mtygalvatron

[mtygalvatron]

Attention Shoppers

“Attention Shoppers,

Due to no staff we’re closed.

No one wants to work anymore.”

So says you, paper sign,

but perhaps your owner’s past actions

reveal something more malign.

Wages set so low,

but high enough to avoid legal action.

Abusive behavior,

that cause the mind to fracture.

The inconsistent hours,

that let you avoid the taxer.

The bruises and burns,

that you force us to ignore.

So that you can acquire more and more.

But we’ve had enough little sign,

Your owner will soon find,

That it’s not that we don’t want to work anymore

But that we’ve found that our souls are worth so much more.

[mtygalvatron]

The Girl and the Lost City

The city around him was stagnant, covered in a layer of snow. Still, silent, dead. It had been like that for what has felt like centuries since the plague came and took his friends, his family. It took them all one by one until he was the only one left and only thanks to his knowledge of the necromantic arts that he learned in his vain attempt to stop the plague has he alone survived. He looked at the skeletal hand that he possessed. Was this really surviving?

           He made a fist with that hand and directed his will into it. In a flash of light, the dead snow-covered city transformed. The cobblestone streets were no longer in disrepair, the ruined crumbled buildings were brought back to their former glory and the sun shined with a bright light. The people came back as well, merchants selling their goods in carts, the brave knights clad in shining armor mounted on their equally well-armored horses traveled down the roads making a show of power.

Most importantly, she was there. With her amber skin and hair as gold as honey. At her waist, a child was clinging to her watching the knights and horses ride by with bright eyes and hope of becoming a knight himself one day instead of becoming a mage like his father before him. It would have been fine, as long as he was still alive that would have been fine for him. He tried to run his dead hand through the child’s hair, but it was only met with air. He knew better that none of this was real, that it was an illusion. Yet time and time again, for a moment, he would forget that and try to cling on to something tangible.

Moments later, the illusion would disappear, the world returned to its cold dead state. Leaving the undead man on his knees alone once again in his lonely frozen hell. He would play out these illusions every day trying to keep this city’s memory alive, his family’s memory alive in the only ways he knows how.

Then something shifted in the corner of the man’s eye. Something was here? How? Nothing should have gotten through the walls and wards placed to keep the plague away from the outside world. Questions were flooding his mind, but the foremost one was who or what that was, and he intended to find out. He got back on his feet with a vigor not seen since his living days and dashed where he saw movement. The small figure moved away with great haste and speed, darting into a nearby alleyway but the man gave chase. He needed to know, he hadn't spoken to anyone in ages, he has been cut off from the outside world for so long.

He turned into the alleyway, but there was no sign of the figure. Had he imagined the whole thing? Was his sanity starting to leave him after so long? Before he could ponder any further, he felt something tear into his robes and go in between his ribs on his right. For most mortal men, this would have been a painful experience full of screaming and blood. Being undead had its perks, however, and the man felt nothing but the mild annoyance of his clothes being torn as there was no flesh to cut through. He turned his head towards his would-be assailant and much to his shock discovered it was a small child, a girl, dressed in dirty, tattered rags with eyes full of fear, trembling at the sight of the animated skeleton before them.

He pulled the blade out from what was left of his body and handed it back to the child. “I believe this is yours.” He was shocked by the sound of his own voice and how it sounded so aged, so tired. He never fully realized how the weight of ages had affected him. The child took the knife back.

“Sorry,” the child said while the knife trembled in her hands.

"My name is Magnus. Do you have a name?" He decided to go slow, he was sure it wasn't every day she met skeletons that could talk.

“It’s Merlene.” She replied.

"I know, I'm scary. I wake up every day and scare myself when I look into the mirror,” he said making the best look of shock a skull can do. Laughter ensued from the two. It had been so long since Magnus laughed about anything, there was a feeling of warmth in his core that filled him.

“But why are you here? And where are your parents?” He asked.

“They told me to run away and keep running to a village where the sun sets and find the innkeeper there. But I came here because I heard about the stories of the brave knights and wizards here that could stop any evil,” she said.

“So, you came here for help? Well, I'm sorry, but this city has been gone for a long time now. No one should have even been able to get through the barrier, although I guess there are exceptions to that,” he said as he gestured towards Merlene. “How did you get in here anyway?”

“Oh, there was a hole in the wall at the edge of town, I just squeezed myself through that,” she said as she pointed towards the direction of the walls.

As absurd as it sounded, it made sense. The way the barrier was set up was that it would supplement the walls that were already built beforehand so that the mages didn't have to exert anymore of their power than they had to. The barrier was supposed to be taken down once the plague was cured, but a cure didn’t come fast enough, and the city withered and died as a result. With Magnus as the only mage left, he wasn’t powerful enough to take it down himself. And he never had the strength to tear down a wall on his own, or least that’s what he told himself.

"But you can help, right? You were a knight or a wizard, right?" Merlene asked, filled with hope.

“I… don’t think I can go out there,” Magnus said. “If your initial reaction is any indication, I fear I would not last too long among the people out there, they would see a monster and destroy me.”

“Huh, well we could get you a mask, or a helmet!” She said. “Then they can’t see your face.” Merlene darted out of the alleyway and towards where the old blacksmith was. Magnus barely had time to leave the alley before a helmet was unceremoniously thrust into his arms.  

“See, Magnus, now no one is going to know!”

“I’m supposed to wear a helmet at all times?”

“We can worry about that when it comes up, c’mon!” Merlene grabs his hand and begins pulling him towards the exit.

Magnus had to stop the child. “Just give me one moment, there’s something I need to do first before I leave,” he said as he removed his hand from Merlene’s grip and walked further into the town and towards the castle. Some supplies needed to be gathered on this trip and Magnus was not one to go on journeys unprepared. An old map of the world from what used to be the cartographer's house, a leather water pouch, and a sack to hold these items in. The only perk about living in this empty city was that he didn't need to ask permission to take anything. In his own house, Magnus took a single sword still sheathed in a fine leather sheath. With those items gathered, Magnus took what could be thought of as a deep breath and headed towards the cemetery on the hill.

Magnus kneeled in front of two gravestones and softly spoke to them. “I just wanted to say that I’m taking a trip. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone for, but I promise I’ll return to you two. One way or another.” He picked up a sheathed sword and unsheathed it, shining the muted light of this stagnant city. “Jeralt, this was going to be yours someday, when you were older, but it seems I may need use of it before the journey is through. I hope you can forgive me, son.” He got up, sheathed his sword and walked. Taking one look back before he carried on.

The wall indeed had a crack in it and time had seen to it that it would be wide enough that a body could squeeze through it with enough effort. The first thing Magnus noticed was how bright everything was, without the filter of the barrier the sun shined through brighter than he thought was possible. The wind flowed and the trees, the trees were green and flowing with life. The feeling and sounds of life surrounded the two and Magnus had to stop for a moment to soak it all in.

