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Alexa Morrow

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Chevalier was a good horse, a smart horse. He had been with Alexa for almost six years, he was the only constant in that time, her life usually dynamic, ever changing. He had kept her warm during winter nights where a fire was too dangerous, he had kept her out of danger, he had been there for her. He was her friend, her best friend. He wanted nothing more than to protect her, in his own way. To see him so easily accept Kryssis was impressive, he was usually slow to trust. Some might think it a sign, but Alexa was not so superstitious. The ride was painful, to put it lightly, Chevalier's galloping made her stomach sting with every leap. Kryssis's cold determination was attractive in a way, but it also made her seem distant, even though she was saving Alexa's life, again.

They stopped and Kryssis helped Alexa drink from her water skin. She looked up into her savior's eyes after she spoke. Alexa looked up coldly, again, still unable to hide her true feelings, like usual. After a moment she spoke, "It was worth it... To get the sound out of my head... to get it to stop showing me lies... I would've rather died then continue to look," she meant it, she truly meant it. Her mother smiling was a worse image than anything she could think of... it was wrong, distorted... incorrect... She would've preferred watching herself being whipped by her mother and her cruel face... Or a night with Alistair... or her biting out her uncle's throat... anything...

But her mother's smile?

It was so wrong... yet oddly... familiar...

Kryssis tilted her head to the side quizzically, searching Alexa's eyes while lowering the water skin, "If it lied, then that should have been more reason not to die. Trust me when I say that losing one's life while faced with a fallacy is horrible. I would have rather perished with what I'd known to be true, instead.. the opposite." She shoved the cork back into the skin and put it away, turning the horse by tugging on the rein and looking back out at Gaudis and the Monolith hovering above it. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep, slow breath. It wasn't necessary given she was.. well.. dead, but it would have been something she'd do in life anyway. It felt familiar, and that was soothing. It helped her think, nonetheless.

She opened her eyes, but they stayed locked on the city in the distance- her brow furrowed, lips turned in a mild frown. "I may have saved you from the Monolith, however.. the chances of your survival are not the greatest." She finally looked down at Alexa, her expression softening some as she took in the girl's state, "I.. am.. sorry if my honesty is not what you want to hear. I'll do what I can, but that is not much." She carefully laid a hand below the wound, not putting any pressure on Alexa, and traced a finger over the flat of the steel protruding from the girl's stomach. "Fight to keep awake. Losing consciousness might only lessen your chances of survival." She did not know what else to say. Kryssis had a feeling that Alexa might prefer words of comfort, but that was simply not in the Wyvernjack's nature - nor in her personal dictionary. At least while being honest Alexa would maybe appreciate that she was not lying. Had Kryssis tried to console her, her words would have come out awkward, hollow and obviously false.

Her head snapped up. The Monolith released five more notes. They rose and fell in pitch, the final pulse of sound the lowest yet. The grains of sand underneath the horse's hooves quivered - even this far away from Gaudis, it felt as if the thing was right overhead. The reverberations traveled down into her bones, and set her teeth to rattling. She spit into the sand, cursing the thing without uttering a word.

---

Alexa Morrow

---

Alexa closed her eyes as the sounds pulsed once more, seeing her father's face behind her eye lids... or was it her uncle's face? No... her father's... It went away when she opened her eyes. She stopped crying, thankfully, and looked up at Kryssis. She didn't know what to say, her bluntness was... comforting in a way. She smiled lightly and placed her arm around Kryssis's waist, saying, "If I am to die... I just ask that you hold me... while I die... and that you don't let them bring me back..." She wanted to be close to someone she trusted while she died... someone she cared for... she had just met this Kryssis that day, but she had saved Alexa's life twice, she was the closest human thing she had to a friend nearby... and she merely wanted to be comforted upon her death. She wanted to be held, as she had never been held in a loving manor since she could remember, it was nice, being cradled by Kryssis, if she had to die, there were many, many, worse ways than in Kryssis's embrace...

Kryssis understood Alexa's requests all too well. When she'd died, she had felt entirely alone. Cold. Afraid. She had so wanted some form of comfort, simple human companionship. Base responses that had been buried deep down in her subconscious brought out to the fray only by the definitiveness of death itself. There was not a more horrible feeling she'd ever known. As for the other, she wished she'd never been resurrected - despite acknowledging that the Ancestor's plans for her may have been far worse than this slavery to people who were once her prey. "I would not let them take your body for their ends, you have my word in that regard," she promised with a solemn nod, dipping her head low as she did. "As for holding you, I.. am not..." She looked down at the knife in Alexa's gut, and then back into her eyes. Searching her mind for something, anything to do that might meet what she'd asked, she recalled memories of caretakers in her tribe tending to babes. How they'd sometimes held them. Sighing in a form of surrender, Kryssis merely brought Alexa closer to her, cradling the girl's head against her shoulder while balancing out how she supported her legs. "I am sorry you have to suffer a coward's death, Alexa." If the girl asked her to end her suffering, Kryssis would have complied without hesitation. She understood mercy killings for people who were in great pain - or of extreme age. But, she was quite certain Alexa did not want to die.

