#and now his mortal enemies from the last games are seizing a clear path to their 2nd gold

[raininyourblackeyes]

Imagine being Galliamov rn

[sagoliilynx]

The End of the Beginning (3)

((This is a long one so I will put it under the cut. Also a word of warning, while I edited the graphic stuff out, there is still some obvious indication of self harm. Steer clear if you are worried that it might get to you.))

Once it had been an Au Ra, though it was impossible to tell if it had been Raen or Xaela. At least as far as his knowledge of the race from his home world extended. Here they were called something else, but they still sported the same features that he was used to. Not this thing though, gone was natural skin pigmentation and now flesh looked as if it had been carved from white stone, a statue come to life. The thing’s right arm was malformed, larger and longer than it should have been, and ending with a large clawed hand. It was almost as if the man had started to mutate but that change had been halted. And then there was the eyes, pale orbs devoid of emotion, unblinking as if the thing was a machine with no soul. Maybe it was.

“You better use the crystals or you’ll be dead. Either way it is fun for us!”

Lan was unsure who had spoken, but he still took note of what was said as a plan started to form in his mind. He had little time to consider things though as the monster charged him, that huge set of claws swiping so closely that he felt the air stir in passing.The Miqo’te found himself on the defensive for now, diving and dodging the attacks leveled his way by the much larger and stronger foe.

Someone in the cheering/jeering crowd above tossed down a hand axe and wooden shield, far from ideal equipment, but better than nothing. A dive to the side saw Lan scoop the implements up and ready himself for the next attack, one he met head on now as he took the hit with the shield. The wood seemed to be a meager barrier between him and those vicious talons, but it held and it gave him the chance to counter with a downward swing of the axe, blade biting into flesh at the monster’s shoulder. Of course whatever drove the beast now helped it shrug off the blow, viscous green blood oozing from the wound.

What followed was a flurry of activity as they traded blows, Lan working to avoid as many as he could, while the monster seemed to just take each hit and keep coming forward. It was brutal combat the likes of which Lan had not been a part of in a long time, and deep down part of him thrilled in the life and death struggle with the odds against him. But the tactician’s mind told him that he would falter before this thing did, he would need to end it soon. He had the answer, but implementing that answer was easier said than done.

Lan began to give ground, something that once upon a time his instructors would have screamed at him for, something that would have earned him so many damn flutter kicks as punishment. But those days were long gone, and real warfare had taught him that at times you needed to yield just a bit to gain the advantage. “Force them to hunt me, they will play my game, and play by my rules. I will be close but still untouchable.” That old litany slipped found his lips as his shield was battered and he stepped back a few more fulms, a deadly calm settling over him as the thrill of the battle slipped away. Indeed all emotions started to unravel within his mind, that familiar calm of the inner void engulfing feelings and distractions alike. Supreme focus.

The creature’s massive claw reared back and up to strike another blow on the meager wooden barrier that stood between it and the prey before it. But when it swung it’s arm it struck the top of the side of the pit, a bit of an overhang thanks to the uneven nature of the hole. The lethal hand actually striking a few of the crystals that lined the impromptu arena with a force that saw some of the shards impale the big palm. Color began to drain from the claw, pale aether flowing into the stones. Something that was not unnoticed by Lan. Another piece falling into place even as he launched his counter with a deathly calm that rivaled the monster’s. 

Seizing the opening, Lan hooked a leg with the blade of his axe and pulled even as his own powerful legs drove him forward with his shield leading the way. The monster stayed on his feet despite being staggered by the Seeker it faced. But Lan’s plan was fully realized when his feet left the ground and with surprising agility for someone of his build actually climbed the former Au Ra and kicked off and up. Midair he hurled his shield at the monster, a distraction, and a chance to free his hand before it found purchase one of the larger crystals that lined the hole. Feline grace brought him swinging up above the lip of the pit even though his handhold came loose in his hand. Even in that calm he allowed a sliver of pride to briefly seep through as the gathered cultists  gasped in shock. The Miqo’te was on them before some of them even had time to react, a savage dervish of steel and fist that tore through his enemies. 

Shouts rang out as the shock subsided and Children scrambled to arm themselves and take on that man that had somehow managed to bring so much havoc right into their midsts. But ganging up on a single man was not going to be their only worry as a great claw slammed into the lip of the pit and their other prisoner hauled itself up. Too late did they realize that the acrobatic feat they had witnessed had knocked out more than just one crystal. The strange phenomenon that had held the mutated Drahn weakened enough to let the creature free. And now it butchered them as some fled and others attempted to fight.

Of course the other threat they had to contend with, Lan, was still cutting his way through the few that opposed him. Having acquired a sword to pair with his axe, he did look every bit of a monster himself as blood spattered his skin while he ravaged his enemies. There was a plan behind his attacks though, and it was realized as he came face to face with the Elf that had seemed to be the one in charge, the one that had managed to discover him in the brush. The same Elf that grinned wickedly at him as blade of his own came to hand right before they clashed.

