Agnes Aramor's Story

A reverberating scream filled the air and Trista felt her fingers twitch at the noise. Spinning around, she located the sound at its source. "Stay here," she quietly said to Venir without turning to him. "Come with me, Agnes," she said as she passed by one of the wagons. "Bring the half-ogre's keepers with you." A girl with sharp crimson hair leaped out enthusiastically, the sound of crunching sand under her feet satisfying to her ears.

"The metal man's got to be put down!" she shouted out to the two enforcers that had accompanied him in chains, walking backwards as she talked. "Make it quick!" Trista unsheathed her sword for good measure and held her shield firmly in hand, swiftly approaching the scene. Agnes rushed past her in a blinding dash, the sand kicking up in billowing waves of grains and desert smoke.

She drew back her sleeve as she ran, the runes engraved into arm glowing a brilliant red as she chanted under her breath: "Acht'ji vahk zau eras." She tackled the half-ogre plate and all, a massive wave of force crashing in after her - The surrounding area exploded upwards in a flurry of spraying sand and blood as if to force a crater into the ground below them. When the dust settled, Agnes was sitting on top of the armored beast. "Move an inch and I'll rip off your arms and legs," she whispered, though she wondered if he could even register her words.

Usually when hit with that kind of force, most Deadmen would whimper and cower in fear fairly quickly so Agnes was not expecting a retaliation immediately after she had issued her threat. Flung from the giant of a man as though she were weightless, she tumbled through the sand with enough force to make the bones in her body shake. Disoriented, she scrambled to her feet as quickly as she could, noticing that the runes on her arm were beginning to fade away.

"A little help here?" The girl grit her teeth, eyes scanning the rest of the Deadmen and enforcers at the scene for some kind of acknowledgement. Trista held her shield up and advanced slowly, nodding in Eolan's direction for him to get ready for a tussle.

"Stand down," Trista said, lowering herself into a combat stance. "That's an order."

Trista had watched the plated berserker move and cleave its away around the battlefield so this would be her first time seeing it up close. She must've said something to piss it off, because the half-ogre unleashed a vicious roar and rushed directly at her with its sword all pent up for a swing once it got within range. It didn't quite miss.

She did not expect it to move so quickly, especially not for its size. She only had time to raise her shield up to block but the massive blade split right through it, cleaving off the hand at an angle, finding herself in a situation much like that of the wounded shepherd. But it was only a hand, after all; Deadmen could not be bothered to worry over such things until the battle was over. The problem here was that there didn't seem to be an opening anywhere on his armor, so her sword was not likely to do her much good. Still, it was all she had at the moment so she'd have to deal with it.

Relying on honed reflexes and innate strength as a Deadman, she lunged for his neck in an aim to penetrate through the thick armor. No such luck. Her blade grinded against the metal plate in a shower of sparks and barely ducked under the beast's sword as it came around. However, she was not fast enough to avoid the return swing, the edge slicing through nearly half of her waist. She stumbled back and struggled to maintain her footing, figuring that this was a good time to retreat for the moment.

Having recovered, Agnes bolted in at that split second with a brilliant swirl of magical energy intertwined around her fist, coming in from his backside.

The behemoth grunted satisfaction in getting the commanders arm. However it's small victory was short lived when it felt an explosion of force. It's body still in motion from the swing, the impact unbalanced it, and for the third time that day the brute found itself tumbling into the sand, face first this time. This was becoming a rather annoying trend.

Snarling in anger, it pushed itself up and out of the sand. It turned itself over to face the commander. It bared it's teeth under it helm, growling as it tried to raise itself back up off the ground.

"Not looking so good," Agnes murmured with a wry grin as she took a look at Trista's missing hand and ravaged side, carefully watching the beast as he rose back up. Without answering, she pressed her sword into the girl's hands and she nodded in return, understanding. The half-ogre dashed forward again and had Trista not taken a quick back step at his next swing, he would've finished the job in completely severing her top from bottom. If she could focus entirely on stalling for a few more minutes, the chance of winning increased drastically. Of course, there was always the option of trying to take it down hand-to-hand, which would admittedly be more effective than trying to use a sword that is unable to pierce its armor even considering his vast superiority in strength.

She aimed to close in up to him to keep him from using the full extent of his weapon. Ducking under a diagonal swipe, Trista spun behind him with her back pressed to his, performing a rotary dance as each attempted to turn toward the other, the beast infuriatingly lashing out with his sword and hitting nothing. It didn't last for more than a couple seconds, as the next slash had enough momentum behind it for a wide arc that easily traveled faster than she could keep up with, taking her back off of his and staggering backward to dodge the blow.

