Gods & Men: The Ancient Myths: Chapter 1 IC Thread

[Johnny Blaze]

"Excellent", Rothgar sighed under his breath as he peered over the crushed stone wall that once surrounded the mighty City-State.

The sun was slowly creeping up over the horizon and a faint glow began to illuminate the area. Below his position stood the ruins of Athens. Even a month since it's destruction fires still smoldered and a black haze seemed to envelope the entire city.
Below him though were six zombies, all hunched over devouring the carcass of a riding horse, complete with saddle and saddlebags.

Rothgar wasn't the first to brave the perils of Athens, that much was now certain. But he vowed he would not share the same fate that the owner of the beast most likely did.

Don't want to keep them waiting now.

Rothgar stood tall, his darkened silhouette looming over the feasting zombies. The undead paid him no heed though as they continued with their meal in a frenzied fashion.

"Excuse me, kind sirs!"

The zombies all stopped suddenly, turning to face Rothgar.

"Might one of you show me the way to the nearest inn? I have traveled a long road to get here, and my feet could surely use a rest."

With a blood-curdling shriek the undead monstrosities charged their new meal.

Rothgar remained still, not moving a muscle as the host descended upon him. Closer they came, slavering spittle and blood as they charged.
Still Rothgar remained calm.

Finally, as the zombies closed within a dozen yards, Rothgar willed mighty Banahogg to ignite. The sudden appearance of the flames did not cause them any hesitation at all.

Rothgar smirked and laughed heartily as he ducked under the swipe of the first zombie, slicing him clean in two at the waist...

 

[Johnny Blaze]

The purple lichen clinging to the earthen walls of the carved out houses eerily lit the entire cavern in a soft, dark hue.
It was nighttime in the city of Haundrauth, or what constituted as night beneath the Earth's surface in the Underdark. Dubbed the Night Below, the Underdark was the world beneath the world. An alien place for surface travels, filled with foreign wonders and dangers.

And one such danger in the Underdark were the drow, the dark elves, masters of the skyless night. Scattered in cities and strongholds throughout the Norselands as well as parts of Europe, the influence of the dark elves was more widespread than surface dwellers thought. But the drow rarely came to the surface, save to raid settlements and capture slaves. They preferred to stay below in their subterranean world, filled with intrigue, adventure, and murder.
Most drow waited for the day when the Lady Lolth, chief goddess of the drow race, would lead her worshipers to victory over the surface elves and return them to their ancient prominence.

But Cy-Spar saw beyond the false promise from a deceiving goddess. Lolth was perfectly content to keep the drow as they were now: more concerned with self-promotion and stuck in a constant power struggle between each other. Drow Houses often clashed behind the scenes, doing whatever they can to improve their position and power base. All the while keeping them solely in dependence of Lolth for their desired power.
For without the Spider Queen, to be drow would be meaningless.

Cy-Spar spat as the thought crossed his mind. Looking out over the bluff to the city below, Cy-Spar couldn't hide the contempt he felt for Haundrauth, his city and prison.

"Kyirilan anmeyfcala aey, Cy-Spar", asked Abargandar, Cy-Spar's partner on this mission.

It wasn't long ago, only seventy-five years, that he was approached by the Church of Vhaeraun and joined their ranks. The Masked Lord's preachings struck a cord with Cy-Spar as they were thoughts he wholeheartedly agreed with. Males were the equals of females and worth just as much, if not more, to drow society. So Cy-Spar began to take jobs in secret that helped further the influence of the Church of the Masked Lord, while doing his best to keep his double life a secret from his siblings and, especially, his mother.

Matron Chessirae was as ruthless and cruel as she was beautiful, and Cy-Spar did not wish to bring her wrath down upon him. For it would be a fate worse than death.

"Leanirelv fyan anira ylayilc", Cy-Spar replied with a sigh.
"Ean ela il failyaneoyc laeviran omeli yty irama, fyan ean'la failyana ela leanirelv fyan a mask. Covering up the sore-covered body of the true Haundrauth. I tell you, Abargandar, our people will never truly be free to reclaim our birthright while under Lolth's yolk."

"And that is why we are up here tonight", Abargandar replied without hesitation.
"To further the doctrine of Vhaeraun and help bring down the *****-Queen's power base just a bit more."

"And speak of the devil", Cy-Spar stated as he pointed down to a small caravan leaving the city gates below them. It was a small group, no more than five drow warriors, a priestess, and a dozen bugbear slaves all carrying large sacks over their backs.
Slowly the precession made it's way towards the main tunnels that delved deeper into the Underdark.

"Right on time", smiled Abargandar as he rose to his feet, cracking his neck and back.

"Are you ready?"

Cy-Spar unsheathed his scimitar, Ddrin, the blood stealer, the blade glowing faintly red in the gloom.

Without a word, Cy-Spar leaped off of the cliff down towards the unsuspecting caravan below.

The sudden breeze caressed his face and whipped his piwafwi, the cloak of the drow that gives them the uncanny ability to blend in with their shadowy surroundings, about.
Just before he would've slammed into the ground, Cy-Spar enacted his talisman's levitation ability and floated down...right on top of the priestess.

A gurgle is all that escaped her ruby red lips as his blade dug deep into her chest. Ripping the sword from the dying woman, Cy-Spar turned to parry the blade of the nearest drow warrior.