“Are you okay?” Merlene asked with a look of concern as Magnus stood silent.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm just getting my bearings. It's just been so long since I've left the city." Magnus looked around. "There used to be a path nearby, but it looks like it's been overgrown." He pulled out a dusty map, yellowed with age. “The only village in this area where the sun sets is here," he says pointing at a small village by the ocean. “Is this the place your parents were talking about?”

"Yep, that's it. Wow, that's an old map, Magnus. You think it’s still up to date?”

"Up to date enough to suit our needs, let's get going before darkness falls," Magnus said as he walked off west towards their destination. Merlene trailing behind.

Traveling the countryside brought an invisible smile to Magnus’ face. He remembered the times he walked about with his wife outside of the city. Katya loved nature and the walks gave the precious time he needed away from the hustle and bustle of the castle, the nobles’ constant mandates and the general noisiness of life itself. It was amazing to Magnus that these were the little things that he missed, the sounds and sights of a world that was alive were beauty compared to the cold stagnant world that he was lost to for so long. As the duo passed a lake Magnus remarks "I remember this place, it's where I proposed to my wife. The water was so clear that day. Oh, how I missed all of this.”

The sun began to get low so the two decided to make camp for the night. Around the warm flickering fire, Magnus watched through his helmet as Merlene ate a loaf of bread. Merlene must have noticed because she asked, “Did you want some?”

"Oh no thank you, I don't have the stomach for it," Magnus replied laughing to himself slightly.

“Oh, because of the whole skeleton thing, right?” Merlene said stuffing her face.

“Yes,” Magnus said, peeved that his joke fell flat on its face.

The duo enjoyed a comfortable silence through the night. Only the chirps of crickets, the occasional hoots of an owl and the crackling of the wood in the campfire filled the sound in the air.

“Hey, can I ask you a question,” Merlene asked breaking the silence. “How come you’re a skeleton, what happened?”

"That's because… I got sick one day. A plague came around and a lot of people got sick back then, in fact, the whole city caught it eventually. My colleagues and I tried to find a way to cure it, but then we all got sick too. I knew it was a matter of time before the plague took me and our only chance of curing it, so I turned to my knowledge of the magical arts to keep myself alive. As you can see now,” Magnus said as he gestured towards himself, “that solution is not without its costs.”

“But if you were in a group, what happened to them why couldn’t you use your. “Merlene was cut short by the sound of a stick snapping in the darkness surrounding them. “Did you hear that?”

Magnus was already on his feet and kicking dust into the fire to put it out. Maybe it was a predator, or perhaps it was this ‘evil’ that Merlene spoke of back in the city. Either way, his sword was out and ready. “Stay here child, I’ll be right back,” he said as he walked away from the makeshift camp and toward the noise in the distance.

It wasn’t long until Magnus could make out the light of a torch and two voices in the dark of the woods.

“You sure the girl ran off this way?”

“Of course, I’m sure you fool, where else could she have gone?”

“What about that weird walled city over yonder?”

“You’re kidding, that place is cursed. No one can get in there, you’d have to be insane to try. Now quit your whining and find her so we can get paid.”

It wasn't long until the two ragged-looking men had caught notice of Magnus in his helmet with his sword out.

"And who might you be, eh? Little late to go out for a walk isn't it?" The man said, the wrinkles in his face betraying an older, possibly more experienced man. His hand was on the hilt of his sword around his waist.

“Why are you two searching for a girl in this neck of the woods?” Magnus replied under his helmet.

“That ain’t none of your business lad, just move along before you get hurt,” the younger fellow said while visibly shaken, either by excitement or fear. Sword already in hand.

“Well I plan to make it my business,” Magnus said as he readied his sword with both his bony hands.

The younger one rushed forward with great haste and Magnus met the lad's fury with his steel. The sound of metal clashing against each other reverberated throughout the forest. Magnus went in for a strike, but the young one dodged swiftly and left Magnus open for a strike as a sword plunged into his chest and ran through the other side. Magnus was cursing to himself that he’d let himself become lax in his sword training.

At first, the man’s face had a sense of satisfaction at such an impact, but that look slowly twisted into one of horror as Magnus remained standing, unfazed at the situation. The young man didn't even notice that he let of go his sword, leaving it embedded in Magnus' torso.

“You’ve ruined my clothes,” Magnus said while pulling the sword out dropping it to the ground below, feeling more disappointed over the loss of his shirt than feeling anything about the attack on his life. The young man was already fleeing at that point, but there was still the older man to contend with who had brandished a very ornate looking dagger.

“I know how to deal with freaks like you,” the older man said as he plunged the dagger towards Magnus, who managed to dodge out the way, but not quickly enough to avoid the blade nicking his arm. At that moment, a sensation Magnus thought he had lost had come rushing back to him so suddenly and surely that made him tumble to the ground. What is this feeling? Pain! How? Magnus hadn’t even realized he’d been screaming while his foe casually walked over ready to give the killing blow.

“Back to the hells for you, freak,” the man said before he plummeted the dagger towards Magnus.

A scream was let out as Merlene's knife sank between the ribs of the man. At that moment Magnus concentrated his will into his fist and launched his hand in the man’s general direction and with it enough force to send him flying into a nearby tree. Knocking him unconscious and perhaps breaking some bones in the process.

Magnus stumbled to his feet. “I thought I told you to stay at the camp.”

“Pretty sure you would be dead right now if I did stay. You’re welcome,” Merlene retorted.

“I would have been fine, “Magnus said while pulling a sword out of his chest. “I appreciate the effort, however.” The sword clanged on a small rock as it fell.

“Why were they after you?” Magnus was still reeling from the attack, feeling woozy What did he hit me with? He walked over to the dagger that was now on the ground. Examining it, the blade looked to be of bright silver and the golden handle had the crest of a red dragon on it.  The silver blade had to mean that there was an enchantment placed on it as only the metal silver could hold magical properties that were given by enchanters. Only magic could disrupt the magical forces that kept Magnus alive. “Why did he have an enchanted blade? With the way he dressed he couldn’t have had the money to afford daggers such as this one. And what is this symbol here with the dragon?” Magnus said showing the blade to Merlene.

Merlene looked at the blade for a moment and with a flash of inspiration in her eyes she shouted, “Oh that’s the crest of my family, the Dragonscales.”

Magnus never heard of the Dragonscales in his years of studies, but he figured that due to his time in isolation from the rest of the world new, powerful families have arisen in the absence of the old kingdom and have filled the vacuum of power that was left behind. “You have a crest? That’s pressed onto weapons?”

“Yeah, doesn’t your family have one?”

“No! Only royal families have crests like this. What did your father do for a living?”

“Oh, he was the king.”