"Heads up!" Agnes shouted, tossing Trista back her sword. She caught it neatly in her hand, keeping her eye on the armored beast so that she could keep a proper distance. The blade was now illuminated with glowing red runes, much the like the ones that the enforcer had inscribed into her arm, except that these weren't quite as potent. A makeshift augmentation, if you would. Both the Deadman and the enforcer circled the half-ogre, waiting for his next move.

Within moments the beast was back on its feet, its massive sword swinging in full motion once more. Another deadman joined the wench of a commander. The behemoth didn't care though. At this point all he cared about was smashing the ones attacking him into the ground.

They both circled him, showing surprising dexterity this time as they ducked under the swings of his blade. The commander managed to get behind him, probably thinking she could attack the giant freely at a close distance. She was wrong though. The beast used the momentum generated by the swing of it's sword to pivot mid swing. It let one had release the blade, and raised its free arm up in position to deliver a back handed strike across her face.

And he probably would have too. If the ground beneath the giants feet didn't suddenly give out from the meddling strangers magic.

Seeing the chance, Trista was the first to make a move. She closed in on him and swung her imbued sword, a brilliant spray of red sparks dashing out from the point of impact. When the blade connected, she pushed even further in her effort to knock the beast down as the initial strike was not enough, pressing her other arm against the sword's hand guard. When he was down, Agnes and the other two enforcers set themselves around him, ensuring that he would not attempt a second retaliation.

Trista sheathed her weapon and looked around for her severed hand among clutters of broken metal, the remnants of her destroyed shield. Venir would have to do something about her hand once he was done patching up the girl, or if he had already finished. She wouldn't be able to use it for a while, but all that mattered was that it was reattached and that it would be seeing action again when needed. The only problem was that it had somehow disappeared from the ground. She looked down at her dripping stub and then looked around. Something must've happened to it.

"Forget about inns," Trista said in a tired voice, looking up at Alexa. "My advice to you is to stay low and call it a day. If this happens again, I won't let you off the hook." Blinking, she stopped talking and looked both ways, sensing a presence around them. Her eyes drifted upwards and spotted Agnes sitting on the the roof, hands folded neatly in her lap and her legs dangling over the edge. She must've heard the commotion or seen her making her way to the bar. The enforcer only grinned, observing the two of them with some air of amusement. Trista kept her mouth shut this time, even considering that they didn't exactly share the worst of relations.

"Look, Trista," the enforcer started, "I know you. You're a good girl and I'm glad to have you with us, but you can't sweep these kinds of things under the rug and say the problem's solved. We've got to stick to the rules on this one. Out here, you kill a man that hasn't attacked you and you'll be seeing bars and gray walls for a long, long time. And don't tell me it was self defense, because those guys were more or less done fighting the minute they got their asses handed to them non-lethally."

"She was with us during the scuffle at the aqueduct. If she took a few lives, then she saved a few too."

Agnes very nearly let out a slip of the tongue and almost ended up saying, So what if she saved a couple of Deadmen? It was a strange case with her, as she would've easily said it to anyone else but Trista seemed to retain a humanity in her that should've rotted away long ago. Perhaps that could be attributed to her youth, though one couldn't say for sure and she certainly wasn't one to judge, at least not like that.

"Ah, whatever. I don't even give a damn anymore." She jumped down from the roof and landed lightly on her feet, brushing herself off. "Do whatever the hell you want," she murmured without turning back to them, taking her leave. "I've got better things to do than stand around arguing with a corpse."

---

Alexa Morrow

---

The woman was snippy, and annoying, a typical enforcer. Alexa had to deal with many enforcers when staying with Alistair, and each hated Deadmen in some way or another, as one does not train fighting dogs out of love for the creatures, but out of irreparable ignorance towards their plight. Alexa never found out how Alistair was able to convince the enforcers to let her stay with him, but because of their hatred for him. It was obviously more beneficial to the enforcers to let her stay, but it was too late to figure out why now. Sighing, she watched the woman leave, before walking next to Trista. She shook her head and spoke, "Well isn't she sweet? I guess enforcers are the same no matter where you go... and in reference to an Inn, I need a place to spend the night, not to kill more people. Hence why I asked. If I wanted to kill more people, why would I go to an Inn?" She didn't seem to sound condescending, it sort of just happened.

Eolan had kept to himself for most of the night, locked in his room in the second floor of the Redstone inn, putting his new acquisitions to good use. It wasn't until he'd finished that he paid any mind to the commotion outside, which he had subconsciously passed off as a common bar brawl. Indeed, even then it would not have mattered to him but for the faint yellow light being emitted by one of the runes etched into his shoulder. Illusion magic, most likely. A quick glance out the window confirmed his suspicion, but he could not possibly have predicted its source. There would be no fighting this force, no way to endure; it the only solution was to flee.