Cy-Spar scoffed as a swipe of Ddrin opened separated the warriors head from his shoulders.
"Truly this cannot be the best Matron Iremlaan has to offer?"

By then, Abargandar had touched down and slain a trio of bugbears, and in less than a minute the entire caravan party was dead...

"So", spoke Cy-Spar as he cleaned his blade on the clothes of the priestess.
"What is so important to the church that we attack a caravan of the first house of Haundrauth just outside city limits?"

"That is not for you to know", stated Abargandar after a moment's pause.
"The Shadow commanded it, and we obey. It shall only raise the power of the Masked Lord in Haundrauth. That is all you need to know."

"So, you don't know either then", asked Cy-Spar, his eyes narrowing to slits as he sheathed his blade.

"...No."

Cy-Spar didn't press the issue any longer, and silently stepped aside as clergy member of the church transported to the scene and began to gather up the mysterious packs...

 

[SenseiofCheese]

It was, if possible, even worse than Gunnar had imagined. It seemed that all the things he had heard, all the things he had been told about the horrid fate of the once great city-state, had done it no justice.

"Odin help us." was all he could manage.

The 10 warriors that stood at Gunnar´s back had seen a great many things. But this.....none of them could put their horror into words. More than one of the hardened fighters shed a tear as they looked out across the wasteland.

"I will say again what I said at the start of our voyage." Gunnar said, trying as best he could to ignore the stench of burnt flesh that filled his nostrils. "No judgment shall be passed on those of you who wish to return home."

----

Gunnar and the three men who had decided to stay with him watched as the ship they had arrived in went back out to sea. "Safe journey, my brothers." he called to the men who had discovered their own limits.

"Come then." he said, turning to the others. "We shall make our way into Athens, and we will find Björn."

 

[Optikal]

It was the smell that hit him first. The clogging scent of burning flesh and blood upon the air. Oleks boots pounded the ground as he ran full tilt up the hill towards the plumes of black smoke rising into the air.

As he crested the hill he almost stumbled and fell. The village was ablaze, it's inhabitants... his people... lay dead, their lifeblood soaking into the dirt. Olek looked around for any sign of who or what could have done this but found none. Hefting his wood-cutters axe to his shoulder he raced down the hill and into the blaze that was his village. Kicking open doors and checking on the dead for signs of life, he found none.

His own home, on the far side of the village was also smouldering. Olek smashed his way through the old wooden door and into the building itself. "Teana?! Sven?! Where are you?!"

Seeing no sign of his wife or his son, Olek raced back out into the village, screaming their names. Moving round the back of his house, Olek let out a roar. Laying in the dirt was his son. His small, frail ten year old body cut through the chest. Olek scooped him up and cradled him, tears running down the hard lines of his face. "Oh Sven, I'm sorry boy. I'm so sorry" he sobbed.

 

[Byrd Man]

Athens

It had taken them almost a week, but the Docktore and Watts had arrived in the ruins of Athens.

"My god..." Was all the man of logic could mutter as their wagon rolled across the bones of once proud Athenians.

An inhuman scream filled the air as a trio of undead zombies announched their prescene.

"Watts, my good man. Cover me." The Docktore muttered as he ducked into the wagon.

"With what?" The chubby assistant yelled back as the zombies approached the wagon faster and faster.

"Sir?!" Watts screamed as The Docktore emerged from the wagon, a pair of goggles around his eyes and his fire-gauntlets on each hand.

"Back, ye beast!" He proclaimed as he sparked the flint on the front of his gauntlet.

FWOOSH!!!

Fire erupted from the gauntlet's small holes and covered the zombies in fire.

"Burn like you would in the fires of hell, you souless husks!"

He smiled as the zombies burned and wilted away.

Off in the distance, the two men hear the sounds of combat. The Docktore removes his left fire-gauntlet and tosses it to his portly assistant.

"Slip that on, old friend. I believe our help is required elsewhere."

 

[Johnny Blaze]

Rothgar silently stalked down a side road (or what was left of it) in the ruins of Athens. He had taken out three separate groups of zombies and a gang of ghouls since arriving in Athens.
And the deeper he delved into the ruins, the more concentrated they were.

Although he was not one to back away from a fight, Rothgar needed to sit and rest for moment. But the problem of finding a safe place to do so in the ruins of Athens seemed an impossible task.

Undead were crawling around what was left of the city. He had avoided twice as many monsters as he had confronted, and he was beginning to think he'd never find a safe place to sit and recuperate.

Finally he came across the scorched shell of an old inn.

"Well now, this looks promising. But looks can be deceiving."

A howl cut through the morning air that turned Rothgar's attention away from the building.
It was nearby. Couldn't have been more than one-hundred meters away.

"I think a closer inspection is warranted", stated Rothgar as he hurried into the building.

The inn was trashed, with tables and chairs splintered and charred. Most of the bottles of alcohol were destroyed, but Rothgar found an unopened bottle of mead sitting on the shelf behind the bar.

"Praise be to Odin", he smiled as he took the bottle in his hand.
"It would seem that the All-Father is looking after me in my fool-hardy quest."

Tearing the cork from the bottle with his teeth, Rothgar took a hefty swig of the brew, getting as much on his shirt as he did down his throat.