“No wonder why you’re being chased,” Magnus said laughing a bit to himself. “You’re a princess. Everyone in the land is out looking for you. You’re worth a lot of money and favor to everyone. I wish you had told me sooner.”

"Well, you never asked," Merlene replied plainly.

"No, no I guess I never did, "Magnus said, "but we should start getting a move on to that town. Nowhere is going to be safe for long with your status." Magnus pocketed the knife in his sack and the two-headed off.

The two traveled for miles on end to the town where the sun had set, there was no time for pause or rest for Magnus, who didn’t need to sleep or eat anyway. When Merlene needed to rest, however, Magnus offered to carry her on his back for at least a little while. They had to stick to the lesser-known paths and off the main trail to avoid anyone who may have known the identity of the princess.

In what felt like no time at all for Magnus, but an eternity for Merlene, they finally arrived at a town called Sunset.

"This has to be the place; the name is too on the nose not to be," Magnus said looking at the wooden sign in front of him along with the map in his hand; matching the landmarks to the old map with the ones he could see around town. A waterwheel, the oddly shaped rock. The entire ocean that was by the coast was a large indicator as well. “What were you supposed to do once you got here, Merlene?”

Before Merlene could get a word out of her mouth. A crowd had gathered around the two. Someone started speaking "You're the princess, yes, and this is your bodyguard? We can help you, just follow us.” The two weren’t given much of a choice as the crowd directed their movements toward an old lighthouse near the outskirts of town.

The two were placed in a room within the lighthouse. In one of the chairs sat an elderly woman with greyish-red hair. “I’m Rose, and you must be Merlene,” she said looking at her, paying no attention to Magnus, “Come have a seat, there is much to discuss.”  

The two took a seat as instructed and listened to Rose. “It is a very unfortunate thing that has happened to your family, Merlene with how your uncle rose to power and has taken your father’s place as king. Of course, you still have your supporters as you are the rightful heir to the throne but currently, we feel that the time for you to reclaim your rightful place is not right.”

“What are you saying then?” Merlene finally spoke.

“Well, the council feels that it would be better for everyone that you sit and bide your time and hide away from the mainland until you're ready to rule," Rose replied.

“I don’t get it, I thought you people would help me save Mom and Dad," Merlene said as tears welled up in her eyes. She tried her best not to let her face betray her emotions but in the end, her face contorted, and the tears fell from her eyes.

“I thought we were here to help liberate this child's land from tyranny and corruption," Magnus said. "Why are we running away to gods know where to ‘bide our time'? There are contingencies for these kinds of situations, a reserve army, a cabal of secret guardians. What it sounds like is that you want to send her away where she won't be in the way."  

“Now that’s not what’s happening at all… who are you again?” Rose said.

“I am Magnus of the Old Kingdom and I am not letting you send her away so that you may grow fat from her situation.” There was a fire in his voice, one that he hasn’t felt in many lifetimes. “Merlene get up, we’re leaving. We’ll reclaim your throne in our own way.”

"We can't let you just leave you know. There's too much at stake to lose because you don't want to fall in line with the new order.” As Rose said this a group of armed men came barreling into the room. Swords drawn and ready for action.

But Magnus was ready too. "Merlene, close your eyes." Ready or not, Magnus released a flash of light from his hands it was as if the sun had been birthed in that very room. Magnus grabbed Merlene and made a bolt for the exit while the guards were blinded by the light.

Outside of town, far away from any other people. Magnus and Merlene sat in a clearing in the nearby forest.

"So, it seems your uncle has overthrown the rule of your family. It's little wonder why they were sending men after you. He wanted to be sure that no loose ends were running around and becoming a potential problem for him later." Magnus said mostly to himself. Merlene sat in shock at the current events.

“I’m not going to let them exile you, Merlene. No one should be put into isolation, away from the people they love.” Magnus said, speaking from his own experience. “We’re going to your kingdom, we’re going to find your parents and we’re going to bring your uncle to justice.”

“But how, Magnus? No one will help us.” Marlene spoke.

"There's nothing to fear. I have a plan, but we need to move we haste and for that, we're going to need to borrow horses.” Magnus said.

Out on the road, there were men on horseback moving at a pace that indicated that they were searching for something. Magnus and Merlene were hidden away in nearby bushes, listening in on their conversation.

“Gotta be careful with her bodyguard, they say he’s got magics.” One voice said.

“Ain’t no such thing as magics. Don’t let ‘em get in your head.” Another voice replied.

Magnus clinched his skeletal fist and walked out into plain view in front of the men. The two saw him immediately and called out to him. “Hey! Where’s the girl? Make this easy for us and maybe you’ll get to keep your life, eh?”

Magnus remained silent. Unmoving from the center of the road. The men got off their horses, swords in hand already and moved in on Magnus.

“Let’s see you keep up the silent treatment after this then.” The man slashed with his sword at Magnus but met with only air. The figure of Magnus soon disappeared into thin air as well. Before the two realized in a horse ran between them and into the surrounding forest. By the time they turned around the other horse, carrying two, was running off into the distance.

"You sure do know a lot of magic, Magnus," Merelene said, wind flowing through her hair, holding tight to Magnus as they rode on horseback.

“Well yes. I studied a lot of magic back in my time and my people were known for having the best mages and sorcerers in the land.” Magnus said, fondly remembering the years he spent pouring over old texts and ancient tomes and seeing the results of his research become manifest through new spells.

“Do you think you could teach me magic after all this is over?” Merelene asked.

Magnus thought over it for a moment. His son was never interested in magic despite how hard he pushed it on him. “Yes, I think I could teach you a few things. Help you avoid burning your eyebrows off and learning practical spells.” Magnus said, remembering the time he lost all his hair in a magical mishap.

The trip to The Dragonscale Kingdom was long but shortened due to the use of horses. Magnus wondered why he didn’t use them at the start. Magnus pulled back on the reins and brought the horse to a stop. They were still a good distance away from the entrance gates.

"You know, in my day this place was just a small village and a bit of farmland," Magnus said looking surveying over the land in his helmet.

“Yeah, my great grandfather fought a dragon, defeated it and sold the scales to make enough money to build a castle and name himself king," Marlene answered.

“Most people can’t just name themselves king, but who would argue with a man that fought a dragon and lived?” Magnus said. “Well enough stalling, time to get this plan in motion.”

“What is this plan?” Marelene asked.

"It's almost the same thing we did to get these horses, but on a larger scale," Magnus said, clenching both of his fists. He took what could have been considered a deep breath and outstretched his hands. Suddenly, numerous knights clad in shining armor on top of golden steads began to appear out of thin air and began to march down toward the castle with the sound of rhythmic thumping of hooves on the ground. "Hopefully that will keep them distracted enough for us to slip into the castle from the back," Magnus said giving the horse a light kick and riding off to the back entrance.

