Kaustir, Chapter 2

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ARANIA VELKA
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Arania was surprised when Theo was left with her, H'kal leaving them. She put the miner onto the ground in a somewhat comfortable position, drawing bandages and the needed tools for treating him. She put her hands lightly onto the cuts on his back, and as they started to heal, she felt a burning pain in her back. She barely even flinched as sweat formed on her forehead, the rhythm of her breathing changing slightly. She looked down at his legs, and inwardly sighed. She'd be sore for a while after this...

She put a hand on each leg, and as the bones inside him healed, the pain was transferred to Arania's legs, and when she was done, her breathing wasn't far from heavy. She stood up slowly and looked at him.

"I fear that you will still be sore for a little while to come, but your bones are healed, and you should be able to work without too much trouble."
She cracked her shoulders and pulled her hair behind her head, tying it into a ponytail. She felt hot from the pain applied to different areas in her body. Her limbs were aching, and that was when her sensitive ears caught a roar coming from the direction of their barracks.

"Seiyr, call me what you want, but was that not Rakar's voice?" A dread filled her at this, and she reached for her bow. She had not bothered to take off the things she had been carrying, having no plans of sleeping in those barracks. Her body just couldn't relax.

"I'll find a viewing spot. I am no good in direct combat aside from my speed, and that's hindered now that I've used healing..." Arania grabbed onto the windowsill on one of the many houses, and before long, the agile Nocturne was on the roofs, finding a position from which she could see the area that they had come from. What she saw made her freeze with terror.

Big, horrifying, man-eating bugs were all over the place. Arania, not being suited for combat with a sword, seeked into hiding as she drew her bow. She aimed at one of the monsters, the sharp, poisoned arrow cutting through the air and hitting it almost exactly between the eyes. The monster hissed as it fell to the ground, spasming with the effects of the poison she had coated the tips of the arrows in. She sunk back into hiding before the bugs could notice her.

She was filled to the brim with fear, but her body felt frighteningly steady and calm. Her hands weren't shaking in the least, and her movements were composed as if she was merely doing everyday matters. When she had waited a few seconds to calm, she shot another arrow in the direction of a bug with its back to her, standing on a building. The arrow hit between the shoulder blades, and the bug fell onto the ground, almost hitting a soldier in the process. She took a mental note to only hit those on the ground.

In all of the rumble, he noticed Rakar desperately trying to get the General out of a bunch of rubble, with Takeda and K'Jol protecting his sides. She noticed a bug coming from their one blind spot, slowly as if trying to sneak in on them. Her hands acted before her brain could, and an arrow pierced the creature's neck, just below the chin. Screaming, the creature fell to the ground, its body twisting and jerking until it lied still. She allowed a moment of mental praise to herself for having poisoned those arrows. The trick was something she had with her from her time in Viridos, where creatures were waiting to eat her alive any moment. Thinking back then, she had been better at fighting, but now all that she ever practiced was her arrow, and she was not sure of her footing in direct hand-to-hand combat with large monsters.


It seemed that she had not been noticed yet, and she took a glance around the area of where she was. It was shadowed and she was hidden behind a stack of boxes with a cloth pulled over them. There would not come anyone here and find her. She bitterly thought to herself that if she died, it would be the same situation. But she had accepted this expedition on her own, she had decided to follow Seiyr into a place like this, because they had a similar view on the world. They understood each other in a peculiar manner, and even without acknowledging each other's presence, both knew where the other was.

Frantically, Arania searched for Seiyr in the crowd of fighting soldiers, but it did not seem like the engineer had appeared there yet.
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H'KAL
H'kal continued his search for the foreman. He was getting annoyed. All he wanted was to sleep and continue daily routine tomorrow. He asked the workers along the way, and all pointed towards the deeper tunnels. He strangely felt as if he were reaching the Forbidden Tunnels, but Foreman Henvit wouldn't have any business in there. He was about to turn and head back when he saw the explosive powder on the cold rock. He examined it, sniffing the dust. Potent, he thought. Something was going on.

His train of thought was interrupted, putting a halt to his mental investigation. Below the ground was shaking, the cracks causing the dust to sift and fall. An earth tremor? No. That couldn't be it. No matter, he would head back to the barracks, which were designed to withstand them. When he neared the sleeping quarters, his blood turned cold as he saw corpses strewn across the rocky floor. Blood splatters and entrails were on the floors, the walls, and even the ceiling. Asking a panicking miner what was going on, he discerned that giant insects were attacking, apart from his stutters and jumbles.

He rushed into the barracks, seeing the General's entourage under attack, while a Draken pried off a pile of rubble, and he saw an arm fall limply. The invaders were bursting through the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. The workers of Dorgrad were panicking and running wildly, falling off ledges and shoving each other. If they did not think clearly, then they would all die. He had a hard time thinking himself, but he pulled himself together. He activated his advent, his whip shaking vibrantly, and for the next minute he could command all who heard his whip. The first command filled the cavern as his whip cracked like lightning.

CALM

The workers slowed down their frantic actions. He had their peace for now, but panic would overcome them once more. He had to do this quickly. Another crack resounded in the barracks.