"Ahhhh...such a divine taste. I feel rejuvenated already", the Norse warrior chuckled as he moved to sit down on a still-functioning chair.

Putting his blade on top of a nearby table, Rothgar took another swig of mead.
He shut his eyes, and took a deep breath as he tried to get some need rest.

His eyes shot open and he inhaled deeply once more.

Sulfur.

Banahogg ignited in his hand as the massive form of the maralith burst through the back doors of the room. Hellfire erupted out with her, and the entire building was soon burning around them.

"Aren't you the pretty little thing", Rothgar swallowed hard as he faced the demon.

He had little chance against a fiend of this power on his own, and no chance at all in close quarters such as these. Especially with the building burning around him.

"I think it's best we move this dance outside this little inferno, hmm?"

Rothgar turned and ran out the door, and, with a demonic yell, the maralith smashed through the entrance of the inn in hot pursuit...

 

[SenseiofCheese]

"I think it's best we move this dance outside this little inferno, hmm?"

Rothgar turned and ran out the door, and, with a demonic yell, the maralith smashed through the entrance of the inn in hot pursuit...

"Gunnar! Look!" came a yell from Birgir, one of Gunnar´s men.

The four had ventured into the depths of the once-great Athens; taking every precaution to avoid awaking the slumbering horrors of this nightmarish place.

But it seemed as if someone else had.

"Odin help us.." he muttered under his breath. It seemed as a lone wanderer had caught the attention of a blood-starved maralith; something not many people survived.

"He doesn't stand a chance." another one of the vikings exclaimed, watching in stunned amazement as the mysterious warrior fought off the creature as best he could, brandishing a flaming blade.

"He does now." Gunnar growled, his hand grasping the hilt of his sword. The blade sung as Gunnar lifted it high above his head, and let out a mighty roar.

"FOR ODIN!"

 

[Byrd Man]

"Aren't you the pretty little thing", Rothgar swallowed hard as he faced the demon.

He had little chance against a fiend of this power on his own, and no chance at all in close quarters such as these. Especially with the building burning around him.

"I think it's best we move this dance outside this little inferno, hmm?"

Rothgar turned and ran out the door, and, with a demonic yell, the maralith smashed through the entrance of the inn in hot pursuit...

"He does now." Gunnar growled, his hand grasping the hilt of his sword. The blade sung as Gunnar lifted it high above his head, and let out a mighty roar.

"FOR ODIN!"

The Docktore and Watts watched from a nearby hill as the vikings took on the demon in mortal combat.

"Perhaps, Watts...using these fire-gauntlets are not the best idea." He said as he reached into one of his many coat pockets and pulled out a black orb with a small piece of fuse dangling on the end.

Pulling out his flint liteur, the Docktore quickly struck a spark on orbs fuse.

"Best to cover your ears, Watts." He said as he tossed the device into the middle of the battle.

The vikings stared strangely at the thing as the demon caught it and stared at it's tiny fuse.

BOOM!

The explosion knocks the creature back and bloodies its face with shrapnel.

"Take heed, warriors!" The Docktore proclaims as he races down the hill with his bombs in hand.

"The good Docktore will bestow sciense on our side."

 

[trustyside-kick]

Some people would call me a scholar, but I just choose wisely with my words. Others would call me a man of god, a preacher. I have my beliefs, and fear the Almighty for his presence is indeed here, but I do not praise him. Many would go to call me a prophet, believing that my stories fortell possible future events, but I merely re-tell tales of the past, no trickery in this.

I am none of these. So who am I? That matters not. I am untamable, bearing ties to no one. My alliegance lies not with the elves, nor the dwarves, nor even the humans. My heritage, bears little, next to no importance in why I am here. I have been away from home, for so long, after I have told my tale, you too will have forgotten me, for I will not be here afterwards. I am a recluse. I am a hermit. I am a nomad. I am an outcast. But you may call me Caed.

***

I am afraid to inform you, my friends, for it seems that my tale must take a bit of a break. Fear not, for before my last breath, all will know my tale. I owe the people in this story that much. Before I die...and finally am ready and able to flee this cursed World...their story shall be known. But it would appear that in the distance as I travel these once beautiful woodland forest that some people traveling in a caravan are in need of my help.

​

Caed stops playing his guitar, and straps it onto his back. He then unhooks his crossbow that once hung by the clip on his belt, and gets ready for whatever awaits him. He draws nearer and nearer to caravan, when he lays his crossbow at rest, for he notices there is no need to be armed.

People. A family to be more accurate. They wander around the forest trails, yet it seems that they do not where to go. They do not even look or pay attention to the wandering bard that crosses their path. The poetic figure stops.

"Oi, where are you headed exactly? You don't want to go down this way. Not at this time of day. You will not reach the next town until well after sundown. And I preach to you, you do not want to cross the creatures that travel the forests here at night."

The family continues to ignore the musician, and that is when Caed notices something in their eyes: fear. They are struck with fear, and it is that fear that seems to move them along this woodland road. Sigh, Caed straps his crossbow back on his belt, and pulls out his guitar as he climbs upon a rock. Tuning his guitar and sitting upon a rock as the family passes, the bard begins to pluck his strings reluctantly.

"Oi!"