---

Alexa Morrow

---

The closeness was calming, she loved how it made her feel. The serene feeling resonating from the warrior's spirit within Kryssis, it was godly. She smiled for just a moment before speaking, her blissful assurance of death loosening her tongue, "I suppose I deserve a coward's death... after all those that I had dealt out over the years... I killed a man while he was eating dinner with his family once... the arrow piercing his chest, not his heart... so he slowly died in front of his wife and children... It was fitting, he liked to beat orphans on the streets..." she felt her strength waning as her arms fell to the sides, no longer being able to keep them up. It was near, her death. It was slowly coming, unlike with the reaper... she was prepared then... but not this time. This time she wanted to live. She continued speaking, "I burned my own mother to death, not even giving her a chance... I deserve this fate." Her mother was an evil person, she deserved to die... that was what she always thought. But that smile... that gods damned smile... She looked up at Kryssis and frowned, genuine tears falling from her eyes, "But I don't want to die."

Kryssis smiled, if it could be called that. It was.. odd. At least that was how it felt. It did not look entirely one born of humor, but was not unkind or mocking. It was as offsetting as she tended to be. "It seems you and I are similar in all the wrong ways," she remarked with a sigh. "You kill those you think have done wrong. Murderers and rapists. Those who harm the innocent. I am precisely that kind of person, Alexa," she admitted without a trace of guilt or shame. She had no reason to feel bad about it.. at least, she did not used to. Her face betrayed something inside of her, her mouth twisting and eyes darkening. "I used to kill because I enjoyed it. The suffering I caused. At least you had a purpose behind those slayings. I enjoyed the misery. The screams." Shaking her head, she quietly said, "But.. I am not sure why I did, anymore. I never thought about the reason, and now that I try.. there is nothing there for an answer." Her hand shifted, resting on Alexa's shoulder and squeezing tightly. With a shake of her head, Kryssis said, "I know that fear of death. I.. doubt there is much I can do to alleviate it. I'm sorry." She truly was, especially as she felt the girl's body beginning to go weak, seeing the tears on her face. It hurt to watch, because for once in her life, for a reason she couldn't fathom. Kryssis Wyvernjack- living hand of the Ancestor, the god of the dread tribe Sidheghul- cared. At that moment she didn't wonder why, because all she could think was that she did not want Alexa to die. She did not want to fail this girl so horribly.

That name...Kyna-Far, he knew it. It was vague but familiar...like a child's nursery song he heard a long time ago. A familiar comfort, a loving face. Thoughts of his youth flooded his mind for a moment and he shook it away. Why Nimba spoke it he did not know, and if it was truly the Monolith's name it didn't matter. Not now. Grabbing her arm to get her to focus, "We'll figure it out later. We need to go - now." And with that he was on the move.

Pausing, only for a moment, to address the Deadman woman, "I suggest finding a horse." Adrian nodded in the general direction of the city gates, the obvious location of the stables. Looking around upon the crippled citizenry before them - so few of those still conscious breaking out of their trance. Those who had were ether trying to get the others up or were already running away. Looking her in the eyes, his voice not sugar-coating a word, "We can not save them. We must move!"

Ushering Nimba to follow, Adrain started to run- setting off to the gates, making a deliberate effort to slow himself so his charge could easily keep up. Making his way through city streets with such ease that it was like he lived there his entire life - his keen senses and observation skills up to snuff as always. Weaving his way through the people on the ground. It felt like a graveyard. The bodies - all alive, yet ready to die. One woman on her knees looking up to the heavens in awe, as if praying. He did not know what the Monolith wanted of them, how could he possibly know the unknowable? It was very possible the great entity would just sit there - observing the mortals below it. But the possibility did not soothe Adrian as he'd read countless stories of Monoliths' wrath - the sheer destruction they could cause. It frightened him to the core.

Finally entering the stable a part of Adrian's heart weeped at the likely fate of such magnificent animals. Adrian always liked horses, he handled them well. Approaching one of the only calm ones - a fine black stallion - slowly as not to spook it only to find it was in a kind of trance. The Monolith's presence effected all, not just humans. At a start the horse broke out of its spell and reared back, obviously scared. Adrian remained calm, his palm out as he approached. "Easy, my friend. Let me help you escape the wake which we'll all surely face."

Adrian did not know if the stallion understood his words, but the animal seemed to calm at his tone. Letting the horse sniff his hand before resting his palm against it's snout, "Good boy," Adrian patted the stallion's head, stroking its mane. Despite the situation at hand, Adrian was pleased.

After soothing the horse for several more moments, Adrian mounted the animal without a problem, Nimba close behind. The moment she was secure they were off, galloping out of the city at speed...only to be stopped by the Monolith's horns.

The stallion cried out in fright, nearly throwing the riders off as it reared. Adrian had to struggle to get it to calm itself, it was harder here because he had to worry about it throwing Nimba off. More stressful. But..at last the steed settled down. That cleared, they set off away from Gaudis and the Monolith above once more.

After a short time he noticed another horse in the distance. Galloping closer, Adrian's eyes made out the Sidheghul - who appeared to be holding another. After a moment he realized it was the woman from before who'd stabbed herself. Glancing back at Nimba, "Prepare yourself, you'll likely be called upon for healing soon."

Approaching the two, Adrian's eyes locked on the wounded woman. It was getting dark. The sun had yet to set fully but its light was to his back and the glow of the Monolith's mighty gears was not enough to properly illuminate an area so far out from the city. Feeling the rune on his neck tingle Adrian's eyes began to glow faintly - the fog of darkness peeling away. What he saw only confirmed his suspicions.

The woman was not long for this world, if the blood loss did not take her then the shock would. Approaching next to them. Adrian dismounted the horse, already in the process of removing his cloak, "Get her on the ground. If the blade is not removed soon she will succumb to her wounds." They simply stared at him, he growled, "Now." His voice was commanding, it held no room for question or debate.