ARM YOURSELVES

FIGHT FOR DORGRAD

The workers started to fight the insects. They were no warriors, but they would make their last stand fighting. H'kal at least wanted to grant them the courage to do that. If they had ran, then they would have only died running. Now they had a chance to hurt their enemies until those who had the power to stop them arrived. He sent one worker to find the Ipari, another to alert the other barracks. They both ran as fast as they could, disappearing into the dark. H'kal turned and faced his foe, a beast with massive claws, and slavering jaws, deadly silent. His grip on his whip tightened. For Dorgrad!
 

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Seiyr
[dash=red]"Arania come back!" Seiyr yelled furiously. She watched the healer disappear, cursing under her breath. Briefly, she got a glimpse of the bug-creatures. Turning to Theo, she assisted the centaur up, her movements stiff with urgency. "Dammit! Can you walk. Theo? We're out of time. We have to find that weapon tonight."

The words of H'Kal played back into the engineer's groggy mind, and she couldn't help but somehow believe they were connected to the recent events. Screams echoed from the distance. Seiyr pulled out the tablet and gave it to Theo, explaining her theory with a spark in her eyes.

"The tablet is what led me to you, Theo. It connects to your Aux, speaking in tongues of old. That is the key to the puzzle. Follow the voices, for I believe they are of your kin. That is why only you can find the Divine Weapon. I'm afraid we can't wait for the others. They are taking care of the fighting. There are those who oppose our journey here… we must try to make haste!"

Seiyr kept her voice strong, but she knew her strength was near it's end. Theo fared no better. Even though this quest seemed doomed, she refused to give up. If the divine weapon lands in someone else's hands…. but what would happen if it landed in Lukesh's hands…? Silent trepidation once more ghosted the woman's footsteps as they made their slow progression through the living tomb that is Dorgrad.

She was afraid, truly afraid. Not for her life, or for the life of her comrades. She had travelled the world, serving as this man's eyes and ears. She had spoke of his name in disdain, hoping immaturely to strike up a challenge, to prove her worth. Her loyalty ran deep, and will always continue to do so.

She was afraid that He would betray his country.



And in turn, she would, too.[/dash]
 
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ARANIA VELKA
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Arania soon realized that she wouldn't be of much help, and she moved on her still agile feet down back to the streets, spotting Seiyr on her way with Theo. She had to see that... it was horrible thinking back, but they would be fine without her. There was more need for her with Seiyr now, seeing as she was the only one to assist Theo. No matter how useless she could be, one more person would not hurt.

"I'm sorry, Seiyr. I had to know. It seems that the General and everyone is fighting the bugs, and that's about it. They don't seem to be heading our way, so I assume that they aren't exactly intelligent." She said as they stood there, her glance returning to Theo more than once- she was worried that her healing hadn't been good enough. He didn't seem to be in horrible pain, and he'd take that as that he was alright. She looked at Seiyr, listening to her theory. It was interesting.

And she was right. They'd have to hurry. She looked at the engineer and moved a lock of hair out of her face.

Her mind briefly flickered as she thought about this Divine Weapon. It would be a disaster if it got into someone else's hands, but who was to say that it truly belonged to Lukesh...? She was scared to hand this seemingly invincible weapon over to a potential enemy, but she had a feeling that it was also not safe to bring it the Czar. Everything felt like a gray zone and she knew now that she had gotten herself into something way bigger than she was supposed to with her social standing. She was in the middle of one of the most important things since many years in the past, a turning point for history.

No one knew what exactly this so-called "weapon" was capable of, but what if it went beyond even the strongest of magic? The simple thought made Arania shiver.

Her gaze did not falter and she looked at Seiyr with a serious expression, and in an instant she realized that they were thinking the same thing.
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Theo the Miner
"My kin...?" Theo looked down at the tablet he had been handed yet again. He understood what she was implying and the urgency with which she spoke, but it was difficult to focus. The pain in his body was still there, even if it had lessened dramatically, and the cacophony of terror beyond was ringing in his ears, growing ever louder.

As he was about to hand it back to her, he heard H'Kal's command. It helped soothe the chaos in his mind, enough that he felt able to examine the tablet again. Reading the inscribed map wouldn't be enough. Exhaling, he tried to block out the noises around him and reached out with his instincts to the tablet. What lay within it? What was it made of?

Its composition was the same as the rocks he had felt in the blocked off chamber. That fit with what he already suspected. But it also seemed aligned to something else, something lower.

He turned around, facing down the passage he had originally come from.

"Alright then," he said, "Follow me."
 
Dorgrad, grey
She slept, in the bunk. The five of them had insisted on it to Amalia. A double. The furskin, glued to her body, was no warmer than the cloak she had worn in the desert, and did not bother her.

She felt it first, before anyone else. The horror made no sound as it flowed 'twixt the beds and bodies, but she could feel an immense pressure on her body. But she made no sound. That was the instinct, drilled into her since adoption into the military.

She still made no sound as the horror's blade slid into her, parting fat and flesh, though if she could think, screaming would have been natural. To alert the others. But this was her instinct, as she was trained.

Sun forgive her. Everyone faces death only once.