With a stroke of his fingers, this time as the bard plays his harmonious song, there is mysticism behind that beautiful high pitched noise. The traveling family stops, entranced by his temporary enchantment spell. Sighing yet again, having to resort to such a method, the bard jumps down from the rock, still holding the guitar in his hands.

His hands...they never stop moving as he keeps his melodic tune going.

"What are you fleeing from? What bids you to travel these cursed lands as though you have no soul? No own free will of your own."

The father of the tormented family looks to Caed, and utters one word.

"Atttttthhheennsss."

The man speaks with such fear in his voice as it makes a hiss as though the very word was forbidden to speak. Caed stops plucking his strings, and the family continues to travel down the woodland trail. Caed mutters under his breath.

"Only few things in this forsaken world can cause a man to act like that...something stirs among the lands of Greece. It would seem that Athens calls out to me..."

Caed starts to strum on his guitar as he walks the opposite way of the family, heading for Athens. He starts to hum a tune as he starts his journey. A tune only the wind can hear.

Whatever has scourged the land of Athens, shall be swept away with my grande and dynamic crescendo. My chorus will echo endlessley much like my arrows in the nightsky that shall pierce the armors of the wicked. And let my precision be as fierce and mighty as my coda, which I shall use to rid the world of said evil.
​

 

[Catman_prb]

Kelvamin walked down a side-road in the ruined city-state of Athens, looking at the charred houses with a detached interest. The wind whistled alarmingly through the deserted streets. The white-robed warrior used the silence to clear his mind, as he passed the desecrated corpses of those Athenians who had not been turned into zombies by the thrice damned lich lord. The wind brought a faint sound to Kelvamin's well trained ears.

"Take heed, warriors!" The Docktore proclaims as he races down the hill with his bombs in hand.

"The good Docktore will bestow sciense on our side."

Without a second thought, the warrior began to sprint down the street, hopping over the debris that obstructed him. Whether it was the thought of company in this blasted place or the idea of a battle with which to whet his blade that spurred him on, he did not know. Kelvamin pulled his katana from the scabbard on his back as he rounded the corner of the street.

"By my oath," he murmured, gazing at the marilith writhing against the backdrop of a flaming inn. A group of people were attacking it, the majority of whom he recognised as Norsemen. As he watched, the blasted demon brought what appeared to be an ornate cleaver down on one of the brave warriors. He closed his eyes and shifted. He opened them again and deflected the blade with his katana, so it merely sliced along his shoulder. Kelvamin grinned.

"Greetings men of the North," he said, his eyes locked on those of the marilith "I am Kelvamin the Sword-Winder. Shall we return this creature to the abyss?"

 

[trustyside-kick]

Some people would call me a scholar, but I just choose wisely with my words. Others would call me a man of god, a preacher. I have my beliefs, and fear the Almighty for his presence is indeed here, but I do not praise him. Many would go to call me a prophet, believing that my stories fortell possible future events, but I merely re-tell tales of the past, no trickery in this.

I am none of these. So who am I? That matters not. I am untamable, bearing ties to no one. My alliegance lies not with the elves, nor the dwarves, nor even the humans. My heritage, bears little, next to no importance in why I am here. I have been away from home, for so long, after I have told my tale, you too will have forgotten me, for I will not be here afterwards. I am a recluse. I am a hermit. I am a nomad. I am an outcast. But you may call me Caed.

***
​

Traveling for days, finally Caed can see a cloud of smoke blanketing the sky. Knowing fully well the road he traveled, he had no doubt at all in his mind that the smoke was coming from Athens.

"Once a bustling and cosmopolian metropolis...Athens, what has happened to thee? Once practically the centre of the arts, philosophy...home to the great Plato and Aristotle...Socrates. Everything bright and beautiful in this plagued world."

Swinging around his guitar, and taking it up in his hands, Caed starts to tune his guitar. Strumming his strings until they hit the pitch he wanted, not too sharp but also not too flat, he starts to hum under his breath.

"I shall write a song for you, my beloved Athens. The arts and philosophies of your great and powerful city-state will not be forgotten. I will write your history in poetry and song."

I believe I shall continue my story now, until I reach the scourged city-state. My...mind wishes to be elsewhere. The blurry and distant image before me...stirs up too many memories of the past.
​

...Elwin stares at the cruel ruler of Caldoria. Every second he stares at that elvin smirk of a smile causes Elwin to swell with hate and rage in his heart. He was chosen by Magus' brother Lance, to watch over and protect young Kelvin. And now, for all Elwin knows...Kelvin lies captive or dead by some lucky Caldorian soldier.

"Tell me, o great and powerful King of Caldoria...why strike today? Why now? Why this town of Keltor?"

That is when Elwin sees the glittering object draped around Magus neck as the Caldorian King spreads apart his cape, kneeling down to the human.

"Does there truly, really, have to be a reason for everything, sir? You experience this day, as the day that the Caldorian Kingdom invaded your lands, and took it for you. Me? This is merely a stepping stone towards the reign of the new Caldorian Empire. More blood will be shed and more homes will burn. Such is the way of things."

***

"You've spent more then enough time thinking, Kelvin. We do not have many great options, alright? The best we can do, is one of us sneak upon the two archers and take them out first. Granted, we will be exposed and battle will ensue, but that will happen regardless. I don't know about you, but I will not die by some bowmen. Cowardless and weak is what they are. Such a death is not fitting for a Dragon Rider."