As predicted a group of soldiers came to meet the slowly approaching knights. Numerous archers began lining up and reading their arrows waiting to hear the command to fire. Magnus and Merlene were already slipping in through the back when the archers began to ineffectively loose arrows against the illusory knights. Unfazed by the arrows the knights continued onwards.

The city streets were empty, the townsfolk were likely held up in their houses looking to avoid the conflict. “Merelene do you know where the dungeons are? I expect that’s where we’ll find your parents.”

“I think it’s under the castle. I wasn’t allowed down there, so I don’t know that place so well.” Merelene said.

“That’s quite alright,” Magnus said, “I don’t expect a child to play much in the dungeons.”

The castle was nearly as empty as the city streets. High ceilings and banners hung on the castle walls. Most interestingly was the large skeletal dragon hanging high from the ceiling. The lack of life in the castle signified to Magnus that the recent coup has left the castle so short-staffed that they couldn't manage to form some sort of defense against people sneaking in. It was an advantage that Magnus didn’t mind exploiting. The two made their way down the stairs and found row upon row of prison cells filled with people.

"I know these guys, these are the castle workers," Merlene said.

“Looks like those who didn’t join in the rebellion were locked up here.” Said Magnus.

Requests and pleading for freedom began to fill the hallways. Magnus, with a simple use of magic, broke the locks on the cells. Soon the hallway was crowded with the bodies of prisoners; dirty and disheveled from their imprisonment. “Arm yourselves however you can.” Magnus said over the crowd. “the rebels shall be upon us soon I feel.” Many of the people began rushing up the stairs out of the dungeons.

Magnus stopped one of the former prisoners, “Have you seen the king and queen?” He asked.

“I heard that they were locked in the highest tower in the castle, sir.” The prisoner replied before running off with the rest.

A commotion could be heard upstairs, the clanging of metal against metal mingling with screaming and yells. The sound of combat was afoot as the rebel army had begun to pour back into the castle. Magnus turned to Merlene, “I need to get to the top of the castle to free your parents, but it sounds like the fighting has started outside, so I need you to stick close to me, ok?”

“Yeah, I got it, don't worry," Merlene said.

Magnus handed her the ornate blade he picked up from the brigand. “Just in case.” He said. Moving forward with sword in hand.

Stepping out of the dungeon the world was chaos, combatants swinging swords, clubs and improvised weapons. Some of the prisoners must have been soldiers as they were holding their own very well against the better-armored rebels. Magnus and Marlene weaved though the storm of blades toward the upper stairs only to be stopped by a large man in ornate armor covered in shining silver scales, carrying an oversized and cruel-looking morning star.

"That's my uncle," Merlene said, close behind Magnus.

"Yeah, that figures," Magnus responded.

“You don’t look like one of the rabble I had locked away, who are you?” The false king asked.

“I am Magnus, friend to the true king. And you are?” Magnus responded.

"You come to my castle asking who I am? Do you even know what you're doing here? I am Erik Dragonscale, king of this land that you have stumbled on." Erik's grip on his weapon grew tighter.

“I know exactly why I am here. To free this land of your grip.” Magnus said his free hand gripping into a fist.

“The commoners don’t even care about who’s in charge. Enough talk out of you.” Erik swung his spiked club down towards Magnus who quickly threw up an invisible barrier with his free hand. The force of the blow, however, was too much for Magnus and his skeletal arm shattered into splinters as he flew into a crowd in the center courtyard. There was no pain from the blow, but the attack left Magnus at a considerable disadvantage. At some point, the blow had knocked off Magnus’ helmet revealing his skull for all to see.

“Ah, I see you're not only a rabble-rouser but an abomination as well. How many souls have you stolen to achieve this pitiful form?" Erik said gesturing towards Magnus who was struggling to stand up with only one arm. Magnus had to rest upon his sword has he climbed to his knees. On is ascent he caught a glimpse of the dragon bones hanging above him.

By this point, the fighting had stopped. All eyes were on the king and the animated skeleton in the room. Merlene tried to run over to Magnus, but somehow gave her a look that told her to stay back. She used this opportunity instead to run up the flight upstairs leading to the towers above.

“I have not stolen a single soul, each one was given to me by my friends and comrades for a greater good. Each of those souls still live on through me.” Magnus said, mostly to himself as he focused his will into his remaining hand.

"Enough of your blabbering," Erik shouted. "No good can come from dabbling in those magics." He started pacing towards Magnus.

"Well, let me show you what good can come from it then," Magnus said and raised his arm into the air. A bellowing, glass shattering, roar could be heard from above that stopped Erik in his tracks. Looking up he saw the dragon, once a trophy, now animated and rushing toward him with incredible speed. Erik swung his morning star at the large mass of bones in front of him, but it was to no avail as the sheer force and weight of the dragon crushed him and sent dust and debris flying in all directions.

As the dust was still settling, Magnus, who now found himself against a wall, could hear Merlene shouting for him amongst the confusion. The court was covered in dragon bones and ash slowly descended from on high like snow to the ground. In the dust, Magnus could see two tall figures and one smaller figure in front of him. It reminded Magnus of his wife and child who were still waiting for him at his snow-covered home.

“Merlene, is that you? Did you find your parents?” Magnus asked.

"Yeah, Magnus, I did," Merlene said.

“Ah, that’s great. I’m happy for you.” Magnus said, struggling to rise to his feet. One of his legs seemed to have been bent in the wrong direction. “I think, I’m going to need to rest for a bit after this.”

It had been some time since Magnus made his journey and he was now back in his home of the lost city. The barrier was still covering the sky, but with great effort, the hole in the wall was widened so that people could come and go as they pleased. Mostly it was for Merlene to come and go as she pleased as the outside world tended to leave him alone. Merlene came to the snowy town every month for her magic lessons. And right on time as always, Merlene was waiting for him outside of his house.

“You ready for your next lesson?” Magnus asked.

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't," Merlene replied. Hair still growing in from the last lesson.

“Well then let’s get to work.” Said Magnus.

[mtygalvatron]

Fleshmender

Crimson fluid was flowing quickly from the wound and down the table into the growing puddles on the floor. Vera Lupo, a Fleshmender of the Ophidian Order, had to perform quickly. She reached inside of her jacket and pulled out her tools and got to work on the patient.

Vera focused her magic into one of hands, it glowed softly. She placed her palm on the patient, dulling the man's pain. The strain was tolerable for Vera, nothing she hasn't done before. Vera opened up the wound in order to reach the ruptured arteries which rhythmically ejected vital fluids with each heartbeat. Reconnecting the artery was a simple matter she focused the magic on the slashed artery and mended it together. She stitched the wound and left the patient to rest.

