The Walled Capital

Mengsk grinned as he carefully watched a silhouette moving about through the frigid defense. He and Shyra had much that required consolidating. As the crystal wall surrounding the odd pair fell the Blade warrior backed against Mia, covering her flank. Instead of the familiar Dark Elf As he had hoped Mengsk confronted Valkarie's shadow. They obviously exchanged approaches quickly in the time the two parties were separated. However the battle was set and the Blademaster opened extravagantly; at his whim thirsting flame flooded the street before him, scorching the walls of solid the buildings nearby. Yet the veteran knew that this would not serve to conquer even a shade of the great being.


Shyra was serving much more elusive then her mirror image ally. As the ice wall fell away she was nowhere to be seen, skulking the dark recesses of some over hangs. The elven like woman was not avoiding the action. At her summoning shadows were drawn from doorways, overhangs and corners compounding into the shapes of Shadowfiends, namely an Tomahawk and Masqueraider. Both specimens were small examples for only so little could be coalesced into their forms. The beings charged Mia with miscellaneous weapons grasped in their bestial digits.

Black smoke.

In all the stories, in all the myths, black smoke always symbolized evil, hatred, a singular distaste for all things living. Black smoke would rise above burning forests, destroyed cities, even villains, if they were evil enough. And almost always, black smoke meant death.

And now, black smoke encircled Marlan’s vision as he regained consciousness.

He was staring up at the ceiling of the Josun Smithy, vision still cloudy, but clearing. The old smith could hear fighting outside; the sharp clang of swords meeting, the bestial snarls of Minnows lunging at some unknown opponent, and the slow, labored breathing of his own lungs.

As Marlan’s consciousness returned, he could also hear shuffling near him, a soft clinking of armor, and another man’s breathing. A hand slid between his back and the floor, and lifted him up to a sitting position. And there was Markus, face black with soot, taking stock of his father.

Markus was saying something, as evidenced by his rapidly moving mouth, but the ringing in Marlan’s ears drowned out his voice, as did the commotion from outside.

And then, Marlan felt it. A sharp stinging in his side, a dull ache in his ribs. He couldn’t move too much, or is body would scream in protest.

Marlan’s vision once again clouded, and his head felt like it was being hammered, as if it was one of the swords Marlan had made in his many years. He suddenly felt a pang of sorrow for those poor pieces of metal, just before his vision went black.



Time was running out.

Markus’s father had passed out again, and the fighting outside was growing more intense. They had to get out of the forge, and into the Mid-City. Perhaps they could find some refuge there, some safety from the oncoming Horde. Hefting his father over his shoulder – not an easy task, considering Marlan was wearing massive plate armor – Markus slowly staggered out of the forge, and into the fighting around them.

And there was their friend, the Recoilless, waiting for them to appear.

Oh, bugger.

All around the beast, smaller hordelings swarmed, ready to strike. Dozens, perhaps a hundred, all turned in unison and roared, bellowed, and otherwise screamed at the two smiths.

And Markus ran.

The hordelings roared once more and followed, nipping and biting at Markus’s feet. The young man didn’t even plan his retreat. He just ran from alleyway to alleyway, the only three things on his mind being his father, their escape, and the monster in pursuit eager to end both.

[As Xanth]

As Valkarie and I passed each other, I could swear, that in my elegant descent and inability to notice his departure, our eyes met for the first time in nearly a thousand years. Time stood still for moment as the man I once referred to as 'Friend' glided past me. Seeing him this way, ravaged by time and corruption, I couldn't help but pity him.

The reality of the situation came up upon me as I looked down at my contact: A mirror image of Valkarie's god form. Grinning from ear to ear, I instantly knew what he was up to. Gerared was never one to deal with subordinates. This was my chance to have a pleasant entrance, and a great way to display my power. Holding my hands out to my sides, an intense blue energy poured out of my palms. With my eyes shut, I shifted my body now so that my feet pointed at the clone. Whispering a few secret words to myself, I bent my knees and the outland of a mechanical looking great sword materialized in my hands.

Then it happened all so quickly. I abruptly crashed onto the armored back of the clone, impaling it with my sword as I came down. The clones appendages gave out and moved with my contact into it, slamming into the beige cobblestone below it, creating a huge crater that sent up plumes of dirt and debris. The Valkarie clone could not speak without his master controlling his mouth, all it did was writhe and scream below me.

"Silence yourself demon," I whispered so lightly that only a few would be able to make it out, "Your salvation has come."

I stood up quickly and back flipped off of the clone, leaving my blade in it's back. The clone regained it's footing quickly and inhumanly turned around to counter my landing. I slowed my descent just moments before being caught in it's monstrous maw. With the force of a thousand tons, I forced the gravity around me and slammed my foot onto the demons head plate, smashing him into the ground once more.