He spread out his cloak on the ground before taking a position to help lower the wounded from the horse if needed. Adrian didn't want to be here, he knew the range of devastation a Monolith could inflict and considered this area much too close. Still, they were out of the most immediate danger and the woman needed to be treated as soon as possible.

Kryssis scrutinized Adrian, her pride dictating she keep ahold of Alexa. Without missing a beat, she threw her leg over the horse and slipped onto the ground and smoothly as she could, tucking her body into a crouch to absorb as much of the impact blow as she could. Glancing at Alexa to make sure she was still conscious, Kryssis gingerly laid her out on the cloak, throwing a look up at Adrian- a silent, "Thank you, but this is mine to carry," and then turned her attention to Nimba who approached dutifully. The cocky face she wore the last time she'd seen the white-haired girl was nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by a serious, stern visage that betrayed her. She all too well knew the gravity of the situation. She knelt down next to Alexa and set her staff on the ground, looking briefly into Kryssis' eyes in a signal that she was prepared.

With naught but a nod, Kryssis grabbed the dagger by the hilt and quickly removed it from the wound. As the blood began to gush, Nimba crushed her hands over the wound to stem the tide. She took a breath, eyes fluttering back, and mumbled silent words in a language Kryssis had never heard before. Seconds passed, and then Nimba withdrew her hands. Blood stained Alexa's clothes, but the wound had been sealed. Nimba sighed and shook her head, "Much longer and I'd have had a nib ma'a ku time patchin' that up." She patted Alexa on the leg, saying, "You're lucky your friend here cared enough to carry you outta there, sister." Noticing the blood on her hands, Nimba chuckled dryly and got up to move away.

Kryssis set a hand on Alexa's shoulder, looking her in the eye and.. not quite knowing what to say. She opened her mouth for a moment, but no words came out, and her jaw swung shut. Her head drifted from side-to-side, and she offered a nod instead. Kryssis did not quite know what to say to the girl after she'd just had her life saved. "Are you well enough to move, then?" She asked, instead, her tone a little shaky.

---

Alexa Morrow

---

She wanted to reassure Kryssis, make her feel good about herself after Alexa died... but Alexa couldn't think of a single thing to help her, instead, she chose to be selfish with her final acts. She wanted one last thing from Kryssis, a final goodbye to the world. A kiss. They were so different, yet Alexa felt so close to her... She knew she was going to lose consciousness soon, and without knowing it, she would die while in that state. it was assured, she knew it was going to happen and there was nothing that could stop it. So she opened her mouth, preparing to give her final request, when Ginerva decided to play a cruel joke on Alexa. Help arrived. It was the two from the bar, something about them was odd, but Alexa couldn't figure it out then, and certainly couldn't in the state she was in. Keeping her close, protecting her, Kryssis allowed them to heal her, under her guidance of course. Alexa felt safe with Kryssis there, she was too weak to defend herself, too weak to stand, too weak to survive on her own. Normally she would have despised the feeling, but with Kryssis there, she felt okay about it.

She lied there, staring up into Kryssis eyes for a long while before Kryssis spoke. Her words were distant, but her tone told another story. Alexa smiled a bit, looking down at her blood soaked jerkin, it was definitely the worst wound she'd ever had, funny enough it was dealt with her own hand. She tried to get up and failed. She bit her lip before saying, "I can travel, yes, just not with my own two feet," she gazed into Kryssis's eyes and asked, "Could you help me back up on Chevalier? And could I have my knife back? I promise not to stab myself again." She smirked, holding out her hand, while propping herself up a bit with the other.

The shepherd couldn't help but overhear the conversation between the enforcer and the deadwomen as the subject broached towards the subject of them going back to normal. David couldn't help as he felt the need to interject.

"I'm sure of it. One way or another, all deadmen will find peace."

Instead, however he stayed silent. David was just getting a ride is of all and he had fallen silent at the sight and lack of sensation in his arm.
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"I'm afraid there's nothing I could do."
"Nothing? Money is of no object." The healer wasn't convinced.
"Although I hardly believe you, this is still beyond my talent." The middle aged man took the limp arm and moved it around in something of awe.
"It's still remarkable. It seems all your muscles have been restored, nerves attached, and even the bone is strong and healthy. This is the work of a professional." A stoic harsh face was on the face of the bearded healer as he glared down for an answer.

"The work of a healer I had met along the way." David had gotten the name, Eolon from the man, but was less then apt to let go of that information. The deadman argument wasn't something he wanted to get into now. "He said I'd have to see a Master to get this fixed and I assume if you were one, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
The healer nodded, unfettered by the rude attitude of the shepherd who didn't even bother to look at him as he talked, knowing the way the injured had often acted.
"We're a small town so we never need the skill of a master healer." He patted the shepherd's shoulder though to give the man some reassurance. "However, I'm positive there should be one in a city."

David thanked the healer not before asking him who were the richest people and the directions of a couple of shops, as well if he knew of Ûttorrba in the town.
"Ûttorrba?"
"Red skin, horns-"
"Ah, you mean those broods? There are a couple, though as much as I don't appreciate the violence, they're good for buisness. What's your buisness with 'em?"
"Just visiting an old friend."
The healer arched an eyebrow. "You have some odd friends, shepherd. Broods, the DMD-"
"I said nothing about the DMD.
"Didn't need to. eight sheep-
"Eleven sheep." David corrected.
"-Eleven sheep coming out of the deader's wagon is something hard to ignore but I guess it's none of my buisness."