It had been 6 years since she got out of Losang City and joined up with the Ophidian Order. In her old life she was a ganger hanging out in the streets and fighting for scraps left by those higher up on the social ladder. Fighting and loss were the norm. Then one day she caught herself on the wrong side of a shotgun and was left on the streets as ghoul food.

That was when she was picked up by the Ophidian Order and sewn back together like a ragdoll. After a long rest period at a local clinic Vera decided to stick around; it was a better choice than going back to the gangs, killers and madmen. Over the years she learned the various healing arts taught by the Order and even learned to harness magic in the process. Though she wasn't one to rely on it heavily.

All the combined knowledge, skill and experience of years granted her the title of Fleshmender, although to outsiders it was just a fancy way to call someone a surgeon. The title made her feel powerful, as if she had been a desperately needed positive influence in the world.

Of course there was the fear that in saving these people's lives, there was a chance of allowing possible evil people back into the world to kill and cause more damage. The hope was that the kindness shown to them would spread to others.

The sound of doors being slammed opened sent Vera back to reality. Another patient, burns this time. She prepped herself and got back to work.

[mtygalvatron]

Battle-Thrall

The red sun was high over him. He could barely hear his own ragged breathing over the cheers of the crowd. He shut down the heat axe in his hand, the blood still sizzling off the blade in a hiss. The gate behind him opened and he turned and walked through.

It was like this for Gar every day for years. He was a great warrior in his tribe. He was a great husband to his wife. He was a great father to his daughter.

Now he is Gore Thunderblade; a great slave-fighter in The Arena. A tool for the hedonistic predations of greedy eyed men. His life a commodity, only used to fuel the profit and power of the slavers.

Gar pondered on his current existence as the medicine woman tended to his wounds. His body was a book of old scars, each mark told a story of his life and death fights: the machine man with the auto-bow, the fire mage, the walking corpse with the long claws. He was amazed he was still alive, the will of the gods was great and it was terrible.

The next day came, and Gar's turn was up. The fight attendants gave him his armor, some metal thing that was more for show than protection. Most weapons here would tear through it with ease. His weapon however was not as worthless, a heat axe he used since his free days in the Great Desert. It's blade could run hotter than anything on the planet and eat through metal, flesh and bone with great ease. They didn't let him carry the weapon in the common rooms, but they were always sure to have it ready for him.

On the red, dusty killing grounds again. Gar looked at the field around him, today many walls of various heights were set up. His instincts told him that ranged weapons were the order of the day. They always added walls when projectiles were in play.

At the other end of the field the gate opened. The announcer yelled the combatants introduction, but Gar didn't hear nor did he cared to listen. He was was focused on the dark abyss that contained his challenge.

The ground rumbled rhythmically and a metallic whirring was heard. It grew louder and the shaking more intense as time passed. Finally it emerged from the depths of darkness, like a creature of myth. A giant cyclops of Iron, it's large man sized eye made of glass. One arm was a series of barrels, likely a gun of some kind. The other arm was a fist that would likely crush him instantly.

Gar tighten the grip on his axe, the heat causing the blade to glow orange. A warmth flowed over his arm. The iron behemoth's gun-barrels began to spin. Gar dashed to the left behind one of the numerous walls and suddenly thunder came pouring from the giant, chunks of wall exploded like shrapnel. The giant kept firing at Gar's cover reducing the reinforced stone to powder, the dust cloud was enormous to the point that the killing field was shrouded in dust.

Gar was long gone from the destroyed wall that now littered the ground. The dust was covering Gar's movements towards the towering mech. He kept his axe low to hide the glow and used the glow of the giant's barrels to guide his way toward his target. The dust was already settling when Gar made his attack, catching the giant off guard. He swung hard and fast through the gun of the giant. The inferior gun metal melting instantly as the heat axe made contact. Leaving an orange glow at where the arm was cut. The crowd roared at the mechanical mutilation.

The machine made its rebuttal in the form of a punch into Gar's side, sending him flying into a nearby wall. He slammed with enough force to make the wall crack and slid into the dirt below. He kept his grip on his axe strong, as if it was a part of him. Gar looked up just in time to see his foe leap into the air and drive his fist down, attempting to end the fight in one cataclysmic punch.

Gar, still feeling the last blow in his body, pushed through the pain and rolled to the side. The iron giant's fist made a small crater where Gar used to be. Gar made another slash, nearly removing the offending arm. It was dangling uselessly as sparks exploded from the wound. Gar pressed his new advantage, hacking and chopping away at the dying giant. Showers of metal and wires flew through the air.

Finally the violence stopped. Gar looked at the wreckage of the machine giant. It's glass eye shattered, revealing a man inside, body mangled. Whether he or alive or dead Gar didn't care. The arena was engulfed in shouts and cheers. His slave name was chanted. Gar did not care however, the combat high was soon wearing off and exhaustion and pain was settling in.

The red sun was high over him and his breath was hard to catch. He shut down the heat axe, blood and oil vaporizing on the blade. The gate opened behind him and he walked through.

He was Gar Peacebridge, battle-thrall of The Arena.

[mtygalvatron]

The sun was setting low, but the sky kept its red haze from the glow of The Red Comet. Its glow touched every part of the known world and that glow had changed the life that inhabit this world. The ruins of the old cities, once a monument to the triumphs of were now a grim reminder of what was lost. Elizabeta Kumara reflected on this as she, flanked by an armed patrol, made her way through the dilapidated city.

"How much longer do we have?" She broke the silence that hung over their heads since they had escaped The Machine Lord's citadel.

"We only just left Machine City, we have many more days before even leave The Machine Lord's lands." Replied a tall, dark hunter with a large heavy looking gun on her back. Nani, Elizabeta believed the other Hunters called her.

"The sooner the better, I rather not run into any Electric Horsemen..." Another Hunter, Eli remarked, his voice like a bag of rocks. He looked over his duct tapped covered rifle.

"Neither do I..." Eliza shuddered at the thought of being captured by The Machine Lord's men of iron. She was a traitor and the punishment for carrying such a title would make her beg for death.

The third hunter in the front nodded in agreement, a lithe, white furred beastman. His scarred, facial features reminded Elizabeta of the panthers she saw in the archives. "Stay silent, and metal men won't find us." Ghost was his name.

The silence fell over the group again. They knew that they weren't out of danger yet and that unnecessary chatter was only making the situation even more dangerous than it needed to be.

When night finally fell on the dead city, the group made camp in one of the many abandoned buildings. The Hunters could have easily kept going, but Elizabeta was a Science Thrall, not a Hunter. Her mind strong from years of study and research, but her body frail from years of neglect. She walked more today than ever in her entire life and it showed in her ragged breathing. There were stories that the denizens of the Machine City were all augmented with cybernetics, but whatever augments she had were definitely not a benefit to her fitness.