The second Wraith sat a hundred paces higher in elevation. Her death meant that he could signal, and he lit a flare, tossing it into the air. The fifth, at the top of the mine shaft, caught the dim, then increasingly bright signals, and dashed towards the outcrop of Ipari barracks, littered across the mine entrance like territorial scorpions.

The first Ipari he met was Warden Bracht. For warriors across Kaustir, loyal to one cause, little needed to be said even if they had grown up in separate parts and never met. Hammer met wooden plank, a quick staccato. Trouble in the mines. Something from above -- or from deep inside, was loosed on the workers below. Fifty guards assembled at the mine's lip - but away from the main entrance. Each one was clad in their own unique armour, their own weapons and implements jangling on belts fastened across every part of the body.

There would be no showing off of technique, or blustering one-upmanship between the Wraiths and Ipari. Each understood their place.









"WHO ARE WE?"

An horror erupted nearby, from a sinkhole. It slithered towards them, jaws clacking, scythes extended. The waves its feet drummed into the sand set a series of ropes and bells jangling.

"IPARI!"

Not one Ipari looked back as the insect was pincushioned, a thousand metal spears exploding out of the sand below it.

"Who is the only one allowed to deal death to the Equals of Dorgrad?"

"THE CZAR!"

As one, each member of the contingent latched a ratchet onto a steel rope and leapt off the edge, in a free fall rappel. A second set of fifty guards waited at the lip. The Wraith smiled behind his mask. Perhaps they were putting a show on after all.

Punishment would be swift. The invaders deaths, would not.
 
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First Rakar found her shoulder, cut open by a jagged rock. The next rock he moved revealed her head, a trail of blood coursing through her hair, down her cheek, and over her neck. The general's eyes were closed, but the sound of Rakar's booming voice and his words elicited a soft exhale. Her eyelids twitched and she coughed.

"Ribs... Broken. Get people to... Safety."

She tried to move her hand, but it was still crushed underneath the rubble. The general needed to get up, she needed to help her party and heal those who were wounded. Matil meowed kindly, butting her head against Amalia's. Her Aux's image was sputtering and growing more translucent.

Whatever sounds that existed in the tunnel were quickly muffled. Her eyes opened, but her vision was blurry and obscured by the dirt. The left side of her head pounded in agony and Amalia couldn't hold on any longer. Her entire world was swimming, but she needed to do something and Matil understood that.

She wrenched her hand free from the rocks, splitting her knuckles open. Her body might have been beaten, but her spirit and passion burned like the sun. Matil crooned to Coros and disappeared into Amalia, the Crux glowing with a warm golden light. Amalia reached over and laid her hand over Rakar. Coros, seeming to understand what the sand cat wanted, sunk into Rakar.

"Kill them for me. For us."

A great surge of energy entered Rakar's body. His heart beat powerfully against his chest, his breath became steady, and his muscles for another fight. Amalia fought to remain conscious before the blood loss, concussion and broken ribs kicked in and overrided her senses. Her hand grew slack and both Coros and Matil emerged.

Rakar had his Advent restored and Amalia fell into darkness.
 


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K'Jol heard the loud shriek behind him and quickly turned around to see the beast clawing at it's own neck to attempt to get something out of it. He walked back, unsure of what the creature was doing before it went still. The Draken had no idea how the creature died but he closed his eyes for a moment, wishing a blessing upon whoever had slain the beast. After saying his silent words he ran over to Rakar, seeing Amalia with various injuries. He widened his eyes in horror, seeing that her eyes were closed and knelt down to listen to her heartbeat. A sigh left his lips as he rose, relieved that Amalia was in a stable condition. His head turned in the direction of Rakar before nodding.

"Good job. I'm just wondering as to why these things ke-"

His sentence was interrupted by a loud rumble come from a wall behind the group. K'Jol quickly turned back, seeing two grotesque insects with large, bulging abdomens. The two beasts did not even look in the direction of the group. Their eyes searched around the room, saliva spilling from both of their mouths.

"What the fuck..."

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The insects then began to frantically scratch their steel mandibles against the floor of the mines, making a loud scratching sound. The unbearable sound disoriented both Draken. K'Jol gripped his halberd tightly as he leaned into the wall behind himself, gasping deeply as if he were losing all air. The scratching stopped, and the insects took off. Great gusts of wind battered the group on the ground as insects began to make various gagging sounds. The abdomens of the beasts expanded exponentially and finally they fired. Two large balls of fire flew straight at Rakar and K'Jol. The famed warrior quickly jumped to his side, the ball of fire exploding against the wall and making a large crater. Out of the hole above came two more mantis creatures, each letting out shrieks as they stamped about the ceiling of the mines.

They needed help, and they needed it soon.

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As Amalia's soldiers fought for their very lives a voice echoed from above with the ferocity of an volcano. "IPARI! EXTERMINATE THE ENEMY!!" A gout of superheated magma erupted from the floor of the cavern, incinerating swathes of bugs as shadowy figures descended from above. Dropping down amongst the ring of soldiers the Ipari made their counterattack, Nils gave a series of quick hand signals and the defenders of Dorgrad fell upon the swarm of bugs like angry hellions. A cadre of heavily armored figures thudded to the ground around Amalia and nodded to K'jol and Rakar. "Well met fellow soldiers, we are here to defend the General Lortik." The leader lifted his visor and revealed a heavily scarred draken face, "It is an honor to fight with you, now show us how outsiders fight!" Hefting a gigantic spiked mace the huge draken smashed a charging bug like it was an annoying cockroach. The other draken raised their longswords, halberds and maces and roared into battle.