In three minutes' time, he emerged from the stable moving at a brisk pace, satchel slung over his shoulder and a horse's reins in each hand. If Agnes had not retrieved her mount by now, she was likely either indisposed or unaware of the danger they were now faced with. It was slow going, threading his way through the crowds. Some appeared lucid and panicked, but most were obviously possessed by madness of all conceivable kind. He saw men and women killing each other, harming themselves, shouting into the empty air, and covering their ears to imagined voices. When he came upon Trista, he found she had obviously escaped the worst of it, and was now attempting to pull the nearby Agnes out of a deep trance."You have no time for this," he said curtly, dropping the second set of reins and pulling the enforcer up onto the saddle in front of him. He started drawing a temporary copy of the ward on the back of the young girl's neck as he spoke to Trista. "The town is no longer safe for us; you need to evacuate the company. Where is the half-man being held?"

Eolan took off without a word, deftly weaving through the remaining townsfolk at almost a gallop, Agnes following close behind. He knew they probably had only minutes to spare, and there was no telling how far from the town they would need to get to be safe; if the hybrid was uncooperative, he would have to leave him behind to ensure his own survival.
When he located Randle, he seemed to be lumbering around blindly, chased by the aged enforcer they had met upon their return.
Ignoring the man, who seemed wholly lucid already, Eolan called out, "Halfman! It is no longer safe here; you must leave the city at once!" As he turned to continue toward the gate, Darkus let loose another bolt of electricity toward Randle and yelled to them, "FOOLS! Help me bring the beast down before he can do any more damage!"
Without hesitation, Eolan gripped his staff with both hands and twisted in his saddle, striking the oaf across the side of the head with a lour crack and sending him to the ground, where he lay still. There was no helping it, if he was going to hinder their escape as well as his own. He looked back at Randle, who had been stopped momentarily by the spell, unsure if he could understand them in his current state. "You will be safe if you choose to come with us." he said quietly, and with that, turned his horse around and galloped through the nearby gate, down the road, and toward the silhouettes atop the first rise.

Agnes hopped onto the back of a wagon making its way out of the city. Tremors rippled through the ground and she felt the wheels shake and creak under her. She closed and opened up her gauntleted fingers knowing full well that this wagon was not going to making it very far. Surveying the faces of the other passengers, she could make out that they were worried but not for the same reasons. The mass exodus from Gaudis had not gone unnoticed, to say the least. There was no way the starving desert predators would not be aware of such a rare opportunity. Fresh meat.

The sound of splintering wood and piercing screams filled the void of the silent desert winds and the low rumbling of the caravans. Clutching the side of the tarp, she poked her head out and witnessed the immediate destruction of a wagon that couldn’t be any more than twenty-five meters ahead of them. A select number of skath had pounced on it, tearing both its structure and its passengers to shreds within seconds. A young girl managed to drag herself out of the wreckage, clothes torn and bloody with eyes frozen in shock, her body quivering. Weeping quietly, she took firm grip on a hand sticking out of the debris, stifling her tears as the skath picked through the other end of the ruined wagon. Mustering her strength, she pulled hard and landed on her rear, realizing in horror that she had just taken a severed arm. Swallowing her pain, she gently interlocked the fingers of the dismembered hand with her own, tears streaming. She held it tightly to her chest and screamed, attracting the attention of the nearby predators.

Pushing the pieces of scrap away, the ones that weren’t already feeding had circled their way around the wagon, baring their salivating teeth and slowly advancing on their stationary prey. Agnes knew it was none of her business. She didn’t know what it was, but a strange force within her compelled her to move, to do something. As she stood up from her seat, all she could do was helplessly watch as one of them suddenly leaped onto the crying girl, snapping its head forward and ripping her apart, blood splashing across its maw. It snarled as other, smaller skath approached, aggressively claiming the quarry as its own and feasting hungrily on the freshly made corpse.

Her fingers bit into the wagon’s tarp and she reseated herself, brushing her hair to one side. The others sharing the wagon with her were on edge now, whispering amongst each other in fear and excitement. Agnes crossed her arms and closed her eyes. Was there nothing she could have done? Did she really care enough to have made a move?

A leaper bolted in from the side and hooked the neck of one of the horses drawing the wagon, putting all progress to a complete halt. Some of the passengers shrieked, and that was enough to grab notice from some of the skath poking around the other wagon. Agnes jumped out from the back, keeper her distance and making room as the exact same thing occurred. She didn’t know what led some of them to believe that it was safer inside even when they had clearly witnessed what had happened to the other wagon.