The Hunters took turns keeping an eye out for any dangers in the dark. The night was tense. In the corner of that crumbled, cold ruin. All manner of sounds could be heard in the red hued darkness: the whirring of machines, flesh slapping against pavement and inhuman snarls and growls. None of the Hunters got much sleep that night, paranoia bordering caution saw to that. Elizabeta, however, was exhausted from the trek and nothing could rouse her from sleep. A behavior that was strange and alien to anyone that lived in the savagery outside of the realms of Science Lords and Sorcerer Kings.

The night, while tense, was uneventful. The red filtered rays of the sun broke down upon the savaged city, morning had come. The party ate their rations for the day; bread stuffed with salted meats and vegetables, a Delmo specialty. The journey went on like this for days, hiding, dodging patrols, and sleepless nights on guard duty.

After what felt like eternity they saw it, the border that separated the domain of The Machine Lord from the rest of the world. Thick walls of metal and barbed wire that stretched to infinity amongst the sands. Normally the wall was lightly guarded, a few mobile turrets and drones, but word of Elizabeta's betrayal had reached the wall and now there were armed electric knights tirelessly patroling the wall atop of their heavily armored autosteeds.

Eli frowned. "Damn, I knew this would happen. Can never get a break."

"We all knew this would happen," Nani reassured "this is what we get paid for." She hefted the large cannon into her arms.

Ghost stared at the walls, then the patrols, and then the guards on the walls and back to the walls themselves.

Elizabeta gave up too much to stop now. She stared at one of the mobile turrets on the wall, skittering on top of spider like legs. "Get ready to run for the autosteeds when I give the signal." She simply said and then she suddenly went limp.

Ghost caught her almost immediately.

"What the hell happened to her!?" Eli yelled in a hush.

"She still breathes." Said Ghost.

Suddenly gunfire was echoing from one of the mobile turrets, rounds tearing through the machine men sending wire and shrapnel into the air. The turret quickly turned its attention to the incoming patrol of Electric Horsemen and fired. The horsemen suddenly collapsed and fell from their mounts.

In the span of a few seconds it was over. The turret began to smoke and spark. Elizabeta gasped her eyes popped wide "Let's go before more show."

Two autosteeds were now theirs. Ghost and Elizabeta operated the synth-beasts while Eli and Nani hitched a ride on the back.

They eventually found their way to a gate and with the help of autosteeds' powerful cannon, blew them wide open. Of course such an action woke up the security and like a hive of crystal-wasps. Drones cut through the sky firing at the hijacked motor-beasts and the party.

"Liz can't you just magic them away again!?" Eli yelled over the sound of his and the drone's gunfire.

Elizabeta instinctively winced at the word 'magic'. "I would rather not lose control of the steed and die thank you!"

Nani was firing her autocannon into the swarm of drones and while scrap metal rained to the earth, the sky was still blotted out by the sheer number of drones.

A forest was coming up ahead. Green against the oppressive red desert backdrop. "Perhaps we can shield ourselves amongst the trees!" Ghost said dodging the hail of bullets like raindrops.

They ditched the steeds in the forest, the density of the trees made riding them a risky gambit. The drones backed off as well for the same reason. Safety, for now.

Guns were checked, ammo reloaded. They continued on their way toward less oppressive civilization.

Days of traveling finally brought them to the small coastal town of Delmo. From a map Elizabeta obtained from a black market trader she figured it was the perfect place for her. A small, somewhat quiet place were hopefully the Machine Lord would forget her.

Goodbyes were said and payment was made. A lockbox with the agreed on coinage. And with that the hunters went their way. On to the next job.

[mtygalvatron]

Source for more facts follow NowYouKno

A road has no special qualifiers. It connects point a to point b.

A street connects buildings together, usually in a city, usually east to west, opposite of avenue.

An avenue runs north south. Avenues and streets may be used interchangeably for directions, usually has median

A boulevard is a street with trees down the middle or on both sides

A lane is a narrow street usually lacking a median.

A drive is a private, winding road

A way is a small out of the way road

a court usually ends in a cul de sac or similar little loop

a plaza or square is usually a wide open space, but in modern definitons, one of the above probably fits better for a plaza as a road.

a terrace is a raised flat area around a building. When used for a road it probably better fits one of the above.

uk, a close is similar to a court, a short road serving a few houses, may have cul de sac

run is usually located near a stream or other small body of water

place is similar to a court, or close, usually a short skinny dead end road, with or without cul de sac, sometimes p shaped

bay is a small road where both ends link to the same connecting road

crescent is a windy s like shape, or just a crescent shape, for the record, above definition of bay was also given to me for crescent

a trail is usually in or near a wooded area

mews is an old british way of saying row of stables, more modernly seperate houses surrounding a courtyard

a highway is a major public road, usually connecting multiple cities

a motorway is similar to a highway, with the term more common in New Zealand, the UK, and Austrailia, no stopping, no pedestrian or animal traffic allowed

an interstate is a highway system connecting usually connecting multiple states, although some exist with no connections

a turnpike is part of a highway, and usully has a toll, often located close to a city or commercial are

a freeway is part of a highway with 2 or more lanes on each side, no tolls, sometimes termedexpressway, no intersections or cross streets.

a parkway is a major public road, usually decorated, sometimes part of a highway, has traffic lights.

a causeway combines roads and bridges, usually to cross a body of water

circuit and speedway are used interchangeably, usually refers to a racing course, practically probably something above.

as the name implies, garden is usually a well decorated small road, but probably better fits an above

a view is usually on a raised area of land, a hill or something similar.

byway is a minor road, usually a bit out of the way and not following main roads.

a cove is a narrow road, can be sheltered, usually near a larger body of water or mountains

a row is a street with a continuous line of close together houses on one or both sides, usually serving a specific function like a frat

a beltway is a highway surrounding an urban area

quay is a concrete platform running along water

crossing is where two roads meet

alley a narrow path or road between buildings, sometimes connects streets, not always driveable

point usually dead ends at a hill

pike usually a toll road

esplanade long open, level area, usually a walking path near the ocean

square open area where multiple streets meet, guess how its usually shaped.

landing usually near a dock or port, historically where boats drop goods.

walk historically a walking path or sidewalk, probably became a road later in its history

grove thickly sheltered by trees

copse a small grove

driveway almost always private, short, leading to a single residence or a few related ones

laneway uncommon, usually down a country road, itself a public road leading to multiple private driveways.

trace beaten path

circle usually circles around an area, but sometimes is like a “square”, an open place intersected by multiple roads.

channel usually near a water channel, the water itself connecting two larger bodies of water,

grange historically would have been a farmhouse or collection of houses on a farm, the road probably runs through what used to be a farm

park originally meaning an enclosed space, came to refer to an enclosed area of nature in a city, usually a well decorated road.

mill probably near an old flour mill or other mill.

spur similar to a byway, a smaller road branching off from a major road.

bypass passes around a populated area to divert traffic

roundabout or traffic circle circle around a traffic island with multiple connecting routes, a roundabout is usually smaller, with less room for crossing and passing, and safer

wynd a narrow lane between houses, similar to an alley, more common in UK

drive shortened form of driveway, not a driveway itself, usually in a neighborhood, connects several houses

parade wider than average road historically used as a parade ground.

terrace more common in uk, a row of houses.

chase on land historically used as private hunting grounds.

branch divides a road or area into multiple subdivisions.