David was surprised but he guessed the healer himself didn't want to get into the "dead-are-alive" argument either.
He was pretty helpful and seemed almost genuine happy to be of assistance. The shepherd had something akin to regret for leaving the healer and wanted to know his name but it was too late. He was already out the door and he'd look foolish if he turned back.

The shepherd looked down at Abe and the herd that surrounded him, petting the head of an ewe one moment, before starting to talk to Abe.
"You don't remember Sera, do you Abe?" He asked the dog, pausing for one moment to give the chance for him to talk, if he could, before continuing. "Of course you don't. You were probably still a pup somewhere."

David looked at the collie before using the hook of the crook to pull one of the sheep straying a bit closer. The rich didn't need much convincing. "They make fresh milk, great cheese, free wool, and plenty offspring for more!" That was the usual pitch and although the shepherd greatly doubted their ability to survive the harsh landscape of the desert, it didn't latter as long as he was payed and left to get his arm fixed the next day. After stocking up on some water and food, garnered a one-handed warhammer to accommodate for his broken arm, and he followed the directions of the healer to where the Brood lived.

A graveyard wasn't what the shepherd had in mind however. It was a quaint open space with small tombstones jutting out. David looked at the tombstones but there was nothing but a gibberish mess written in each one, despite so, he walked along the graves as Abe followed behind. Sera was a beautiful, deadly woman, one that he'd meet when he was younger with a stronger libido. Did anyone arrive for her service, she was as much a drifter as David, or was she just put in the hole? For the first time, David thought would there be anyone at his service to give him prayers or to speak their memory to pay their respects? Sera was supposed to be the friend, a couple of shepherds he barely knew perhaps, none of his associates from other towns surely.

What was the point of it all? Sure, there was what fun there was to be had in bars with foreign wenches and the money from milk, cheese, and wool were plenty enough to buy a house or two, but what good was there to be had? Only the countless bodies of creatures and more importantly, people who wanted that money. The people whom the shepherd attacked first to ensure the advantage if they were bandits. What fruit had he beared? Death? Murder? Spoiled, rotten fruit...or was it merely the tree that was bad? Was David doomed to be as such, an example not to follow.

The shepherd knelt down, and gathered the attention of the hyperactive dog that ran in circles, scratching behind his ears as he panted. "What do you think, Abe? Should I give up shepherding? Make a family? Be a merchant?" The collie merely turned his head at an angle, as if to say, why do you ask me? "Either way, I've got to do something about this." He grabbed his limp arm but couldn't fell his fingers grasping his numb forearm. "We can think about the future, after, right Abe?" Abe barked in reply and it wasn't long before he bought a couple of horses and a wagon. The plan was to sleep inside the empty wagon and drift to sleep of the sight to the stars against the black sky, drawing their shapes out with his index finger.

Then, everything fell silent. The spirits, of whom constantly spoke quietly or loudly, were silenced by it, and it being the presence a mortal being like David could feel. The sky opened it's maw and the shepherd watched as it moved ever so slowly, frozen in something pure to awe, and when he touched his face, they were stained with tears. Not out of sadness but of that same pure awe and that twinge of fear.

"IT'S COMING." The spirits spoke in a monolithic, collective voice, something they were never abject to do.

"KYNA-FAR IS COMING." And then they fell silent. Quiet was something that David had wished for years but yet, now that he had it, his blood was chillled and his thoughts were stilled as if there the tip of a knife had been put up to his mind.

Gods, it was a Monoloth.

The adrenaline had suddenly kicked in as David suddenly heard the citizens of the town screaming and panicking as they rushed to stampede the way out, trampling others too slow to keep up as they did so. The shepherd moved from the back of the wagon to the front, took the reigns of both horses in one hand, and gave one violent stir so the horses would start with a gallop through the town. Anyone who was in the way were either one of two things, pushed aside if lucky, or run over, and by every small jump the wagon made, one can only imagine the bodies. Just as the wagon reached the inn, the horses got spooked by the sudden influx of people other wagons and horses blocking it's path, standing on their hind legs at the crowds of people coming forth from the inn. Everyone was trying to find a way out, some jumping onto the horses of other riders before being thrown back while others would welcome the aid, most resorting to running on foot, save for the few that merely stood in place and looked up at the sky, as if a God was gonna emerge before them.

Maybe they were right.

'David tried desperately to calm the horses, whispering in a low voice while stroking their manes. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the deadwoman warrior who had saved him, but she was busy in her own affairs and this was possibly the worst time for exchanging pleasantries. He went back to trying to calm the horse as he could hear pattering in the back of his wagon, and he turned to see men, women, and couple of children make themselves all the more home.

The shepherd thought to berate them and throw them out, but such an act would be considered too long and arduous, time better spent trying to soothe the horses and flee. He held his tongue, knowing they were just trying to leave a well, and kept his hand on the reigns, as difficult as it was to do so with one hand, trying his best to calm the horses with soothing foreign words as more people jumped into the back in hopes of leaving quicker.

Kryssis angled the blade, catching the failing light of the sun and the eerie, otherworldly glow cast by the Monolith's rotating gears. The steel shone, and the blood glistened. Without a thought, she wiped it clean on the fur pelt hanging from her waist, tossed the dagger up so that she caught it by the flat of the blade and handed it back to its owner. She then picked Alexa up and helped her back onto her horse, choosing to remain on the ground personally. She patted the animal on the neck as she walked by it, whispering, "Chevalier," as she passed his ear. He snorted, almost as if in response, and Kryssis huffed right back. Nodding to Alexa, Kryssis walked over to where Nimba stood beside Adrian. She was cleaning her hands off with conjured water, the blood proving especially stubborn, still staining her palms and fingers.