Chaos raged around them but somehow the two men fought undisturbed as if it had been a duel agreed upon. Lan found that this particular enemy was a match for his own skill as a blademaster and theirs was the dance of death only one would survive this encounter. Steel met steel as they clashed with such intensity that blades actually chipped and at times their movements would seem a blur to the outside observer. Bit by bit the Elf started to press the Seeker, and his grin grew as there was an evil flash in his red eyes, he was confident that it was almost over….

Sword came down in an arc that would deal a mortal blow to the last chief of the Free Tribe...hand it connected. Red eyes widened in surprise as Lan used the handle of his axe to block the attack, and those eyes widened more as a shortsword tore through flesh, organs, and bone. Lan buried the blade to the hilt in the Elf’s chest with such force that he felt the crack of the ribs transmitted through his weapon. Victory was at hand as he brought the axe up now, ready for it to deal the final blow. But a hand wreathed in sickly green aether struck like a viper, fingers closing over Lan’s left wrist like one half of some hellish manacles. 

And the sensation shook that inner void, a feeling like a fever accompanied that green energy as it engulfed his hand and begun to creep up his arm. The void collapsed, but that did not signal the end for Lan’s fight as he pulled downward and twisting the still embedded sword, the blade tearing a path through the Elf’s body before finally severing the spine. Like a puppet with its strings cut the Elf finally collapsed dead, vile aether vanishing before his body even hit the ground.

And Lan fled, the leader’s death was not going to go unnoticed even in the chaos of the mutating creature’s rampage. He would not be there to see the monster shifting more and more into a true sineater form, but the cultists would get a front row seat for that change, the last thing many would ever see.

He kept his wits enough to alter his path enough to go to where he had hid before his capture and retrieve his leather bag, the contents of that bag more precious than most anything else he owned. His left arm was starting to go numb as he continued his flight, his sense of direction pointing him toward where his hidden cave would be. Something told him that he needed to get there fast.

“Lan…” 

“Lan…” The voice sounded distant and distorted, like someone trying to call out to him across a malms wide sandstorm.

How long had he been running now? His left arm hung limp at his side, the numbness having creeped upward along it. Why was his flesh darker? It was hard to think, hard to do anything other than run. Something was wrong, very wrong…

“Lan..that is corruption magic...it will spread more until you die.” It was a familiar voice but still so distant.

“Hannah? Where have you been?” As always, it would make him look mad if anyone saw him talking to someone that was not there. Only one other person aside from him had seen the mysterious woman that was able to speak to his mind.

“N..o...t..me...weak co..ion. ...must remove...o..or die….” 

It was harder to hear her now, as if their connection was breaking apart. He staggered over a root as his flight continued and he tried to puzzle out what she was saying. But then clear as day an image flashed in his mind: His arm starting to turn a sickly black, bloated and diseased, and that disease starting to spread to the rest of his body. Another image flashed, the axe he still managed to hold…

He staggered once more, finally stopping to slide down against a large tree. Weary eyes looked at his left arm just as veins of black creeped further upward, almost to his elbow now. In the feverish, exhausted haze he now knew what message Hannah had been trying to convey. Whatever that Elf had used on him was going to spread like a blight through his body, infecting him until he died here on this strange world, not the end he had wanted for himself. Sapphire eyes moved from the corrupted limb to sweep over the axe in his right hand...He either trusted those images and possibly lived, or he ignored them and certainly died. No more battles to fight, no more tribal history to uncover, and hardest of all, utterly alone. Would Anstarra and Nihka miss him? There would be no chance to finally speak with Jancis again as promised….No chance to uncover the secrets of the Free Tribe. Death was not to be feared, but perhaps it was not time for that meeting just yet.

The strap of his bag would make an adequate tourniquet, and his vest could be fashioned into a bandage. He would need a fire too...He stared at the axe for a bit more as the change his life was about to undergo firmly took root in his mind. Would he still be a soldier? 

The sound of someone growling in pain through gritted teeth had been loud enough to travel quite a distance even in the thick forest, and it helped the two hunters find the one that they had been dispatched to locate. The two members of the Night’s Blessed followed the signs and the smell of smoke until they happened upon a small clearing with a smoldering fire. But it was the clearing’s sole inhabitant that they focused on. Slumped over against a tree was a tanned Mystel man with the smell of seared flesh still clinging to him, that smell coming from what was left of his arm. Resting by his right hand was an axe, still bloody from the deed that had been done. “By the Night…” The evidence was clear, and what they could see of the now detached limb made it clear that it had been a matter of survival, and a very painful act. It had to have been awkward to try and wield the axe in such a manner.

The Blessed quickly fashioned a litter and gathered both the unconscious man and the odd metallic book next to him up before setting off. The Guide had sent them to find this guy for whatever reason, and they would deliver the poor bastard, if he survived long enough to get there.