Nodding, Kelvin and Drake climb on two different buildings. Sneaking across the rooftops of the building, Drake and Kelvin make their way to the archers. Both are aware they are not alone, and turn to strike their unknown foes with their sharp arrows. But both Drake and Kelvin are prepared, deflecting the shots with their swords in near unison.

The fray ignites the rest of the soldiers in the area, and Elwin spots Kelvin and Drake battling the archers. Drake slices off one of the archer's arms, stabbing him clean through the chest with his second sword. Kelvin, however, struggles as his bowmen foe is much more agile. The long strokes of his broadsword miss his foe.

"What is this? An elf amongst you humans?"

Ignoring Elwin, Magus sends an order for 3 troops to climb up the building and capture the elf. All the while Drake drops down from the building, and begins to battle 2 members of the Armored Elite who wield battle axes and spears.

Kelvin finally defeats the archer, hitting him with the butt of his sword hilt and proceeding with a stab through the stomach. But as he has one victory, he is approached by the 3 Caldorian soldiers...
​

 

[Johnny Blaze]

Rothgar grunted in pain as the deflected blow of the maralith's blade sliced a small chunk of flesh from his shoulder. The demon's gnarly spear thrust towards his gut, but Rothgar ducks and rolls to the creature's side. With a battle cry, Rothgar slices into the beast's serpentine tail.

The maralith howls in shock and pain, surprised the flames had caused it harm.

Rothgar smiles, "What's the matter, *****? Do the divine flames of Banahogg hurt?"

The maralith gnashes it's teeth as it swipes at the human, once, twice, thrice. Rothgar ducks and parries the blows as best he can, but the strength behind the last blocked sword strike sends Rothgar falling to his backside.
As he readies to defend himself again, a battle cry draws both he and the demon's attention.

"He does now." Gunnar growled, his hand grasping the hilt of his sword. The blade sung as Gunnar lifted it high above his head, and let out a mighty roar.

"FOR ODIN!"

Rothgar rolls out of the way of the stabbing spear as a small group of Viking warriors join the fray.

"Aren't you a sight for weary eyes", exclaims Rothgar as the Norsemen engage the demon.
"Mayhaps Odin has heard my prayers after all."

Suddenly a small black orb strikes the maralith who catches it and stares at it quizzically.

BOOM!

The explosion knocks the creature back and bloodies its face with shrapnel.

"Take heed, warriors!" The Docktore proclaims as he races down the hill with his bombs in hand.

"The good Docktore will bestow science on our side."

The duo race down to join the Norsemen in battle. Though wielding strange weaponry, Rothgar doesn't dwell on it. At this point he'll take all the help he can get.

"It would seem this celebration is in full swing", howls a joyous Rothgar as Banahogg digs deep into the maralith's side.

The demon roars, an infernal sound that sends of a shiver up the spines of all combatants, and smashes Rothgar in the face with the pommel of one of it's swords.
Rothgar staggers backwards and falls.

Looking towards the demon, Rothgar sees it loft it's hellish cleaver up into the air and bring it down towards the head of one of his countrymen. Rothgar winces as he anticipates the death blow...

"By my oath," he murmured, gazing at the marilith writhing against the backdrop of a flaming inn. A group of people were attacking it, the majority of whom he recognised as Norsemen. As he watched, the blasted demon brought what appeared to be an ornate cleaver down on one of the brave warriors. He closed his eyes and shifted. He opened them again and deflected the blade with his katana, so it merely sliced along his shoulder. Kelvamin grinned.

"Greetings men of the North," he said, his eyes locked on those of the marilith "I am Kelvamin the Sword-Winder. Shall we return this creature to the abyss?"

Rothgar looks into the surprised eyes of the maralith, "Hahahahaha! It appears not to be your day, wench!"

With the sudden appearance of yet another warrior, the maralith begins to fight with more caution. Rothgar takes full advantage and rolls inside the creature's guard. Rising to his feet in one fluid motion, Rothgar swipes Banahogg in a rising arc, lopping off two of the demon's arms.

The creature tumbles to the ground, hissing it's hatred at it's human attackers. Rothgar sees in the demon's eyes that it knows it is overwhelmed now. In a matter of seconds the maralith will surely flee, and that is something Rothgar will not allow.

With a battle cry of bestial ferocity, Rothgar leaps onto the demon's back burying burning Banahogg deep into the maralith's back between it's shoulder blades.

"Quickly! Finish the beast before it can retreat to safety!"

 

[Catman_prb]

With a battle cry of bestial ferocity, Rothgar leaps onto the demon's back burying burning Banahogg deep into the maralith's back between it's shoulder blades.

"Quickly! Finish the beast before it can retreat to safety!"

"I feel for you," Kelvamin said, nodding his head in the direction of the marilith, crouching down on the ground before leaping upwards. He swung his razor-edged katana in a wide arc during his jump, before landing on the ground behind the demon. For a second the beast remained upright with the norseman hanging off it's back. Then, slowly, the demon's head slid off of it's slender neck, thumping onto the ground.

Kelvamin wiped the blood on his cloth, before, moving over to his comrade-in-arms, who was underneath the decapitated body of the marilith. He held out his hand for the other to grip.

"A fine job my friend," he said "to who do I owe the pleasure?"