[mtygalvatron]

The Wizard

The old man sat in his aged, creaky rocking chair. In his massive stone tower that overlooked his vast verdant forest that he planted countless years ago, the old man saw the first rays of the sun beam down over the mountains and onto the tree filled lands. He had done this for quite a few years now since his adventuring days ended; in those times he had overthrown mad-kings, defeated vile demons of darkness and journeyed to lands once thought lost to time. It was those adventuring days that brought him such immense wealth and power that allowed him to build his massive tower and plant the forest that ensured his privacy, peace and protection from the outside world.

           The old man had seen it all and now he spent his days researching magical theory and new alchemical formulas. It was a lot of busy work but it kept him occupied and his mind sharp. He would even discover new or improved spells and potions on occasion which was always nice. He always made time to watch the sunrise and sunset however; he found a bittersweet, nostalgic beauty in them that brought forth memories of love once found and love lost.  

           The old man let out a sigh as he got up from his rocking chair, he could hear his bones creaking. When he got out of the chair he saw it, a lone hooded figure riding atop a pale horse. The old man knew what it was, he had read stories and accounts on such a force that fit its description in the past. He grabbed his staff and wizarding hat for he knew the time was at hand. The Wizard looked down on the figure in the distance and raised his gnarled staff to the air; azure energies flowed through his instrument and was released towards the figure. On impact with the rider an explosion lit the area and a shockwave was created that rustled the nearby trees for miles to come, some even falling over.

           However the cloaked figure emerged from the dust and smoke left behind by the blast, completely undeterred by The Wizard's attack. It was the first time in a long, long time that The Wizard felt threatened and a fear sparked in him, a fear that turned into a rage that came in the form of more cerulean comets that crashed into the incoming invader, but nothing slowed the rider down and eventually made its way to and through the front gate with no effort.

           The hooded figure made no time at all in getting to the top of the tower where The Wizard was who was currently gasping for air, winding from slinging so many powerful spells. The Wizard makes an attempt to conjure up one more spell, but his strength begins to fail him and his knees buckle, driving him to the floor. The hooded figure stared, the hood revealed nothing to The Wizard, only an endless black void where the face should have been; a void that signified the end.

           The Wizard attempted to plead with the figure. He offered wealth, but the figured remained silent. He then offered ancient arcane secrets, but the offer fell upon deaf ears, the figure continued to stare on. The Wizard then told him that he was still needed, that his continued existence would benefit the people, still the figure remained silent and soon after he was out of pleas The Wizard fell silent as well.

           The Wizard sat there for a time, he had try everything to stop this moment from coming and yet all his plans had failed. He heard the stories, but he thought that what they were; just stories. Now the story was made manifest in his own room and nothing could save him. The Wizard thought back to his life and his accomplishments; the near-death experiences, the battles he fought, the people he fought side by side with, the sunrise, his Sunrise. How he wished he could see her again, but somethings were not meant to be, he accepted her passing long ago and now he had to accept his; if he was going to go out he would at least do so with dignity. The Wizard rose to his feet and he looked at the figure and told it he was ready.

           The figure stood there for a moment and suddenly removed its hood. The Wizard was shocked to see his Sunrise staring back at him. She invited The Wizard to watch the sunset on the tower balcony; he grabbed her hand and they both watched the sunset together. The Wizard felt a warmth around himself, it was nostalgic and bittersweet.

[mtygalvatron]

King of the Dead City

You come to me asking of a tale of bravery and knighthood? Very well I shall give thee such a tale, a tale that may or may not be true as this has been passed down by tongue for over 100 generations and all first hand accounts are surely deceased by this point!

Our tale begins with the birth of our noble hero Haardrok Stumbleson, and his younger brother Daavross Stumbleson. Sons and soon to be heirs of King Stumble who was known across the world for defeating the vile Necromancer Stavros the Undying and uniting the three old kingdoms of even more ancient legend. In their childhoods Haardrok and Daavross were both trained the in ways in mannerisms of kingship, unfortunately Haardrok did not take to the learning of diplomacy, preferring the power of steel rather than the word, while his younger brother could talk anyone into even the most insane of request.

When the Old King Stumble passed on into the next world, he foolishly divided his kingdom between his two sons. Haardrok would be given the land West of the Great River while his brother Daavross was given the Eastern lands, which was formerly the land of Stavros the Undying. For a time there was peace, until one day Haardrok received news that Daavross has gone missing in a recent expedition eastern swamps. Haardok immediately set out of his kingdom to find his brother completely on his own leaving his kingdom to his group of most trusted knights until his return.

At the foul swamp Haardrok had to deal with many ordeals, poisonous reptiles slithered and scampered through the muck, many insects clinged to his body hoping to receive some of royal blood. This would not deter him from his quest, he would be the hero and find his little brother. Eventually he came across a castle half sunken in the swamp, he would of walked by it if not for a flag that bared the crest of his brother's kingdom. As he walked closer to the rotted wooden doors that was the entrance, an arrow came flying past him, looking up Haardrok could see what appeared to be a skeleton creature on the walls of the castle with a bow and arrow readying himself for another shot at him. Haardrok had no ranged weapons on him, believing that such weapons were the tools of cowards. He saw that the walls of the castle looked climbable, so he rushed for the wall dodging many of the arrows while some found themselves embedded into his muck and slime covered armor. He ignored any pain and jumped onto the wall, climbing with such great speed that many of the nearby spiders grew jealous.

He leaped up onto the top of the wall, pulled out his shining broadsword and threw all his force into one downward swing, shattering the skull, spine and pelvis of the skeleton in many many pieces. More skeletons began to rise up and run towards him. One behind him did some sort of tumble up towards him and thrusted his rapier at him, Haardrok barely had enough time to parry with his sword directed the deadly pointed tip downward and lodging the rapier into the ground. While the skeleton was struggling to dislodge his weapon, Haardrok used his mighty foot and kicked the skeleton's head clear off, sending it flying into the brown water below. Another skeleton, wielding an axe saw this as an opportunity to attack and made a swing at Haardrok's face, Haardrok did the only thing he could think of and bit down with all this might on that axe before it hit somehow, possibly by divinity catching it in his mouth. Somehow the skeleton managed to have a look of surprise on his face and promptly ran away from Haardrok out of fear leaving the axe where it was. Haardrok removed the axe from his mouth and threw it back at the skeleton, which ended up getting lodged in its back ribs as it fled. With those two dealt with, our hero descended the nearby stairs into the castle.