Stepping off of it's helmet, I pull my hand back. Grinning once more, I put as much force into my fist and punched the clone in it's left eye, crushing his helmet and puncturing it's eye. The inertia behind my attack sent the clone reeling in pain. But I was not done. This is beneath someone of my rank. This beast will lay beaten and broken when I'm done with it.

The mirror image stood back up and roared again. It attempted to swipe at me with it's left claw, which I back handed away from my person, vast amounts of mana exploding out of my fist as our digits made contact. The clone flapped it's wings and attempted to get some ground above me, but I didn't give him the chance. I launched myself up to his head, going over him but not without placing my fingers under the sides of his mouth. The beast screeching one last time, I pulled his neck behind him, forcing the clones body to twist with me. With the momentum of a metronome, I flip the clone around and slam him onto his underside, crashing into a nearby condominium.

I did this all without even breaking a sweat. This... abomination didn't deserve to be in my graces.

"Get up." I firmly ordered it, "Get up and face me you harpy." This time I didn't say it without a warning. I threw my arms out and sent a dual lightning strike at it's broken body.

"GET. UP." I said one final time before I would tear it's false wings apart from it's body.

Deren had watched as the two in the strange armor came out of the forge. One of them was carrying the other on his shoulder. Savage delight filled him as he saw the man turn and run towards the Mid-City. The monsters around him roared and charged after him, led by Deren himself.

Deren could smell the fear and pain, the anger and death. Dark Magic swirled around the Recoiless as he ran through the alleyways after the men, towards the Mid-City.

I charged once more at the mirror image until an unnatural gust of powerful winds caught me off guard and sent me to the ground. Catching myself on my hands, I looked toward the mid city to where a pillar or blue fire erupted upwards. The only person I knew who could produce such a magical flame was Valkarie, and he wasn't even a person anymore. But to combine the flame with a storm like this in the middle of the summer... No. Impossible. I stood back up and attempted to hold myself in the winds, but failed to do so as the debris on the ground began to move on their own, following the wind. I spun around and looked back at the Horde who encircled the Mid Wall as they fell just as I did and flew back out into the field.

Then something happened that made my world spin. The Outer Wall was rebuilding itself!

THIS was definitely not just magic at work. This was power beyond anyone of this time could possibly wield. Aleksander had once done something like this... He had forced back an entire invasion force with an item... An object of extreme magical importance. What was it's..

THE EYE!

How could I forget that the King had possession of it? If Valkarie gets his hands on it... No! It won't! Not while I breathe!

I slammed my fists onto the ground and forced myself to get up in the storm. I got onto my communicator and ordered, "This is Admiral Xanth, your captain speaking! Fix ALL eighty eighty guns on Valkarie Voloshanz now and OPEN FIRE upon him. Saturate the area with the killer rounds boys!"

The, killer rounds, as I called them were actually Blixt Hallow Shells. Named after the inventor, who was a deacon, came up with the idea to fill artillery shells with pure light energy. The shells were the equivalent of concussive rounds in smaller arms. They will take the shields down on normal targets, but will wound the most dark.

As Xanth tore the Valkarie clone to pieces and mysterious storm winds echoed through the city, everything became calm for Mia, even in the midst of this chaos. She had pressed herself up against a house to brace herself from the wind. As she heard the booming voice summoning Valkarie to battle, she watched as the Hordlings Shyra had created were destroyed and Shyra herself was blown from the city. The Outer Wall had somehow rematerialized, stronger, prouder, and taller than before and the city was free of all Locust soldiers. So much was going on that Mia had no time to ponder how or why; whatever was going on at Castle Feign was beyond her limited comprehension of magic anyway. The pillar of flames shot into the air, the reason the winds had saved the city rather than destroy it, it was all too much. "I just wanted a damn fight," she thought. She looked around for Mengsk and heard Xanth yelling something into her communicator. In all this chaos, Mia felt nothing but calm, and maybe slight annoyance at being unable to fight with Shyra's creatures before the unwordly winds blew them away. Unable to move forward against the winds, Mia would wait until they subsided.

Just run.

Just run, Markus.

And run he did. As fast as his legs would carry him, Markus sprinted towards the Mid-City, relieved when he could finally see the massive wall in the distance. It wasn’t crawling with Hordelings, Markus discovered. The realization came with a heavy sigh of relief, and renewed vigor.

Then they haven’t breached it, yet. Thank the Light.

But the young smith still had four-dozen small problems nipping at his boots, eager to have a taste of man-steak. And a two-ton, magic-infused, man-driven Recoilless was at the head of the pack, just as eager to smash both men into oblivion.

It was times like these that Markus wished he had an ice-cold mug of root beer.

Then, something happened. A massive gust of wind blew inward, toward the Mid-City, followed by a column of wind bursting up from beyond the wall, perhaps somewhere in the Inner City or beyond. As the tornado dissipated, the shockwave reversed, slamming into Markus and his father, and eradicating the Hordelings right then and there.