 

[Johnny Blaze]

Rothgar took the man's hand and was freed from being pinned under the maralith's corpse. And no sooner had he freed himself then the demon's body began to smoke and sizzle. Flames erupted from inside it's flesh, and the creature's body rapidly dissolved into smoke and ash.

Within seconds the body was gone, the only sign of it's existence the large scorch mark on the ground and the stench of burning flesh hanging in the air.
The maralith was defeated, banished back to infernal realm of Baator for one-hundred years.

Rothgar spat at the section of earth in distaste where the demon's body disappeared, his spit sizzling as it touched the hot ground.

Turning back to face the man who performed the death blow, as well as the others who joined the battle, Rothgar sheathed Banahogg and wiped some ash from the tunic that covered his chainmail.

"My thanks, friends. Had it not been for you, I surely would be in Valhalla by now."

"My name is Rothgar, son of Aðalvaldr", he introduced himself with a short bow of respect to his fellow warriors.

 

[Johnny Blaze]

Cy-Spar silently crept into the window of the dark room. He had finished overseeing the acquisition of the caravan's goods, and quietly returned home. He was tired from the stakeout and battle, and needed a bit of rest.

He did wish to arouse anyone, so he had silently made his way though his family compound and successfully sneaked into his bedroom window, carved into a massive stalactite.

No sooner did his feet touch the floor of his room, then a melodic voice broke the silence.

"What were you up to, little brother?"

The lichen on the walls suddenly brightened, dimly illuminating the entire room. His sister, Xunnil, stood next to the closed door, a connivingly curious eye cast his way.

"I merely went out for a stroll around the city to alleviate the boredom. Nothing more."

"Truly", she smirked as she stalked towards him with a smirk.

"Then why the sneaking in? Why would you not simply walk through the front gates? You are a noble of House Tuin'Tarl, after all", she asked as she cast a dubious gaze his way.

"I simply desired to test the alertness of the guards. And I am not impressed. I think we need to publicly execute a few to set an example that such sloppiness will not be tolerated."

Xunnil smirked knowingly. She knew her brother well, and she knew he was up to something.

"Next time I suggest bringing some soldiers along with you. You know we are in dispute with House Faerbuk. It is not safe to be wandering the streets alone."

"I shall take your council into consideration next time, dear sister", Cy-Spar said with a low, courteous bow.

Xunnil chuckled, "Good night, brother. We will talk again later."

With that the slender drow priestess left the room. And when she did, Cy-Spar slumped while standing. He was exhausted from his work, and made his way to the lavish bed made from spider-silk and silently fell into it.

It was only moments later that darkness took and he faded into sleep...

 

[SenseiofCheese]

"My thanks, friends. Had it not been for you, I surely would be in Valhalla by now."

"My name is Rothgar, son of Aðalvaldr", he introduced himself with a short bow of respect to his fellow warriors.

"Rothgar, son of Aðalvaldr." Gunnar lowered his sword and grabbed the man´s hand. "I am Gunnar. Gunnar the Tame, and these are my men. Birgir, and the Brothers Ormson." Gunnar bowed slightly. "It is always a pleasure to meet a friend from the North, Rothgar. Odin´s hand guides us well, no doubt."

 

[Catman_prb]

"Rothgar, son of Aðalvaldr." Gunnar lowered his sword and grabbed the man´s hand. "I am Gunnar. Gunnar the Tame, and these are my men. Birgir, and the Brothers Ormson." Gunnar bowed slightly. "It is always a pleasure to meet a friend from the North, Rothgar. Odin´s hand guides us well, no doubt."

"Gunnar, Rothgar, Birgir, Brothers Ormson, it is indeed fortuitous that we should be in the area at the same time," Kelvamin said, bowing to each of the warriors in turn and to the two alchemists "Perhaps some higher power is in fact guiding us along a certain path. To the lair of the Lich-King perhaps?"

 

[SenseiofCheese]

"Gunnar, Rothgar, Birgir, Brothers Ormson, it is indeed fortuitous that we should be in the area at the same time," Kelvamin said, bowing to each of the warriors in turn and to the two alchemists "Perhaps some higher power is in fact guiding us along a certain path. To the lair of the Lich-King perhaps?"

With a curt nod, Gunnar looked across the barren visage of Athens. "The monster that did this...we will force him down to the deepest point of Niflheim. Hela must have a special spot of terror reserved just for him."

If Björn really had survived the destruction of Athen, Gunnar thought, then surely he would have moved on by now. There was no doubt in Gunnar´s mind that searching through the rubble, looking under each and every stone, would be nothing short of wasting time he didn't have. If he knew his brother, and he did, he knew that Björn would most certainly take to the Lich-King´s lair.

"The Lich-King will know pain greater than words may describe." he growled with contempt.

 

[Carnage27]

Amun had crossed the undead hell scape that was the southern Greek countryside in a matter of days, and finally laid his eyes on what was once the proud city of Athens.

"By the power of Ra..."

The city's great halls of learning laid in waste, and its citizens stalked the streets as an undead horde the likes of which he hadn't seen since he was a boy. Since the lich's invasion of his homeland.

Wasting now time, the Champion of the Sun rushed the nearest group of zombies, khopesh in hand, slicing limbs and hacking away at heads. He had not felt the thrill of battle in many moons, and it felt good to release these souls from their torment.