"I owe you a tremendous debt for saving my.. friend," the word came to her lips a little embarrassingly. "I was honestly convinced she would not survive her injury." She stepped a little closer and bowed her head slightly, her curtain of hair falling over her shoulder. "I never gave you my name, before. I figure this is as good a reason as any for me to change that decision. I am Kryssis Wyvernjack. I am glad to have made your acquaintance. Otherwise, Alexa," she jerked her head back toward the girl seated on her horse, "Probably would not be breathing right now."

Nimba flicked her hands, sending water falling to the sand beneath her feet. Even in the encroaching chill of the night, the moisture was soaked up by the dry ground faster than she could even be brought to blink. It looked like her hands would be stained for a little while, but it didn't necessarily bother her all that much. A little blood was never something she'd bee afraid of. She shrugged and took her staff out from the crook of her arm where she'd been holding it, "No problem. Hey, even if we hadn't met ya in that bar back in Gaudis, still woulda helped you out. Just.. common decency I s'pose. Well," she nudged Adrian with her elbow and grinned, "He might have said that both of you be damned, but that's just 'cause he's like a monster, this one. Wey'ho da fus." She snickered and walked over to the horse they absconded with, "Y'know, at least we've got something to ride while we're out here, Adrian. Better than walking. He's a really pretty one, too," she commented in a mock, girlish tone as she stroked the stallion's neck. He seemed agitated, and kept dragging his left forward hoof across the sand. It looked like he wanted to get out of there as quickly as he could, and she was not about to blame him. She glanced at the Monolith, feeling her stomach twist at the sight. "Kyna-Far," she murmured, breathing the name curiously. It sent a shiver down her spine. It felt familiar, though. Like.. she knew it- just some long-lost friend she'd forgotten about from her childhood. It unnerved her to no end, "When about we gettin' away from this thing, yeah?"

---

Alexa Morrow

---

She sheathed her knife after Kryssis returned it, it was an extension of herself, and she was glad to have it back. Chevalier was happy to have Alexa back to normal health and on his back, he may have just been a horse, but he was very smart. Alexa patted his neck and brushed her hand through his mane as she kept one hand on the horn of the saddle for support. To have Kryssis call Alexa her friend felt good, no, more than good, it felt great. This circumstance was so similar to her and Zoya, yet for some reason, Alexa was much more interested in Kryssis... Granted, if Zoya was holding her she still would have asked for a kiss before death, it wasn't Kryssis herself, but that someone she cared for was there in the end. A kiss would be a fine way to part the world, a kiss would be perfect. But that was beside the point, she wasn't going to die that day. Well, if they remained near the ungodly geared... thing... that might not have been true. Sighing, she looked at the white-haired girl. Without showing much emotion in her face, she spoke, "Before we go, can someone explain what in Tyr's name that gods damned thing is, and why it burrowed into my mind?"

Alexa had no story tellers to speak of monoliths, at least that she could remember, most of her childhood before leaving was a blur... And after that she lived on the streets, where eating was significantly more important than reading. She didn't even learn to read until she met Zoya, Alistair never bothering teaching her such an "unimportant skill" as he put it.

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?"

Nimba scoffed, "Whenever it is somebody figures out why it does what it does, I'll let you know." She leaned against her staff for support, looking out at the Monolith and shaking her head, "It's called a Monolith. Damned things have nearly godlike power. No one knows what they really are, or what they want. They just sort of float around and appear at random places. Sometimes they remove those locations if they feel like it. Gods know why, they just do as far as we can tell." She bit her lower lip in thought for a moment, recalling the voices she'd been assaulted by.. the same voices that now beckoned her from far off, pleading her to return into their care. "Seems like a lot of people had reactions like yours. Maybe not so.. violent, but close enough. Monoliths have been known to affect people in exactly that way. Like I said: nobody knows how come." The ground quaked suddenly- pulsating notes pounded through the air, lower and lower. Nimba clenched her teeth and held her head in her hands. Every bone in her body ached, the tones were so deep. When they'd passed, it felt like she was buzzing all over. She shook off the discomfort and sighed, "Am I the only one who's taking that as its way of saying: 'Get out now, while you still can'?"

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Alexa Morrow

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The sound, the gods damned sound came again... it was worse than before, it burrowed into her mind, showing her images she didn't want to see, all she saw was her father with a large chuck of his throat missing, like it had been bit out by someone. She watched it as the sound continued, when it was over, she returned to reality. Without knowing it she had half-unsheathed her dagger, to what point, she was unsure. She returned it to its scabbard and looked at the white-haired girl, whose name she still hadn't asked. She scowled a bit as she spoke, "I believe it has no real purpose... it is a thing of change, a thing of magic, a thing of the gods. Do not question it's motives, for it has none other than chaos, change. it has no reason in its actions, it burrows into minds and toys with small creatures, for we are small in comparison to it. It's monstrous abilities. We must leave, now. All those remaining are forfeit." She hated to say it, but it was fact. Plus, she was terrified of the monolith. The images it showed, it burrowed into her mind without her permission and played with her, played with her like a cat playing with a mouse that it already had within its grasp. She felt powerless in its presence. She looked at Kryssis, feeling safe once more. But the looming monstrosity was still there. She sighed then continued, "As much as I would like to go and save those worthy of it..." she meant the street urchins, "We need to leave, I cannot imagine what would occur if we remained... or got closer than we already are, as its influence is too powerful..."