Nocturnes and humans alike spread out amongst the outer ring of defenders, armed with war axes, scimitars, and homemade explosives the skirmishers went to work distracting the bugs from the injured and caused the swarm to boil in confusion as explosions and metal halted the rushing wave. In the shadows above dark shapes could be seen diving and slashing at the monsters attached to the walls. Bat anima used their long serrated swords to cut the bugs legs, causing them to plummet to the floor and crush their brethren beneath them. Between the giant drakens and the ring of skirmishers mages and warlocks summoned their magical energies to assist their comrades and annihilate the bugs. Flames and metal killed bugs by the dozens while other mages imbued everyone's weapons with sparking magefire or healed the wounded. What had once been a desperate last stand had now turned into ferocious and dedicated counter-assault.
 
H'KAL

The draken lashed the monster across the leg, breaking the chitin. Ichor oozed out of the wound. The insect retaliated by bashing H'kal with its claw, causing him to fly backwards.

The arrival of the Ipari were a welcome sight. He rose up, hand on his drake fire vial, just in case things turned worse, and it looked like it would, soon. He slithered to the beast he was fighting, now preoccupied by the Dorgrad workers chipping away its carapace with their picks and shovels. He wrapped his tail around the insect's legs, then pulled, causing a crunch to be heard, followed by a screech and the spray of green ooze.

The mages had arrived, greatly adding to their defense. It didn't seem like enough. The invaders kept pouring in from holes and continued their slaughter. They had to get out. H'kal didn't know where to go. The outside was poisonous and even more dangerous. They were trapped.

He kept thinking and thinking, but snapped out of it right in time to duck as the creature swung its claw at him. He wrapped his whip around the claw, pulled it in, then broke it off with his arms. He jabbed it into the creature, causing it to gurgle and spit out blood.

The workers near him cheered in victory, but H'kal soon found his face to the floor as another insect shoved him forward. He could feel blood pouring from his back. He slowly got up, head groggy and his back stinging. He saw Theo and the others headed for the lower mines. His vision was watery, but when he saw the tablet in Theo's hands he knew that they were doing something important. Something related to all this.

The blackpowder... What was going on? Why was Henvit seen down there? He crawled towards them. He would follow them. They weren't safe.
 
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If hell were a real place, it would not be much different from Dorgrad at this very moment. That was the thought that ran through Rakar's mind as the reality of things sank in. No... this entire nation was Hell. The Long March taught him that long ago. It devours the weak with an insatiable appetite, and saves the strong for dessert.

Rakar had removed all of the rubble covering Amalia, just in time to have Coros enter him again. At first he had no idea what was going on, but it became clear within moments. He could feel it. Amalia had used her advent to restore his. Even at this moment, when she needed help the most, she was trying to help him and the others. When she fell limp, something odd occurred.

All was silent. The unmistakable sounds of iron and steel, of screams and yells, life and death, chaos. It was all so very silent. The draken was on his knees when his General used her advent on him, and his eyes were now fixed upon her unconscious body. She looked so familiar at that moment. It was happening all over again. Despite the overwhelming feeling of despair that struck him as he gazed at her frail form, her advent kept him calm. It brought him back to his senses, and suddenly everything roared around him again. She wasn't dead yet, he knew that, and he wasn't about to let history repeat itself. He would succeed this time. She would survive.

He stood up and turned just in time to have his ears bombarded with a loud scratching sound, coming from two different looking, red bug beasts. It was unbearable, as if it was coming from inside his own head. He tried covering his ears, and held his ground. The scratching stopped, but the red bugs weren't finished yet. They flew up and from them came 2 fireballs, one aimed at Rakar and the other for K'Jol. Unfortunately, the one aimed for Rakar was by coincidence aimed at Amalia too.

It was a split second decision, but he knew that he could not let Amalia be struck, and had no time to move her. So he used the gift that she had given him, and Aux merged with Crux once again as Rakar threw his arms up in front of him in an X, planted his feet, and braced himself, using a technique he learned to withstand hard frontal impacts. The fireball hit it's mark dead on, exploding against Rakar's body. There was a flash, followed by a small cloud of dust and smoke, but after a few moments, Rakar emerged in one piece. He had used his advent, Dragon Armor, just in time to make his body virtually indestructible for the second time not only in one day, but in less than 10 minutes thanks to Amalia.

He had been knocked on his ass by the blast and was disoriented. Normally, if he had his shield, taking such an impact wouldn't be so bad, but when his body was the shield things were different. If Amalia hadn't used her advent to restore his, then one or both of them would have been dead now. His clothing was on fire, and instead of trying to extinguish the flames, he tore the clothes off instead as he pushed himself to his feet. He was naked, shieldless, and would soon be physically drained and nearly defenseless, but damn it, he and the General were alive, and he was going to use what little remaining time of his advent he had to keep it that way.