The vehicle buckled and broke down as it was attacked and only a few were able to scramble out of it alive. The survivors must’ve known she was an enforcement agent of some sort because they began to huddle behind her, though not too close, thankfully. She checked her gauntlets, making sure they had been fitted tightly enough. She’d never had to fight these things before and was not too keen on making it a first, preparing herself nonetheless.

The closest one jumped at her with its mouth wide open and Agnes responded with an attack of her own. “Acht’ji vahk zau eras!” She countered with a quick straight, unleashing a tight spiral of pure force into the strike. Massive waves of pressure expanded at the point of impact and the resounding shockwave must’ve rippled past its hard exterior and destroyed the brain because it remained still after getting sent knocked back. The sand sprayed and her body shifted back a few inches, faint strings of steam rising from her right gauntlet. She hadn’t even hit the half-ogre that hard in subduing him, but the point here was to send a clear-as-day message to the rest of the skath and that meant no holding back: “Don’t fuck with me.”

She let her arms drop to her sides, a vicious spark in her eyes as she stared down the other predators. They lowered their heads and let out low growls, gradually turning tail and making their way back to the other wagon. Her fist stung like hell now, not to mention the fact that she had expended a lot more of her energy than she needed for that punch. She’d have to wait it out a bit before she did something reckless again. She silently cursed under her breath for not having thought about the fact that there might be more where that came from. That wasn’t the first time she’d blown out a massive chunk of her reserves in a heat of the moment attack, and it was getting to be a really bad habit. She shook out the tensed muscles in her hands and took a cursory look around, gazing into stunned faces.

“The last horse is mine,” she said absently. “The rest of you can walk.” Shooing away the leaper, Agnes unbound the remaining horse, which was now understandably shaken. Saddling up on it, she was getting ready to move out when she noticed another rider out in the distance, grinning to herself. Trista. Looks like there'd be someone she was going to be catching up with real soon.

Well....that was different. The newcomer certainly had an...interesting...introduction. If his memory served him right, and he liked to think it did, she was a vida. A member of one of the Three Empires - which? He wasn't sure. All that was important that she was here and that meant another soul to worry about. Adrian had half a mind to simply leave with Nimba in tow - these peoples' lives were not his responsibility nor was he theirs. Their lives meant little to him by comparison.

Yet, despite the situation, Adrian couldn't help but chuckle at this woman's words. Stepping up to her, "I'm afraid not, my dear. Though, I'm sure we can quench your thirst later. For now, we must leave for safer parts. We are not welcome here," he locked eyes to every member of the assembled cast, directing his words to them all, "We've been here far too long." Looking back at the fair vida, "I will see to it that your thirst is satisfied in due time, miss." Though his posture commanding and his tone serious and direct, Adrian sensed a bit of flirtatious flare creeping into his tone. It was damn well instinctual to flirt with a pretty woman by this point. Call it an defense mechanism or, more aptly, a reflex.

Before further words could be exchanged, the violent shaking of the ground intensified, making the horses stumble and he (and everyone else) fall to their knees. It felt like a damned earthquake. Growling, Adrian spat in the sand. Cursing fate for bringing him to this gods forsaken land. His frustration was getting the better of him but he reined it in. He had to remain calm if he hoped to get Nimba, himself and - much to his ire - the rest of them out of there. Still, "By Ninous' bosom, what now?" It was a light curse but his nerves felt better for uttering it. He noticed several new people fleeing but it didn't put his mind at all at ease. A token few out of hundreds meant nothing.

And then, with an audible tearing, the earth split open to unleash a monstrosity of legends. A beast of the earth not seen in hundred of years now unbound from whatever slumber it once held to meet the floating entity in the sky.

A Hareton Worm.

The sheer size of the thing was staggering, what could only be a small part of the worm was visible, yet it was larger than a healthy chunk of the city. For a moment the ground stopped shaking as the gargantuan worm seemed to stare at the Monolith before letting lose an deep bellow - what sounded like a twisted version of a whale's call - so different than the alien symphony of the Monolith. The glowing orange marks scattered across its gray skin seemingly brightening in challenge.

Adrian could do nothing but watch as the two entities faced off - the Hareton Worm quelling in anger and challenge, a stark contrast to the Monolith's cool indifference. With a sharp roar the Worm shook the earth as it charged. Crashing through the city, annihilating everything in its path as it approached the floating entity. So many lives silenced in its destructive wake and yet Adrian could hear no panic, see no one else attempt to flee from the new threat.