Markus, sent sprawling, slammed back-first into a nearby building, the combined weight of him and his suit obliterating the concrete and blowing right through it. He landed face-first on the hard wooden floor, groaning. His nose had been broken, and a long gash now decorated is face.

I need a damned helmet.

Markus stood slowly, shaking off the dust from his armor. The winds still blew, but less forcefully now than the shockwave. He was able, through the same weight that had blown him clean into this building, to walk against the tempest into the streets, looking for his father.

A man-in-big-armor-sized hole could be seen in the wall of the next building over, and Markus slowly made his way over. Entering, he could see his father had landed in a heap of flourbags, and now sported a skin shade much lighter than usual. Chuckling to himself, Markus slumped and sat against the wall, near the hole, waiting for the winds to subside.

Mengsk stood back for a moment as Xanth descended upon the copy of Valkarie. Indeed his assistance was not required as the clone was decimated and he pivoted beside Mia, ready to help her defend against Shyra's attacks. He was not at all surprised to encounter Shadowfiends with no sign of the dark woman. Shyra had often been able to summon beings of darkness and they served pleasantly as distractions. Mengsk surveyed the corners and nuances of darkness around them, ever ready for an attack from behind. The Shadowmaiden often favoured emerging from the shadow behind her distracted victims and dispatching them the deadly Shadowglaive.

His searching was futile, for the moment Xanth crashed upon her assistance Shyra wrapped herself in shadow and fled. She appeared for a moment in the shadow a decent distance down the street. She could only control her destination if she could see it and so in short jumps she traversed her way further into the city. That was, before a torrent of wind locked her against a wall, unable to move.

Mengsk was also caught off guard by the sudden squall. His particular position meant he was not as sheltered from the storm then Mia was. He was pushed across, into Mia. Lucky he got his foot out quickly, widening his stance and allowing himself to control his rebelling balance once again. He turned to Mia, apologising. He could not move for fear of being swept off his own feet. Instead he sheathed his katana, confident that Shyra was caught in the same position they were. He studied Mia's face, she was clearly disappointed, as was he, although that he did not show.

The Recoiless was so close to the man in armor when the blast of air hit. It obliterated the Minions and Minnows, and threw the Recoiless through several houses. It finally came to rest in the forge, next to an anvil.

Deren guessed that he was one of few (if any) of the remaining army left in the city. Getting the Recoiless to its feet, Deren began to create portals, from which poured out hundreds of the horde. They swarmed around him, staying in the forge for the moment, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

Mengsk looked at Mia, eyes darkened. "I tire of this" he growled, an unusual tone coming from the man. "This irregular pace," He continued "shall keep us from the necromancers before nightfall, and such is a time of darkness against which we cannot prevail." He looked into the woman's eyes, his steadfast soul and strength shown in their fiery depths mirroring hers. A grin cracked his face "I go to fight Valkarie," He said, relishing the chance of battle "You are released from any compulsion I have placed on you. I only request that you join me in glory." His face shifted, revealing the man inside. A tired man, fraught with troubles and nightmares and willing to die for a Country he has never loved. With this change Mengsk turned and ran, towards the castle, welcoming the chance to die more then a wanderer.

Mia herself hadn't even planned on confronting, much less fighting Valkarie again. She was taken aback by the passion behind Mengsk's words and burning in his eyes. She paused a moment and watched him leave, then chased after him, quickly catching up. She had been invited after all.

As they arrived at the castle they saw Valkarie and another man locked in fierce combat. Valkarie easily glided away from the man's attacks, then released a terrible blast of dark energy. They watched as the beam of shadows that burst forth from his sword approached his opponent, filling the air with the taint of darkness and death, it's power seeming to warp the very fabric of existence as it flowed forward.

"This is going to be one hell of a battle."

[Posting as Judas]

After finding nearly a hundred people still in the city, I teleported them as far away from this city as I could. After the impact of that sudden storm nearly a third of them refused to leave the relative 'Safety' of their homes. "Choose me, or choose your pyre" Is what I said to them. A nice metaphor of either come with me, or be ready to burn. Brutal... But to save many more lives, it was a necessity.

Transporting what I'm sure what was the last of the citizens, I set out to find the others who were fighting that corrupted Recoiless. But it was a big city, and I was tired. I lack information. The radios and comm sites have gone completely silent. As far as I know, I could be the last person in the city.

Then something broke in me... A deep feeling of dread filled my soul. I looked up in the direction of the Castle. Seeing nothing, but feeling everything. I knew it the second the Horde broke the wall. The city was lost to us. To us all. May Evan have mercy on us all.

I couldn't stop now. I need to find everyone. I need save them before catastrophe strikes us all down.

Or I'll die trying.