Rakar called out to the leader of the Ipari guards who addressed him and the others.

"Get a damned healer over here! The General is down and severely injured. I don't know if she can last until we've finished dealing with these things!"

He stood near her still, slashing down any beast who came to close to Amalia. He feared no injury for the moment, but it was only a handful of seconds until his advent would wear off. Once that happened...
 
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Avarath - The Draken Rebellion, brown

"We are the descendants of mighty dragons! Not slaves to these blood-suckers!" A magisterial voice calls out over a crowd. The crowd, several hundred, are gathered in a cave outside the city limits of Avarath. All present are draken.

A great amount of torches light up the hollow underground system. It is to keep them warm, so they can focus on Zarathustra as he speaks. The cave is deep, a set of minor passages must be passed before you enter the main area.

"They see us as nothing but war-machines!" He says with power. "...Toooools'sss for their selfish desires!" He follows up with composure. Zarathustra gestures with his entire body as he speaks, moving his eyes through the crowd. They are all watching him with great attention. He has done this before.

"But that is about to change, brothers and sisters..." He says, left arm raised in the air with a finger pointing to the ceiling.

*****

Meanwhile, in Avarath.

Bellampalle Square downtown is a trendy part of town hip with the high class youth. The Shprintze cafè bar is frequented heavily by the nocturne elite.

The bar is almost full, it is lunch time.

Those who choose to sit outside are well hidden from the sunlight. The area is adorned with dark-coloured drapes, only making the impression that others are excluded stronger. The restaurant is divided into two areas. Split by a pony wall. One side is bigger than the other, here are the long tables, where the guests are sitting. On the other, smaller side, is where the menu sits. No tables, only a line of chairs placed up against the wall. Dreary looking bodies of all races.

On the opposite side of the street, three draken dressed in black baggy outfits stand, hoods masking their identities.

They walk up slowly to the patio. Moving in a triangle formation. The one up front stops just in front of the drapes and takes a few deep breaths. The other two stand behind her. Some of the nocturnes inside start turning their heads to look.

The draken takes one last breath, expanding her arms out to the side, hands tense as if she is squeezing something resistant together as her arms move inward to ward her torso with great strength.

"Raam Raam Japna Paraya Maal Apna*!!!"

She screams these words as a fireball shoots out of her.

The impact is enormous! Bricks, chunks of wood and glass shoot out of the building like an explosion!

The two draken who stood behind her catch the fire mage as she collapses into their arms. They make a run for it and disappear in the ensuing turmoil.

*****

Zarathustra continues. "Who represents us?" He paces at a slow tempo to the very right of the natural stage made of stone he stands on. "Who cares about our troubles?"

Dead silence.

"The politicans? Nooo..."

"The merchants? Nooo..."

Zarathustra paces some more before he adds in a nonchalant matter.

"Zirako?....No."

Some in the crowd chukles.

"They don't care about us! Self-centered....narcissistic...greedy..."

"The mayor of Avarath is certainly not our friend..." He turns and gazes at the listeners. "...all he wants is to fatten his pocket! And hear the masses shout his name in devotion!"

Some shout, others boo, all acknowledging the notion.

"K'larr...oh, our dear old friend K'larr..."

The noise of the crowd picks up by the mention of the name.

"Who here hasn't been cheated by his devious theatrics? What did he do when the Czar came to town?!"

The roar from the crowd climax.

"THE FAT FUCK FLED THE TOWN!!!"

The roar turns to mocking laughter.

*****

Back in Avarath, Jamui Palace, the city hall. Situated in the administrative part of the city.

Another draken trio approach, walking the steps up to the entrance where two city guards greet them. Same procedure.

"Raam Raam Japna Paraya Maal Apna!!!"

The front part of the building breaks down, big blocks of mass crashes and rolls down the stairs. Neither guards nor attackers have a chance of escaping certain death.

*****

Zarathustra speaks.

"They want us to do the hard work! Work for fatherland! Work for the Desert Sun!" He spits on the ground in distaste. "Slavery...at it's finest...perceived as honest labour! Call it...Worker's Paradise!..."

*****

Near the harbour, in an industrial area.

The 'Yish Yash Brewery' is famous all throughout Kaustir. It is known for being cheap enough for the poor to afford. The business has been in nocturne hands since the beginning, they don't drink the stuff themselves.

A familiar scene erupts. A draken worker overseeing the carbonation of the beer spots them, saying "Oh no." with a shivering voice as he recognizes what is about to happen.

"Raam Raam Japna Paraya Maal Apna!!!"

A fire starts, a massive explosion with flames launching high into the sky bursts up, coming down like lashing whips spreading over the nearby urban landscape. The gargantuan phenomenon can be seen from miles away.

*****

One by one, alarm bells all over Avarath start to chime as city guards posted on the roof tops spot at least a dozen different fires – at the same time.

Down below, chaos and terror spreads. Some are able to keep their poise. Shopkeepers grabbing what merchandise they can. Mothers carrying their children away from the burning inferno. Looters seizing the opportunity. Guards attempting to control the flames. The smell of smoke and burning flesh reeks.