"He's locked up at DMD headquarters," Trista answered the mage, watching as he helped the enforcer up onto his horse, "or at least he should be. I can’t say for sure where everyone is now, but it’s very likely that the enforcers have left him there and taken off. If you were planning on busting him out, you’d better do it fast. And that’s if he’s still there and hasn’t crashed himself out a new entrance already.” Her attention briefly drifted back to the Monolith. The massive thing bellowed, the ear shattering horns repeating in succession again. She took an involuntary step back at the sudden noise, her hand instinctively shooting to the hilt of her sword. This was no time to be jumpy; she needed to get herself out, and quick. She turned back to Eolan and nodded.

Kryssis nodded, turning and heading back toward Alexa and Chevalier, "She's right. There's no way to know how far the Monolith's blast could reach if something provokes it- or if it decides it does not like the city." She was nearly to the horse when a cold, dreadful voice smashed through her world. She could feel hands slithering over her body and into her ears, curling around her brain, spine and arms. Caressing her; freezing her.

"Look at it, Kryssis," it said. Obeying, as if in a trance, she turned around slowly until her eyes settled on the floating entity. A deep rumbling permeated the world, one she had a feeling only her ears could catch. It approached her- rocketing across the sand- and when it slammed home the world exploded; torn away like shreds of paper. Her body fell to the sand- limp and unfeeling. Nimba rushed to her side and turned her over, feeling her pulse. She was perplexed.. nothing seemed wrong. The white-haired mage shot a glance at the Monolith, figuring it had something to do with her sudden collapse.

To Kryssis, however, she was still standing. The strips of reality were sucked away, their colors bleeding into black and white before they disappeared into a deep, dark void. A presence curled around her, quaking the universe with its immensity. The very movements of this being caused the stars to quiver in their holds, and planets to fall from their nests in the firmament. It seemed to suck in a breath- the sound a long, low grind like stone being drug over stone. Then the Ancestor spoke, "Let me save you, Kryssis," something brushed across her cheek and wound through her hair, snaking around her neck and lightly- almost mockingly- constricting. "You don't know what comes through the clouds before you. You've perceived its power, but hardly its nature. Come." A light appeared at her feet, and she looked down with a start: she was floating above the Monolith, hovering over its massive body- the great stone and the rolling gears. It was even more impressive from this vantage point. "I know these wanderers well. I was with them at their dawning- I witnessed their construction. I know their secrets, their names- all of them. There are many, many things of which I am aware that you can not even begin to understand, Kryssis."

Kryssis snorted, "I do not care about what I know - other than not knowing you, of course," she spat, her tone biting. The Ancestor made a noise that sounded like hissing, and the scene under her feet was washed away. She gasped, the enormity of the spirit pressing down atop her- like a range of mountains being ground into a grain of sand.

"I do not offer my charity just to be insulted!" The Ancestor barked. Kryssis cried out, extending a hand out in front of her- fingers reaching as if to find something with which to pull herself out from under the great god's weight. "You've no idea what horror lies at the end of the road you mortals walk, do you?! Only I can save you from that end! Why do you not heed my warnings; accept my protection? You! Are! My! Daughter! Surrender to the darkness, Kryssis! Take my hand before it is too late!"

Kryssis screamed in fury, shouting, "No! I am not yours any longer!" The Ancestor grunted in disgust. She felt like she was lifted and tossed away from it; trash being thrown out from its titanic presence. She fell back into her body, coughing as she came to on the sand, shaking her head and lifting herself up immediately- not bothering with getting her bearings. She didn't care, she was away from that thing, what else could matter. Well.. other than possibly the Monolith. She sighed and looked around, "W-We can't wait f-for other survivors. Doing s-so risks our own selves," her words were slurred and slightly distorted. Her head felt a little hazy after than run-in.

In the darkness below the divisions barracks, the armored giant sat quietly. His thoughts drifting back to the strange man he had met earlier that day. And more importantly to what he had said.

Randy

No one in the entirety of the world knew of that names significances to him. In his silent contemplation he clutched the massive blade at his side closer. Hugging it and seeking it's comforting presence at his side as he drifted off to sleep. For how long he slumbered, he didn't know. But he awoke to the sound of screaming.

He jolted back to consciousness s the world around him shook as though it were being torn apart. lights danced across his vision and a searing heat washed over him. Hands. Hands attached to spectral creatures that were simultaneously freezing to the touch, yet burning at the feel. They seeped through the walls, ceiling and floors. They grabbed at him, pulling and tearing.

No. Not at him. At the sword in his hands.

"WEEEeeeE!" Hissed a voice. It was all around him, both a choir yet a single sound. "We existed looOOoong before." The specter's hands latched onto the blade. The voices grew. Like nails grinding and pounding into his ears. "YOU. Child of the IMPUDENT ONE. You have no plaaaAaace among usssss." They pulled and pulled with such force, nearly wrenching the sword from his grip and he himself off the ground.

The screaming. He heard it again. Like child crying in fear and shrieking in pain.

He felt as though his blood was boiling from the rage. How dare they. HOW DARE THEY! The runes carved into his flesh went neon bright in their dark brilliance, drowning out all the other lights in the holds with their blood red shine. He opened his mouth and let out a mighty roar so loud it could startle the dead.

BEGONE

Hatred. It burned inside of him with a fury he never experienced before. It exuded out of him like fiery waves. So strong was the force of concentrated hatred that the chains that bound him cracked and withered to dust. The hands retreated, cowed by the overwhelming presence.