Inside there was a faint blue light being casted from the blue flames that were floating in the air. Haardrok looked to be in a throne room as at the end of this long hall was a large throne with a partially decayed corpse wearing the clothes of a king sitting in it with a sword stuck in its chest. It's eyes glowed with a faint yellow like a dying flame. Weakly it turned his head towards Haardrok and said with a raspy voice "Spawn of Stumble, thou art a fool to be easily tricked by your serpent of a brother! Your kingdom is surely in ruins by now!" Haardrok was going to ask how he knew who he was, but was cut short by the corpse. "FOOL! I AM STAVROS THE UNDYING! NOT A DAY GOES BY IN WHICH I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON IN THIS WORLD!" his voice was powerful enough to move the dust from the floor and shake the very castle. Stavros continued "Your brother was here a few months ago stealing my notes and journals and learning the secrets of life and death. You should of seen what he did to his own knights! The madman!" Haardrok didn't want to hear any more of the necromancers words and turned his back on him and walked off. Stavros made one more shout at him "THOU CANST DEFEAT HIM! HE HAST BECOME GREATER THAN EVEN HIS FATHER!"

Surely enough the necromancer's words rang true. When Haardrok's returned to his kingdom, the entire city had became a necropolis. Corpses of citizens roamed the streets under the green putrid sun. One of the bodies came up to Haardrok and said slowly, "Where the hell have you been!? We needed you!" while grabbing onto his arm. Haardrok pulled his arm away and ran off to his castle, his newly undead knights blocked his path and with a look of extreme grief attacked their old king. Haardrok didn't have time to fight them and dashed right through them with his sword raised up in front of him as if it were a shield and knocked them back, but not without taking a few scratches and cuts from the knight's swords.

He broke the doors into this throne room and saw his brother Daavross there, smiling at him and preparing to make some sort of speech no doubt. Haardrok didn't have time for his crap and threw his broadsword at him, barely scraping some flesh off of his cheek followed up with Haardrok rushing towards him with his fists and beating his face repeatedly until it was nothing more than a pile of mush with a twitching body underneath, all sorts of dead. Haardrok sat in his throne and let out a sigh of sadness, as he is now the king of the dead city.

[mtygalvatron]

Something I wrote 9 years ago

Gaming has changed....

It is no longer about fun, competition or high scores

It's an endless series of Pre-Order bonuses, pushed by publishers and game stores

Gaming, and its vast consuption of free time,

has become a rational, well-oiled business transaction.

ID tagged gamers play ID tagged games use ID tagged consoles

Gamer fuel inside their bodies

enhance and regulate their senses

Purchase control, Information control

Hype control gameplay control

Everything is monitored, and kept under control

Gaming has changed

The age of enjoyment is now the age of control,

All for the sake averting a repeat of the Great crash of the 80's

And he who controls gaming, controls history.

Gaming has changed.

When the gameplay is under total control,

Gaming becomes routine.

[mtygalvatron]

Delivery

He didn't have a lot of time left; the client wanted his package and he wanted it now. He held down the throttle of his motorcycle and weaved his way through the canyons of cars at breakneck speed. Up ahead he saw an overturned firetruck burning, there was no time to waste he drove his motorcycle off the freeway, a move that would wreck lesser vehicles but he was prepared. The wind flowed around him as he cut through the sky and then as suddenly as it started it ended with a solid thud.

He was still in the right direction but he was also in the wrong part of town. He was a blur beaming through the empty, garbage littered streets but the motor gangs could smell prey before they even saw it. Highbeams flashed behind him like a spotlight on a target. His helmet soon adjusted for the brightness and darkened appropriately. There were 4 motorcycles tailing him, one of them produced a firearm and fired in his direction. He didn't have time for this it was his neck or there's and he was fond of his. He reached for the sawn-off holstered in the side of his ride.

He twisted his body, aimed the gun behind him and squeezed the trigger. The resulting blast was like the force of dynamite poured into a funnel and the bikers on the receiving end took the full force of it. Scattershot tore into the first two riders causing them to skid to the asphalt. One of the remaining riders couldn't react in time to the chaos and his bike slammed into the downed cycle. The rider's body flew into the air, limbs dangling like a ragdoll, into the neon lit sky.

The courier kept driving not bothering to look behind at the damage he caused. He couldn't think about such things, the package needed to be there and it had to be there on time. His focus on the goal would cost him however, a gunshot from behind ripped into his rear tire. He tried to stabilize himself, but it was no use. He found himself crashing into a nearby fire hydrant and soon after his synth-leather jacket was skidding on the pavement until he was stopped by a nearby wall.

It took a moment to get back to his feet, the taste of iron was in his mouth and pain could be felt with every breath. Gunfire and the revving of an engine could be heard in the distance. The ganger was out for blood now. The courier found a hefty iron pipe in the nearby garbage. The light of the ganger's motorcycle was growing larger by the moment. The courier stood his ground, he knew that it would end for one of them on these streets tonight. The light came closer, the pop of gunshots was growing louder. The courier was walking toward the biker, hands gripped around the hard metal object. The engines roar became larger, like the warcry of a monster about to tear into its victim. The courier was in full sprint, pain burning throughout his body.

He directed all his strength, his will to survive into the blunt object and he swung harder than any baseball player alive or dead. He could hear cracking in the helmet of the biker and cracking in one of his arms. A numbness washed over the courier as shards of plexiglass glittered in the dark, the ganger was picked up by the force of the blow and came down with a dull thud. The bike carried on like a headless chicken until it finally crashed into a streetlamp.

The courier hobbled past the ganger's body, a dark liquid was flowing from the broken helmet. Whether he was alive or not didn't matter. All that mattered was the package. He picked up the bike, reved it and drove off.

After a much less eventful drive he made it to his destination. A house in the suburbs with the sound of music echoing. The rhythmic thumping of the bass rattled his teeth and irritated his wounds. He moved toward the house, package slunged around his arm in a carrying bag, he hadn't bothered to take off the scratched, dented helmet. He knocked on the door, minutes later he banged on the door. The door eventually opened, a young man in a jersey and backwards cap was on the other side to greet him. The courier opened his bag and revealed 10 thin boxes, each baring the name 'Tony's Pizza'.

"Ah dude the 'za is finally here!" The man and two others that showed up behind grabbed the pizza boxes.

The courier had his hand out.

The man pointed at his watch.

He was too late, he had failed.

The three dudes high five each other and slammed the door in the couriers face.

He made his way back onto his bike the adrenaline of the night's action was leaving and being replaced by the debt of soreness. As he rode off into the his only thought was: "People would kill for pizza."