*****

"Now is the time to take action into our own hands, brothers and sisters! This is the day we show them our fury!"

Thus spoke Zarathustra.

The crowd cheers in unison.





*Hindi idiom translated as "pretending to be like a saint but having a very greedy nature."
 
Dorgrad Chamber Nine
Something trod on H'Kal's tail. The enforcer jerked to a halt, and as he spun his jaw was gripped.

K'Jol hauled the mine enforcer to his feet and held a severed mantis claw to his temple. "You're the whipping boy. Where's your foreman, Whipping Boy?"

There was a hiss and a clunk. H'Kal pressed the drake fire vial under K'Jol's jaw. Now they each had the other by the throat. "Hands off, Green-Scale!"

K'Jol chuckled and jostled the explosive liquid at his jawline. "Go ahead. Blow off both our heads. I'll be the prettier corpse. And you'll have a traitor's burial."

H'Kal's tail whipped around the other Draken's legs. "Your balls will be blown off first. My foreman's emptied the black powder reserves. He's rigging the lower tunnels while you flirt with me!" He reared to equal height with the Draken officer. "Now back the fuck off so I can save your fat hide!"

Close by, Warden Bracht pulled her sword from the second winged drone, Advent fire blazing on her scimitar. It snuffed out as she sheathed it and stalked between the corpses. Couching between Rakar and Amalia, she placed a hand on the unconscious General's shoulder. "You are a leader of men after all."

It was fair comment. Across the expanse of Chamber Nine, amid mage-fire smoke and armoured shadows, the workers stood back-to-back with Ipari and Expeditionary. From the frailest miner to the shrewdest veteran, the people of Dorgrad had made their stand against the insects. Fully fifty drones, massive and nightmare-varied, lay twitching between the clusters of allies. Bugs slain by pickaxe frenzy, charred by fireballs, sliced by Ipari blades - the battle had been won a dozen ways.

From the disheveled barracks behind them, the corpse of the Wraith that had lain in Amalia's bed was being carried out.

"This was no random attack," Hakal told the Warden. "They were looking for General Lortik."

Bracht looked to him, nodding, thinking quickly. "There are outbreaks on the surface too. A hive, no doubt - in full swarm."

Takeda and Nils peeled from the smoke to join them, wiping sweat and ichor from their skin. "This was to keep us from the tunnel - the place the Minotaur spoke of."

"Warden, we must find Theo. And we must find that tunnel." Nils gave his superior that old look - that look that meant the darkest of business.

There was a shout from across the chamber. They saw K'Jol waving, with his arm around H'Kal. From a distance, it wasn't clear if the two Drakens were hugging or wrestling. "My friend here knows the way!"

Warden Bracht drew her sword and shouted over her shoulder. "Ipari! Stay with the General. The healers tend to her first." She rose and looked to the others. "Let's go."

The heroes moved out, following H'Kal through the feeder tunnels. Rakar and Takeda moved with them, and paused only briefly to watch the Wraiths bear Amalia away to the barracks.


Dorgrad Chamber Fifteen
Heaps of black powder hugged the main ore faces, and sacks were stuffed into ceiling cracks. Generous lines joined one to the next, and formed a lattice over the tunnel floor.

Foreman Henvit sweated and gasped, backing away with the last bag and leaving a trail to his corner alcove. Finally his patience cracked and he tossed the bag aside before fumbling with his flint stone. His steel striker gleamed and he scraped it against the flint, once, twice, each pass bringing sparks but no cigar. He snarled and tried again.

"Drop it!"

The Draken spun and released a startled hiss. Further down the tunnel, a fire-lit trio were approaching. Arania held a lamp high and struggled to keep Theo's arm across her shoulder, while Seiyr held up the Anima on his other side and glared straight at Henvit. "What in Sun's name are you doing?"

The Foreman screamed and snatched a dagger from his belt, hurling it straight for them. "Look out!" Theo cried and brought his weight forward, twisting from the grip of his companions. He took the blade in his flank before it could strike Arania, and as it pierced through skin and haunch muscle he fell. Arania dropped with him and stumbled under Theo's weight. But Seiyr went forward. The engineer collided with the foreman and seized both wrists as he tried to spark the flint again.

Draken and human wrestled. Neither was akin to combat. Grunts and gasps echoed through the tunnels as they slammed each other against the walls. Henvit fell and Seiyr rolled with him, wrenching the striker from his hands. But Henvit's cobra head twisted at alarming angles and he closed his jaws around her shoulder. Seiyr screamed. Arania abandoned Theo and ran to her aid, but the foreman was already on his feet. He grabbed the now empty mine cart and rammed it hard against the girl. She fell back and the lamp dropped from her hand to shatter on the ground.

Fire leapt. As eager sprites the flames shot along the lines of black powder.

It was over.

"NOOOO!!!" Seiyr planted her foot square on Henvit's spine and knocked him straight into the mine cart, the momentum carrying him and his transport into the wall near Theo. Then the engineer turned, dropped to her knees, and raised both hands with Advent magic. The black powder flames rushed either side of her then reared into the air as her Advent activated. She directed the energy upwards, channeling fire into the ceiling and away from the powder heaps. The inferno bloomed above and around her, but was kept at bay from the main explosives.