He continued into the city, destroying the lifeless husks that he passed, until he happened upon a group of warriors held up further into the city.

"Greetings, my friends. What brings this ragtag group into the city of the damned?"

 

[Johnny Blaze]

"Rothgar, son of Aðalvaldr." Gunnar lowered his sword and grabbed the man´s hand. "I am Gunnar. Gunnar the Tame, and these are my men. Birgir, and the Brothers Ormson." Gunnar bowed slightly. "It is always a pleasure to meet a friend from the North, Rothgar. Odin´s hand guides us well, no doubt."

"Birgir, the Brothers Ormson", Rothgar shook each man's hand with a firm shake and gave them a nod of respect.

"Gunner the Tame", Rothgar questioned with a smile.
"You did not look so tame to me moments ago. And I am lucky for it."

"Gunnar, Rothgar, Birgir, Brothers Ormson, it is indeed fortuitous that we should be in the area at the same time," Kelvamin said, bowing to each of the warriors in turn and to the two alchemists "Perhaps some higher power is in fact guiding us along a certain path. To the lair of the Lich-King perhaps?"

With a curt nod, Gunnar looked across the barren visage of Athens. "The monster that did this...we will force him down to the deepest point of Niflheim. Hela must have a special spot of terror reserved just for him."

If Björn really had survived the destruction of Athen, Gunnar thought, then surely he would have moved on by now. There was no doubt in Gunnar´s mind that searching through the rubble, looking under each and every stone, would be nothing short of wasting time he didn't have. If he knew his brother, and he did, he knew that Björn would most certainly take to the Lich-King´s lair.

"The Lich-King will know pain greater than words may describe." he growled with contempt.

"Lich", Rothgar exclaimed in surprise.
"A lich is behind this? How do you know this?"

But before any answer could be given, the sound of footsteps grabbed the men's attention.
Climbing over the mound of rubble that was once a massive building came a man dressed in garb that marked him as Egyptian.

Amun had crossed the undead hell scape that was the southern Greek countryside in a matter of days, and finally laid his eyes on what was once the proud city of Athens.

"By the power of Ra..."

The city's great halls of learning laid in waste, and its citizens stalked the streets as an undead horde the likes of which he hadn't seen since he was a boy. Since the lich's invasion of his homeland.

Wasting now time, the Champion of the Sun rushed the nearest group of zombies, khopesh in hand, slicing limbs and hacking away at heads. He had not felt the thrill of battle in many moons, and it felt good to release these souls from their torment.

He continued into the city, destroying the lifeless husks that he passed, until he happened upon a group of warriors held up further into the city.

"Greetings, my friends. What brings this ragtag group into the city of the damned?"

Rothgar sense no ill feelings of the man. His walk, his movements...all too precise. Fluid. With a purpose. He was a fighter, that much was certain.

"The same reason which brings you here I would assume. To find out what was behind this brutal attack and put an end to it forevermore."

"I am Rothgar, and who might you be, friend?"

 

[trustyside-kick]

Some people would call me a scholar, but I just choose wisely with my words. Others would call me a man of god, a preacher. I have my beliefs, and fear the Almighty for his presence is indeed here, but I do not praise him. Many would go to call me a prophet, believing that my stories fortell possible future events, but I merely re-tell tales of the past, no trickery in this.

I am none of these. So who am I? That matters not. I am untamable, bearing ties to no one. My alliegance lies not with the elves, nor the dwarves, nor even the humans. My heritage, bears little, next to no importance in why I am here. I have been away from home, for so long, after I have told my tale, you too will have forgotten me, for I will not be here afterwards. I am a recluse. I am a hermit. I am a nomad. I am an outcast. But you may call me Caed.

***
​

...There is much fear in Elwin's eyes, and luckily Magus does not see this for he watches closely to the short distance. He watches as Kelvin fights 3 Caldorian soldiers, fighting his own.

"The boy's sword skills are simply astounding. And...that crest...he wears the crest of Caldoria..."

Like a fool, nervous and frightened for Kelvin's safety, Elwin unknowingly reveals too much to Magus as he blurts out in reply.

"No no. That elf? No. He's...he's been prisoner here for months. The whole town hates him."

That is when Magus looks back at Elwin, and sees the fear in his eyes. The King smiles a devlish one, and leans towards the blacksmith in observation. Studying his facial expression, the change of strength in his voice, Magus lets out a laugh.

"Hahahaha. You said you knew my father, did you not blacksmith?"

"Y-Y...Yes."

"You know, then...that I was not always an only child."

"...Yes."

Magus stands back up, again glancing at Kelvin as he has already taken down 2 of the Caldorian Armored Elite. He watches as the young elf deflects one of the Caldorian warrior's attacks.

"A spitting image of his father, nonetheless. My fraternal twin brother. Lance you poor fool. You entrusted my nephew to these weak Keltoren people. You thought you could hide him from me..."

Turning back to Elwin, Magus now draws his sword, the sharp end of the blade resting just before Elwin's throat.

"You will die watching me take my nephew captive, blacksmith. And then I will force him to watch my men execute you. Such is the crime for...stealing my family from me."

"Steal him! Lance came to me because he knew that you'd at nothing...NOTHING at all until you bathed in Kelvin's own blood!"