And the giant fell back into the Darkness. No, not fell. He was pulled into it.

Run

The giant stood. Staggering in confusion and surrounded by the inky black void.

Run

He perked his head up as he heard a new voice in his head.

Run

He knew that voice.

RUN! RUN YOU FOOL RUN!

He obeyed. He ran. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He ran as though the hounds of hell were chasing him. He ran, for the first time in a long time, with an unabashed, abject, terror clutching his heart.

RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN

And then the inky black darkness was gone, and he was standing in the streets in front of the division barracks. Wasn't his cell locked? Hadn't he been below ground? It was as if he had taken one step in the void, and then another back out into the world above.

He didn't have time to ponder this. An unholy sound echoed above him. He looked up to see the monolith towering high in the sky. It was only then that he noticed the chaos around him. The shouting. The screams. The rush of moving forms and flailing bodies. And once again he was told...

Run

And so he did. But from what he couldn't say.

When the warrior woman - Kryssis – collapsed, Adrian assumed it had something to do with the Monolith's power. Really, it only confirmed his thoughts that they needed to get the hell away from the floating entity as fast as possible. The thing was practically yelling at them to leave its presence before it decided it didn't like the shape of the local landscape that much and wanted to do some redecorating. And really, why would anyone deny a request, even a perceived one, from a Monolith? Why did he even stop to help the two other women then if circumstances dictated flight? As much as he hated to admit it sometimes, as much as he liked to deny it - Adrian, when the chips were down, did what was right.

Before he could say a word or move to help at all the ground began to shake violently. Narrowing his eyes at the awesome visage of the Monolith, automatically assuming it was the thing's doing, but after a moment he realized it was not the steady pulsating, almost rhythmic vibrations that seemed common with the entity. No, this rumbling was chaotic and aggressive. What's more, the Monolith was quiet, sitting there amongst the unearthly silence that prevailed between it's songs.

Whatever was causing these new tremors was big, and it was angry.

And it was getting closer.

---

Alexa Morrow

---

The monolith was silent, thankfully. Not making noise and poisoning Alexa's mind any longer. She wasn't sure of what to say, as she had said her peace already. They all knew they needed to leave, no matter what Alexa could say beyond that. She was calmly waiting for the others when Kryssis collapsed. Her heart sank in her chest as she tried to get off the horse, her legs not allowing her to. Words didn't leave her mouth as it opened, she wanted to go and help her, but couldn't. She couldn't even speak, having no voice as the sound permeated into the area. She got up soon after, and sounded wrong, she sounded scared. Alexa felt terrible, she didn't want to see Kryssis like this, and she doubted Kryssis wanted others to see her like it either. She rode next to Kryssis with Chevalier and let out her hand, speaking in as strong a tone as she could manage in her current state, "Let's go. Now."

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.

Kryssis paused for a moment, looking at Alexa's outreached hand. Something in this reeked of weakness. Her weakness. She'd apparently fallen when the Ancestor had decided to show her to Monolith from up high, and now with the way she was talking and moving.. it was a natural assumption. That did not, by any means, make it better. Now was not the time to complain, though. Nor was Alexa the one to make a fuss over it to. So, she swallowed her pride, and with it some of her heart it felt like. Taking the girl's hand firmly, Kryssis lifted herself onto Chevalier's back, seating herself behind Alexa and wrapping an arm around her waist to keep steady atop the horse. She made careful not to press down too hard on Alexa's abdomen, even with the wound being healed - just an unconscious politeness. Looking back down at Gaudis, she spied a figure moving in their direction and narrowed her eyes accordingly, pointing down at the moving shadow in the night, "Someone's coming. Seems we're not to be the only survivors, apparently." Just as the words left her mouth, she felt a trembling in the earth. The ground quaked violently, and the horses whinnied- bucking in fear as something huge approached, causing a terrible tremor underneath the sand. "Allow me to rephrase!" She yelled in addendum, "Something is coming!"

Just as David had gotten the horses to calm down, a couple of figures climbed their way onto the front of the wagon, one an older man of perhaps 50 with his hair greying and balding, the other a muscled 20 something with short hair. Now that he thought about it, they seemed to be father and son, thinking to take the wagon as their own. They charged the one-armed shepherd unexpectedly, one on each side as David was about to move the wagon. The father thought to put David in a masterlock, lifting up his right arm, but the sleeve where the shepherd's arm would have been was empty, the limp arm tucked inside his robes, the lock now useless as the younger attacker reared back his arm for a wild punch.

His fist went straight into the face of his old man, breaking his nose and teeth with a vicious crack as David ducked low and bobbed back up with a punch below the belt of the son. The old man held his broken face in his hands, his screams muffled as he stepped back while the son doubled over and the shepherd with the reigns still wrapped wrapped around his arm made the horses go with a start. The sudden movement of the wagon caused the two men to lose their footing and fall as the wagon slowly yet surely sped up to that of a gallop out of town, weighed down by whoever-else jumped in the back while they had the chance.

The reigns dug in the shepherd's arm and his fingers ached at every movement of the horse yet he still held onto the reigns for every sound that bellowed from the monolith. David could feel it's hot glare on his back like the embers among ash that sprung forth from its eyes. When he looked forward and not to his own feet, he could see the giant that reduced him to his one arm, and the mage that kept him from bleeding out from that same wound.