"Nghhhhhrrrrr!!!" The effort was exhausting; the heat intense. She could not hold it for long.

Time was running out.

An inside the mine cart, Henvit was rising once more, a fresh dagger in his hand.
 
Story of Nu
Many seasons past...
I am Nu of the Waste Wefts. My people have wandered the Scorched Land for generations, weaving stories of the desert to adorn. I was born in the season of the cobra. I have a mother, a father, four brothers, and a tribe. Father says that my name means ‘girl’ and that is all that needs to be said. By the next tide of the sea below, I will be married to a son of the firewalkers.

There are some stories I do not weave. Instead, I adorn them here, inside of my own mind. Only I can see them and this brings me happiness. My secret adornments.



The mirror sands of the wastes mimicked the colors of the sky. It was the slight hours of the morning, that brief moment between night and day before the sun rose. The sands caught the muted indigo of sky, cast amongst the whites and pinks. It was Nu’s favorite time of the day, when all was still quiet in their nomad’s camp, and she could slip away to hunt for desert hare or fowl in peace. Above, her Aux made slow, wide circles.

There was a shape in the distance, on top of the highest dune, too large to be any prey. Nu smiled in recognition, her pulse and pace quickening as she darted across the sands. “Knox!” She huffed as she skittered up the steep dune. The black-winged avian watched her ascent. He had sought shelter with her people three days ago, when a sandstorm raged across the desert. The outsider had been grateful to them, and more than willing to help where he was needed. But in three days Knox had said little of himself or where he wandered, he wore no adornments of his tale. Nu’s curiosity burned and more than once, Knox would raise his head, catch her gaze and hold it. Nu would always look away, then.

But now, as she joined him atop the dune, with the fair winds whipping their clothes, Nu felt her first real pang of regret. “Were you really going to leave without saying goodbye?”

Knox shook his head, moving to shield her from the gale. “Please don’t be offended. I didn’t want to wear my welcome any thinner.” He spoke in the tongue of her people for Nu did not possess a high command of the common dialect.

“You could always stay a little longer.” She pressed. “My father says avians bring good fortune.”

“I have someone important waiting for me in Dorgrad.”

The name of the city was a foreign sound, strange in their language. But Nu discerned the meaning. “A woman?”

“A queen.”

“What is queen?” Nu tested the word, her own voice sounding strange to her.

“More beautiful than the Desert Sun.” His hand, gloved in sheep skin, caressed her cheek, brushing errant strands of her dark hair. “The Queen of Scythes will rise and cull the wicked who pillage and rape this land.” He withdrew his hand, leaving Nu bereft of the affection, and peered into the distance. “She has called me to her aid and I must go.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

Knox did not answer, he left Nu with a silver talisman: two rapitorial legs of a mantis crossed. Two crossed scythes.
 
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Story of Nu
The first time they came, Nu's tribe was not ready. Their vanguard hid a group of three Inquisitors.

"I do not --"

"That is not an acceptable answer."

The Nocturne unleashed his scimitar in frustration, and the Elder's head fell to the ground, his hands twisted in front of him in demented supplication.

Of course, this was not the right way for Inquisitors to act. But they were used to the fear and submission that the masks, wrought from gold and brass, brought to anyone who had heard of the Czar. The only problem was that Nu's tribe did not know of the Sun Who Shone On All, and soon the first group was fertilizing cacti on a nearby dune.

They were prepared for the second group. But it didn't matter.


~​

"Do you know what religion is like?"

"Wound-rot."


He placed the tip of a dagger on the tapestry between them.

"All it takes is the smallest opening ... "

Twisting.

"And it festers." The intricate patterns she had so carefully stitched frayed, her memories falling apart.

"The edges of the wound foul. And worst of all, anyone who touches it becomes sick too."

He reclined on a stack of books behind him. "Disgusting agents of disease." They had tracked the flow of talismans throughout the Czar's empire. The books too, horrible bibles of lies that infected the minds of citizens, the foundation of their civilization.

"And it all comes back to you." He reached behind him and withdrew a dripping head that once belonged to one of her brothers' body. Wrapped around its neck was an insect talisman. "Cut the head off, and maybe the rot stops. You've made it really difficult for me."

Lut tossed the head in front of her.

"Before you die and burn with your books ... "

"Would you like to make a last confession?" His eyes and mouth were screwed with irony, delight dancing across his face, smug in his victory.
 
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Story of Nu
Many seasons past...

The girl could not answer, confess, or even plead for mercy. She did not possess the language this nocturne spoke. And what could she say? That she thought she had been the only one Knox had gifted a talisman too? That she did not know he had dispersed them, in three days, amongst her people?

In the end, they dragged her out onto the sands, and threw her, still living, into the dead piled high. A lone vulture circled above, waiting for the feast of witches and heretics. Lut Sar, from his protection under a wide parasol, gave the signal. Their flesh was doused in oil, which erupted into flames upon contact with the slightest spark. The Czar’s inquisitors watched the Waste Wefts burn. So it goes in the Scorched Land.