The Worm then pounded itself against the Monolith's magnificent sandstone marker with such force that Adrian could hear the impact from where he stood...only to crash back down into the city - crushing buildings and people alike as if they where nothing. As for the Monolith? As far as he could tell the Worm's charge had had no effect at all, it simply sat where it appeared like an unmovable pillar. Its only movement the ever present rolling of gears and circling of its stone spheres.

Unwavering, the Worm crashed itself against the Monolith again and again. Destroying more and more of the city as it assaulted the ever quiet Monolith. After minutes of this the beast latched onto the Monolith's pillar before snaking it's way around it - seemingly intent on crushing the Monolith under the sheer force of it's vise. And still...nothing.

Moments past and finally....the Monolith sang. One long, steady and painfully deep note that seemed to sink into Adrian's very soul. It hurt him, made his ears bleed and yet....it was calming. As if preparing him for what's to come. In the back of his mind he felt another presence, different from the alien Monolith; protective. It seemed to wrap itself around him as a mother would protect her child from a coming threat.

At long last the Monolith's song ended and with it came the customary silence. No, it was more than that. Time itself seemed to stop in its wake. Even the once ever-moving Hareton Worm was still, wrapped around the stone obelisk. The entire world stopped by the Monolith's song.

And for what felt like a sickeningly long period of time, but could have only been moments, the stillness remained. The floating entity seemingly the only one allowed motion. And finally...as if the unknown being bored of the silence and the stillness...Adrian heard waves.

The sound of ocean waves! Thoughts of his past flooded his mind, memories of playing with his mother and sisters at the sea, sparring with friends on the beach, making love as the sea breeze swept by. It made Adrian long for home. But..but how could this be? They were so very far away from the ocean.

And then dawned a horrific realization: That was not the sound of waves hitting the shore. No, no, it was the falling of sand.

The Hareton Worm - the city of Gaudis itself - was breaking into sand. Flesh, blood, rock and bone. All fell in glittering piles of sand. It was almost beautiful; the last rays of the setting sun and the unearthly glow of the Monolith's gears reflecting off the falling grains in glittering majesty. Beautiful. Terrible; horrifying...but beautiful.

It took more than ten minutes for it all to settle to the ground and for more than ten minutes he and everyone else watched. Watched as dozens, hundreds! of years of history and the might of one of the world's wonders fall into dust. Thousands of lives - gone. There was nothing left but sparkling sand.

And all that remained was the Monolith. Resting in the air in indifferent alien majesty. A force of such absolute power that for a moment he thought even the gods were looking upon the scene in awe. The sands below reflecting light up upon it in a glorious display.

The Monolith's song a gift and a curse. The symphony of the cosmos to part the silence of the grave.

Trista found herself looking back toward the city. Noise permeated the air again, this time several notches more powerful than the last. She stared unblinkingly as the town crumbled, a calm stillness in her eyes as she watched. She did not have many fond memories of that place and felt nothing for those who had remained, unable or unwilling to flee. Though it was not a common sight, the spectacle was not enough to keep her interest. Even with the Monolith’s last, most resounding note, all she could gather was that her initial fear had completely escaped from her system. What spark of humanity that had entered her mind vanished and she made no note of it, simply turning her head away. Things were as they should be.

Agnes rubbed her fingers together and squinted, touching her ear again. A shiver tingled her body and the words to describe the feeling seemed out of her reach. She only grinned slightly to herself, wiping the blood from her hands. “Now look what that stupid worm’s gone and done. Here’s to hoping this doesn’t mean my brain’s leaking out from my ears, because the last one I came across didn’t let people off so easily.”

“A Monolith?” Trista asked, her gaze shifting to the enforcer.

“At least that’s what I think it was, couldn’t say for sure myself,” she shrugged. “It was all just pure speculation at that point. For all I know, we could’ve been wasted on Vynard mead and threw each around imagining the whole thing, but the image of an enormous glowing face with wings and an array of floating stones surrounding it doesn’t wash away so easily, especially not with more alcohol. On another note, I don’t think I’ll be missing this place very much. This place is too damn hot and it’s hard to find any good food around at a reasonable price. And what the hell happened to you anyway? You look like you tried to force yourself through barbed wire.”

Trista had stopped listening halfway, inspecting the badge she had plucked from her armor, turning it over to the back. Were it not for the inscribed runes that helped her stay in one piece as a Deadman, she would’ve gladly tossed it as far as her strength would permit. Instead, she pocketed it for safe keeping. No need to cause trouble by wandering around an unfamiliar place and letting everyone know that she was essentially a walking corpse. Some people could be very edgy.