM!
The entire temple shook as the door buckled inwards. Keith could hear the shouts of villagers outside.
BOOM!
Dust, disturbed by the pounding at the door, floated down from the rafters, descended through the columns of light cascading from the stained glass windows.
BOOM!
Keith grinned. “Sun Mao Tsu,” he declared, power back in his voice, “the entire town is sick of you.”
BOOM!
“You are an infection, spreading your evil wherever your presence is felt.”
BOOM!
“And even the common man knows how to take care of infections.”
CRASH!
The towering stone doors burst open as villagers spilled in, clutching pitchforks, torches, and whatever makeshift weaponry they could find. Uel and Ruskin rode the wave of the mob, each enthused but a bit flustered by the spirit held in these townsfolk. “Sun Mao Tsu!” one villager yelled above the hubbub of the crowd. “Your terror ends now!”
The smile never left the priest’s face. That was the truly frightening thing, Keith would reflect upon later. With a few gestures, he chuckled, “Dmitri, we have company,” and vanished with a giggle.
“Stay on your guard,” Keith shouted, assuming the commanding role immediately, “Sun Mao Tsu could be anywhere!”
But Arudan Furivel’s attention was drawn to the crimson figure rounding the corner of the doorway. It was the masked Dmitri, and Arudan watched with curious eyes as the jester unsheathed a long, shining rapier from his belt. Immediately, Arudan’s face flushed with color. Things were on his terms now. “It’s all right, Keith,” he haughtily laughed, “I excelled at swordplay in school.” With a flourish, he flicked out his own rapier.
The two fencers stepped towards each other carefully, left foot crossing over right, right foot sweeping the dusty floor with silken boot. They edged towards each other, passing through pools of dim, dusty light, past thick stone columns etched with the records of ancient battles, over a broken stool and around a spilled puddle of holy water. Their sword tips quivered, eager for blood. Arudan’s mind whirled as he recalled lesson after lesson of fencing technique and etiquette. Thrust, flick, parry… it was all coming back now. Finally, the two swords crossed. Dmitri stared with his cold, flat mask from one side. Opposing him smirked Arudan. With a flourish of swords, so fast they seemed blurs of steel, the fight began.
“I know you’re there, Sun Mao Tsu!” Keith cried, brandishing his shield and flail in guard positions. “Come out and face me!”
“Oh, Keith,” the voice of Sun Mao Tsu echoed from… somewhere, “I did so hope you didn’t think me such a fool.” A giggle followed, floating in the air like a cold breeze- invisible, yet still raising goose bumps on Keith’s flesh. “Now I’d like to introduce you to something dear to my heat, Keith,” came the voice again. “It’s called the Needle of Endless Pain. Forged from hellburnt iron, it leaves a wound that never heals. I keep it around for… special occasions. Mm-hmm!”
“I’ll consider myself lucky then,” growled Keith, eyes casting around in the chaos of the mob of villagers.
“Oh, I hope you will!” Sun Mao Tsu giggled, directly behind! Keith twirled, but it was too late- he could feel a surging pain in his neck, just above his collarbone. Sun Mao Tsu grinned, rolling the blood-stained black needle between his fingers, admiring it in the tainted-glass light. Keith grimaced in pain, placing a palm on the wound at his neck. His hand came away doused in blood. “Tell me, Keith,” Sun Mao Tsu cried joyously, “how does it feel?”
In answer, Keith let out a roar and swung forward with his flail. Sun Mao Tsu raised his arms in alarm as the head of the flail came crashing towards him. Keith growled deep in his throat and continued to strike, pain gripping his mind.
Arudan leapt forward, thrusting with his rapier towards Dmitri’s shoulder- but the masked fencer side-stepped and pierced Arudan’s chest with his own sword. Arudan bit his lip, attempting to ignore the pain. His shirt was already stained with blood from other wounds- he wouldn’t last much longer. Arudan twirled and flicked high, but Dmitri ducked, slicing along Arudan’s thigh as he circled on his own. Arudan leapt backwards, passing by the raging Keith, and struck out with his rapier, barely catching Dmitri in the arm. But Dmitri pushed forwards, slashing twice, opening wounds along both of Arudan’s shoulders. As the elf’s vest blotted with crimson blood, he felt the world fade around him. The church began to twirl, scarlet tapestries smearing with amber-glassed windows, Dmitri’s mask staring blindly through the blackness closing in. Arudan spun once and fell into Dmitri’s arms, a rapier at his throat.
Sun Mao Tsu began to giggle again. Keith, agitated, lifted his mace to strike, but was interrupted. “Take another look at the one you, ah-ha, swore to protect, Keith,” Sun Mao Tsu called out. Keith turned to see Arudan held hostage by the masked Dmitri. “Make one move,” Sun Mao Tsu continued, jubilant as ever, “and his fine throat with be slit.”
On any other day, Keith might have retreated. On any other day, Sun Mao Tsu would have chuckled slowly, collected his angel and his masked assistant, and walked free. On any other day, Keith would have left an evil man to do his evil business elsewhere. But today, Keith was in a bad mood. The angel, the mob outside Mason’s house, and above all else Sun Mao Tsu filled his mind, stifled his caution, and pumped adrenaline through his veins. With a leap of faith, Keith dove through the air, barely soaring over Arudan and tackling Dmitri to the ground. “No!” Sun Mao Tsu cried, the smile finally fading from his face. With grim glee shining in his wicked eyes, he brought a handful of needles from beneath his robes. “You’ll pay for that, you retched scum!” Sun Mao Tsu slowly advanced upon Keith, but the commander smiled back. For behind the priest, eight crows rose into the air, melting from the shadows. Sun Mao Tsu cried out as the birds dove, talons slicing, beaks stabbing. Uel stood in the corner, calling out orders in a language only his crows could understand.