Then Lut heard a scream that he would never forget.

From the burning corpses, she emerged, gripping a broken arrow torn from one of the fallen. One of his Inquisitors rushed the girl, intent on subduing her. Quick as thought, she struck his bronze mask with her palm, tipping it back, exposing his throat ever so slightly... Then. In. Out. 1. 2. The arrow pierced his jugular. Withdrew. She divested him of his bow. He fell to the sand and drowned in his own blood. Done.

The girl wasn’t.

The vulture, her Aux, swooped down behind her, unfurling its black wings to halo her body against the sun. She was death and rage incarnate. And she had come for Lut.

The arrow had no fletching. She would have to get close.

The girl knelt before Lut Sar, arrow notched. Released.

His beetle flew out, glowing with Advent light.

The arrow deflected. Instead it caught the flesh at the corner of his mouth, ripping away everything between lip and ear. Exposed jaw bone, muscle, gums, fangs...
 
Dorgrad Chamber 15
Arania recovered her senses and scrambled to her feet, kicking stray flames from her pant leg. Her lantern had shattered and the powder ignited. She saw Seiyr ahead of her, hands outstretched to a laurel of flames. She was freezing the explosion in mid-event. Someone had to h--

The healer's pendant burned, the Advent activating as her soul screamed out. Arania spun and saw the dagger leave Henvit's hand. She pulled her shoulder back, and the blade spun by to clatter into the wall. It had missed her by inches.

"Raaaagh!" With a cry of fury, the shadow of Theo rose up behind the cart. The Anima's arm snaked around Henvit's throat and yanked backwards. The Foreman was pulled from the cart and against the massive body of the minotaur. He hissed; he squealed and thrashed. But Theo did not let go. The miner was blinded by rage and heartache, the long years of oppression erupting into this single act, this desperate act. Theo pulled his arm tighter, closing the Draken's throat, and Henvit's cries became sickening and choked.

"This way!" hissed H'Kal as he led the others into the tunnel. They turned the corner and plunged into the inferno, stopping only when they saw the foreman on the ground, legs twitching in death throes as he was strangled by Theo. Both H'Kal and Warden Bracht flinched, but moved no further to stop the murder. Perhaps they each saw the truth of these moments.

Or perhaps it was the fire.

Takeda, Nils, Rakar and K'Jol rushed forward to where Seiyr knelt and beheld the arc of flame above her - the explosion held in mid-blossom.

"I CAN'T HOLD IT!"

Takeda's mind moved swiftly. He had seen Nils' advent on the night before. He spun to the Ipari. "Lungs!"

Nils understood and dashed in, sliding across the ground to land beside Seiyr. His mouth gaped wide and noxious gas spewed, falling in viscous droplets on the floor around them. The liquid bound with the blackpowder, leaching and neutralizing it. He nodded to Warden Bracht, who tossed her breather mask to him. Catching it, he rammed it hard against Seiyr's face.

Takeda's advent activated and he broke into a sprint, his outline blurring. "K'Jol, the cart!" Even as he spoke, the swordsman was leaping wall to wall, from floor to ceiling, snatching the embedded bags of blackpowder. He bundled them against him, working in a blur towards the far end of the tunnel.

K'Jol and Rakar moved as one, their muscles bulging as they lifted the mine cart by either end. Seiyr screamed out. Her Advent faded. Nils threw his arms around her. Takeda braced against the far wall. Bracht pulled Arania clear and H'Kal covered Theo. The explosion resumed.

And with a mighty hurl, K'Jol and Rakar tossed the upended mine cart to land on top of Seiyr and Nils. The fire scorched the tunnel and dented the underside of the cart. The two Draken were blown off their feet, and Takeda was showered in debris.

Fire_by_faestock_zps09ffec80.jpg

There was silence.

The smoke cleared.

Takeda peeled away from the far wall, leaving an outline of dust. The blackpowder bags were clutched in arms, safely stowed, a greater disaster averted. And across from him, Theo, H'Kal, Arania and Bracht sat up with soot-covered faces. Rakar was groaning and holding grazed chest and arms.

While K'Jol was the first to stand.

"You have a weasel's brain, East-Man," he remarked as he got up and shed several layers of dust. The Draken stalked over to the upended mine cart and tapped the charred wood and metal. "Hmm... let's see what we cooked." With another mighty haul he tipped the cart over and away.

And underneath, in pool of neutralized powder, the blackened, bleeding faces of Nils and Seiyr looked up.

"Ow, you dicks!"

Takeda dropped the bags and stood up straight, beholding his fellow survivors. He was the first to start laughing.
 
A woman's laughter joined Takeda's. The swordsman paused, looked to Seiyr... Arania...Warden Bracht.

None were laughing.

As the smoke settled, a hole was revealed in the mine wall opposite them. A vast network of water-worn tunnels lay on the other side. The laughter echoed from above.

Takeda, nerves as still as the stone around him, peered through to the other side and beheld the Queen of Scythes. She hissed, her beautiful face twisted in hate.

"Pests!"

In a flurry of wings and rapitorial legs, she crawled up into darkness. Gone.


queenofscythes_zps26561ca8.jpg



End of Chapter 2
 
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