"You do not know how correct you are, blacksmith."

Just as Magus is about to turn around and order the rest of his soldiers, just in time he dodges one of Drake's swings of his twin blade swords.

"They were a strong lot, but not a match for a Dragon Rider."

"Dragon Rider you say, then where is your beloved pet Dragon...firefly."

Seeing that he did not seem to pose as a threat at all to Magus himself, Drake starts to take a few steps back as the elven monarch treads foward with his elven sword. The sword starts to surge with electricity, and Magus raises it to meet the edge of Drake's two twin blades as Drake gets in a battle stance.

"Boy, you are entirely out of your league."

"Then perhaps we shall even the odds!"

Taking one of the battle axes from one of the fallen Armored Elite, Kelvin hurls it at his uncle. Magus stops the swinging axe in mid air with a fire spell that burns the axe into dust. The ashes fall before Magus' feet, and Drake tries to use this time to strike. Quickly his blades are yet again matched with Magus' and Magus elbows the Dragon Rider in training in the face, knocking him down. Before Drake can even get up, Magus' blade is at his throat, his other hand extended and pointing at Elwin which causes the sprinting young elf Kelvin to stop in his tracks.

"My my you've grown, Kelvin. I haven't seen you since you were a baby. And I see that you are well skilled in the arts of the broad sword. Most impressive. It must be those golden eyes of yours. Ah yes...I can never forget the sight of those golden eyes."

"Who...are you?"

Magus begins to chuckle a laughter so sadistic and insane, it almost causes Kelvin to falter as he stands before his evil uncle. The true heir to Caldoria is about to finally learn about his family's dreadful past. A past...that Elwin knew would one day find him. He just hadn't planned it to come so early...
​

 

[Byrd Man]

Rothgar sense no ill feelings of the man. His walk, his movements...all too precise. Fluid. With a purpose. He was a fighter, that much was certain.

"The same reason which brings you here I would assume. To find out what was behind this brutal attack and put an end to it forevermore."

"I am Rothgar, and who might you be, friend?"

"Isn't this just nice and sweet?" The Docktore blurted out.

"Having a nice little get together here among the undead and flesh eating monsters......Also, I am Dante Giovanni, The Docktore of Science at your service."

 

[Carnage27]

"Lich", Rothgar exclaimed in surprise.
"A lich is behind this? How do you know this?"

But before any answer could be given, the sound of footsteps grabbed the men's attention.
Climbing over the mound of rubble that was once a massive building came a man dressed in garb that marked him as Egyptian.

Rothgar sense no ill feelings of the man. His walk, his movements...all too precise. Fluid. With a purpose. He was a fighter, that much was certain.

"The same reason which brings you here I would assume. To find out what was behind this brutal attack and put an end to it forevermore."

"I am Rothgar, and who might you be, friend?"

"Good morrow, Rothgar. My name is Amun, Champion of the Sun and warrior of the Goddess Sekhmet," Amun said as he shook the hearty Nord's hand. "And make no mistake, this is the work of a Lich. I have seen what they can do before...one never forgets that kind of evil."

"Isn't this just nice and sweet?" The Docktore blurted out.

"Having a nice little get together here among the undead and flesh eating monsters......Also, I am Dante Giovanni, The Docktore of Science at your service."

Amun could not get a reading on the Docktore. He seemed odd, out of place in an area like this. He was gangly, not fit for battle, and his assistant seemed almost to cower in the presance of real warriors.

"Docktore of Science? What can you bring to the fight against the undead, my small friend?"

 

[Carnage27]

"Very well, Archilaus. As we share the same goal, a military alliance would be most beneficial."

"As we speak, my armies prepare to march on Bavaria and Munich as I begin the conquest of Germania. But the kingdoms to the East in Gaul pose a threat to our goal."

"As unlikely as it is, if they manage to rally their forces with enough haste they could prove to be a great nuisance to us."

I keep a smile hidden to myself before bowing yet again to the Lich, "Very well, Charaun. My armies shall march east. None shall survive."

Before I finish, I'm already hovering in the air before him, reminding him of the power I posses. I know he plans to dispose of my once his plans are complete, but I have no intentions of being destroyed.

I zoom off into the night sky, and return to my keep to find my assembled armies standing at attention, with Erik Bloodhorn, my werewolf general at their head.

"My liege, the men await their instructions."

"Thank you, Erik. You have done superbly," I say and then turn to my army. "My friends! My brothers! For too long have the other races shunned us, hunted us, and hated us! For too long have we being cast down by the so called superior races! But no more, my friends. No. For tomorrow night, we march for Gaul! Tomorrow night...we march for war!"

 

[Byrd Man]

Amun could not get a reading on the Docktore. He seemed odd, out of place in an area like this. He was gangly, not fit for battle, and his assistant seemed almost to cower in the presance of real warriors.

"Docktore of Science? What can you bring to the fight against the undead, my small friend?"

The Docktore smiles at the Egyptian and looks back at Watts.

"What can we bring?" He says in a bemusing way as he holds his fire-gauntlet out.

"The power of the human mind is my weapon!"

The Docktore triggers the flint liteur on his fire-gauntlet.

FWOOSH!!!

Fire leaps out the gauntlet and engulfs the reamins of the demon.

"My weapon is very lethal."