As the chaos unfolded in the middle of the temple, Joshua edged his way to the back of the room. All this battle was far too much for him. He couldn’t survive a sword to the shoulder or a needle to the neck. These heroes were crazy! The back room would be a much safer place to hide. Peeking through the doorway, Joshua found an unfathomable sight before his eyes. The angel Abadon was strapped to a stone table, wings bound with cords, hands tied to his sides to expose his chest. His skin was pale, and the puncture wounds that dotted his hide looked fresh- crimson blood ran from many. The angel glanced with foggy eyes at the boy in the doorway, and in a hoarse voice whispered, “Life… I need… life…”
Well, Joshua didn’t know quite what to think of this. The angel almost reminded him of the wilting plants in his mother’s garden after she had passed away. And Joshua only knew one way to take care of wilting plants. He glanced around the temple, spotting a pedestal of holy water only a few yards away. “I’ll be right back, sir!” he replied to the faint figure on the table. Joshua sprinted through the angry mob of villagers, plowing over an overweight pillager in the process. Joshua turned to apologize, and tumbled over the back of a pew. “Oh, dear,” he muttered, picking himself up and running to the pedestal. Scooping out the glistening water in a clay bowl, Joshua made his way back through the crowds, careful not to spill. Finally, he reached the angel again. “Life…” the celestial being continued to murmur, face beaded with sweat. Joshua lifted the bowl over the angel’s face, and began to pour. “I hope this works…”
Keith towered over the cowering Sun Mao Tsu. Ruskin prodded at the unconscious Dmitri, peeking beneath the solid mask and unsheathing his sword with child-like curiosity. Uel rustled through his pack, seemingly intent on finding an object. However, their commander’s attention was fully focused on the priest before him. “You…” he growled. “You…”
“Y-you can’t kill me!” Sun Mao Tsu sniveled. His smile was gone, replaced with a wide-eyed expression of fear. “Y-you’re one of the good ones! You can’t kill me!”
“Listen up, you angel-defiler!” Keith roared. The townsfolk rustling through the temple stopped cold at his thundering voice. “You are the worst human being I have ever come upon. You deserve nothing better than death!” With this accusation, Keith raised his flail over his head for one final blow.
“No.” a voice spoke, cutting clear through the anger and aggression. A white light burst through the back doorway, and Abadon the angel in his full glory flew out. His wings were expansive, white as snow, slowly sweeping up and down, sending swirls of dust fleeing from his floating feet. His skin literally glowed- the puncture wounds vanished. A slight steam seemed to rise from him, and his eyes burned with holy might. “Keith,” he spoke again with a voice reminiscent of church bells. “Put the flail down. This man is a token of sin, injustice incarnate. We must use the law to defeat him.”
The fury seemed to melt away from Keith’s face at the sight of the angelic being before him. Abadon continued, “I will take him to the celestial courts, where justice shall be served. Come with me, Sun Mao Tsu.”
The priest’s face was ghastly pale in the light of the angel, and he cried in a desperate voice, “No! No!” No longer in power, Sun Mao Tsu was as vulnerable as the angel he had tortured only hours before.
“Justice is at hand,” Abadon announced, enfolding Sun Mao Tsu in his glowing arms and flying slowly out of the church. As the angel and priest rose towards the heavens, the light slowly faded from the ravaged temple.
“Amen…” someone sighed from the crowds.
The silence was interrupted by a strum of a mandolin. Keith glanced over to see Uel with an odd instrument clasped in his pale hands. “I found this on the road. The eye on the mandolin is blind, just like Dmitri- this might just work.” He strummed again, and the crowd let out a collective gasp as a transformation took place over the fallen Dmitri. The gaudy crimson costume and black and white mask faded away, replaced by an old, weathered face and simple traveler’s clothes. A dirty cloth was tied over Dmitri’s eyes, and long peppered hair lay in a halo about his head. The blind man stirred, and, sitting up, rubbed his forehead. “Where am I?” he asked in a gruff voice.
“It’s a long story, friend,” Keith sighed, taking a seat on one of the stone pews. “And it’s best told over a drink.”
A man spoke up, “We don’t have any alcohol-”
“Water will do fine,” Keith interrupted, letting a slow smile illuminate his face.
Last edited:
Well this might just be my insider information. But I think I know a certain pasty faced elf, and a timid lip-quivering commander that might've described the fight a little differently... Regardless... It's good to see you writing again, I see our last session inspired you...
Lela
First Post
Return to us, he does indeed.
Once again, my bad poetry is freed.
Caught up from finals, I too return,
To watch that giggling evil git burn.
Blood pours and even angels scream.
But in the end, once again, heros bring dreams.
Welcome back to us, oh skeletal hoofed master,
Spiel us a yarn, but this time, spiel it faster.
Once again, my bad poetry is freed.
Caught up from finals, I too return,
To watch that giggling evil git burn.
Blood pours and even angels scream.
But in the end, once again, heros bring dreams.
Welcome back to us, oh skeletal hoofed master,
Spiel us a yarn, but this time, spiel it faster.
Similar Threads