The time for dialogue wasn't then and the shepherd kept his eyes straight ahead as he passed them when they stopped, galloping with the red-stained wheels of the wagon beyond the gate, towards the silhouetted figures ahead. A target that wasn't the endless sand horizon and a direction farther from whatever horrors would land on Gaudis.

It was then, that David could feel the tremors underneath the ground, and instantly his head reared back to the monolith in the crippling fear that it was touched the earth but yet it remained, still watching from above. In the longest time since he was a child, his lips let loose to a voiceless prayer, half of the words forgotten but that desperate and helpless feeling in his heart as he prayed to the goddess Tyr. She was the goddess that his family prayed to, though for the life of the shepherd at his young age, he didn't know why. Tyr was a goddess of protection and for what he lived, there was no ill will towards the farm, no marauders razing the lands, no threat of their lives. The boy just thought it to be a waste for Tyr to be looking after a family that didn't need the protection instead of helping those who needed it. His first idea was to counter-pray his family for Tyr to look after others but he was beaten by their sheer number. Then another idea came to mind. He'd hide the replica statue of the goddess that the family used to pray.

The replica of Tyr was a copper green, the most expensive thing in the house, which did well to show the goddess's prominent and...womanly features. David hid the small statue under the floorboards of the house, where it wouldn't ever be seen again, hoping Tyr would help someone else. After he seperated from home and became stronger, he hadn't the need to pray to any such gods, always having the confidence in himself.

And yet now...crippled and running away from this supernatural power, the regret ran deep, and now, all he can hope for was that Gods can forgive and intervene.

Had it really come? The time to finally take matters—real matters, not just barked orders—into her own hands? Trista glanced around with narrowed eyes and saw chaos, the chaos in which she would form true structure within herself. Her fingers gripped tightly around the hilt of her sword, civilians rushing and bumping past her from behind in panic. The steady pulses had turned into thunderous vibrations as the earth beneath them shuddered in the Monolith’s wake. Her fear had all but vanished and she found herself walking with a calm stride. About to unbind the last horse at the northeastern stables, she felt a shadow creeping up from behind her. Trista did not turn around.

“I’m taking this horse,” she said, a gloved hand resting on its back. The steed shivered and brushed its hooves against the ground, anxious to leave at once.

“I don’t think you are,” the voice returned. “Deadmen hold no rights here. It is your duty to assist me and judging by your insolent tone, you seem to be thinking of doing no such thing.”

“The DMD is dissolved,” Trista said quietly, turning her head in his direction. There was a cold glint in her eyes, not unlike the expression she wore when confronting the beasts of the desert. A bitter frown marred her lips and her brows furrowed. “I have no obligation to ensure your safety.”

The man’s face paled into one of shock, his body frozen at her remark. It didn’t last for long however, as he recollected himself and shook his head, sighing. It was clear by the way he presented himself that he was an enforcer, just as it was clear that he was not above taking the mount by force from her. If she recalled correctly, this was Enforcer Vance, a high ranking soldier that accompanied the elite Deadmen. He was nothing to joke about.

“You’re talking pretty big for a corpse,” he spat. “You that eager to die again?”

Trista flexed her left hand, exercising the digits. Seems they’d recovered now. No need to hold back any more. She unsheathed her sword and lashed out in a single motion, a lightning fast blur in his eyes. Of course, things were never this easy. Had he been a mere bandit it would’ve ended with that one strike, but this was an enforcer, not to mention one who was prepared to fight to the death. Her sword was knocked away by his own; it curved back for a retaliating strike, cleaving heavily into her armor and splitting a diagonal gash into her chest.

It didn’t stop there—she didn’t even have time to move by the time he’d followed it up, piercing his sword straight through her throat. She gripped the blade with her free hand, attempting to pull the sword out. He used the precious second she wasted in removing it to unsheathe a dagger from his belt, aiming straight between her eyes. Raising her arm just in time to block, the tip jut out from the other side of her wrist. She wrenched her hand away with enough force to fling the knife out of her arm and onto the floor, spinning across the cobbled ground.

With a silent fury, she lunged at him, hoping to catch him in the heart. Her weapon hit nothing but air, the enforcer having easily sidestepped it. Not only that, but he’d managed to spin around behind her, forcing her into a grapple that slammed her back first into the ground. Knowing that the enforcers were incredibly skilled did not help her in the slightest now that she was experiencing their power herself for the first time.

She rolled back and scrambled to her feet only to look up and see the sword swinging at her again. Her eye split apart and a massive chunk of her vision suddenly vanished. She kept her distance this time, watching his movements carefully. If she knew how to slay beasts, then he knew how to slay men. Had she been taking the wrong approach to this the whole time? Why was it that she could not gain the upper hand?

The Monolith’s roar sounded again to the point where it was deafening. The man turned his head to look, as did Trista. He slipped his bloody sword back into its scabbard, tossing her a sharp glance.

“I don’t have time for this,” he said, knowing exactly how exhausting and time consuming it could be to kill a Deadman, let alone one that was even marginally skilled. “Take the horse. I’m finding another way out of here.” He knelt down and picked up his dagger, hefting it in his hand. He shot another look at her. “For your sake and mine, I hope that we will not cross paths again.”

With that, Trista was riding off away from the city of Gaudis without another look back. She had never had such a one-sided battle in her experience as a Deadman, at least not where the opposing party was of manageable scale, unlike dragons or dune serpents. How was it that she—a warrior whose division excelled in overcoming insurmountable odds—could not defeat a mere human? Let alone one that possessed no magical abilities at all. There was no point in thinking about it now, but it was sure to bother her for months to come, if not years. She urged the horse to gallop faster.