MQ: Blood Red Blossoms 2 - The Reach of the Tower
-Closed to Kahlina(Rumplegrumblepuss), Lillian(Ataraxis), and Godhand-
Xem'Zund's contingent sat a mere quarter mile from the Obsidian Tower. While there were a mere hundred undead soldiers that came, there were three commanders to lead them, and three commanders to disagree about what to do about the warriors in the tower.
"Three heroes are nothing. We should pass by and continue towards the place our Lord expects us to be." An impatient woman's voice was the loudest of the three. She wasn't beautiful, but her presence commanded attention nonetheless. A squared face and jaw were well for the rest of her. Her shoulders were too wide, her chest too flat. Were it not for the long lashes and full lips, the delicate curve of her hips and the way she wore long, curled tresses in braids that were threaded through with jewels, she would have been nearly manly. She wore the dress of the Bladesinger's Guild and the right side of her face was scarred from the bottom of her chin to her spired ear, where the cartilage of the edge had been split. Red hues cast her pale skin with the setting sun falling across the red foliage above them. Her blue eyes were the color of glaciers, her aura just as cold. They kept moving towards the sunset, where the fiery orb would fall below the horizon within the hour. When she looked at the next speaker, it was clear that if looks could kill, he would be her first victim.
"The mahsster would want all to fall into hiss glory," the quiet voice said. There were hissing qualities about it, as if it were a serpent's tongue that spoke. He was a ragged thing, a jigsaw puzzle where none of the pieces quite fit right. He hunched over, his legs strong and stubby like a dwarf's, his arms long and spindly. The elbows were on the same level as his knees, and the hunched form didn't help much. He never walked, but seemed to crawl along, his eyes wide. He had no way of seeing straight forward. Instead his right blue eye was frozen in an upward direction, the brown left one swirling madly to make up for it. "Idril MÃ*riel, I will tell him tha you ssay 'passss by, they are nothing to tha mahsster.' And he will punissshoo for dissobeying."
The tension was enough to be cut with a knife, and Idril moved forward as if she would slap the wretched thing. Her hand was stopped short by a strong, gloved fist. She looked over, cold fire in her eyes at the third, though the rage was soon replaced by revulsion. It was uncertain just when Braeden Devondre had died, but he'd been something other than just a mere corpse when Xem'Zund had laid his will upon him. He carried a form now, of a tall man - nearly eight feet - with hands and feet that seemed to be large even on his enormous frame. He was built like a behemoth, and the charcoal gray skin that was more like moving ash than any real pigmentation only made him seem more frightening. His eyes were blank, mere whites as if they'd rolled up into his head and decided to stay there. His teeth were sharp as broken glass, stained brown. His breath was like the opening of a crypt too long sealed, and his words were firm.
"We wait here and when the sun sets, we will march. All will fall into the path of Xem'Zund. Be they three or three hundred, they will see the dawn as one of the horde." Neither of his comrades argued against it.
The sequel is never as good as the original
What a Goddamn disaster. He had that guy, Kross, he had him. One bullet to the brainstem was all it would have taken and it would have been over. But dumb fucking luck, his gun jammed. It was the Red Forest. Maybe even Raiaera itself. It had just as much resentment for the elves as the necromancer did, it seemed. So now, with Skie getting flown off by the turncoat and surrounded by lethal flora and fauna, they had to also deal with a horde of incoming zombies. The only thing going for them in that God forsaken hellhole was the tower, and that wouldn't last long. The mercenary was good, damn good if he said so himself, but he couldn't handle that many undead. There had to be hundreds, maybe thousands. No way on his own, but with these kids slowing him down? No chance at all. That, plus his ribs. They'd gotten pretty banged up in the fight with the zombie broad. Any fighter will tell you that a rib is probably the worst place to get an injury. I mean you can fight on if one of your arms is broken, use the other arm, you know? But if someone manages to get to your ribs, they basically shut you down. Big chest pains and you couldn't breathe to save your life. A warrior's worst nightmare. Without your air, you were nothing.
Lillian, the kid, she'd done something. Godhand couldn't say what, but it had done the trick. I mean it still hurt like Hell, but he could breathe, and that was all he needed. Plus, I don't know...It was getting better. The librarian's magic worked even now, despite her unconscious state. Damn impressive, and she may have just saved them all.
Godhand recoiled when Kahlina saluted him. That was new. Then again, with Kross and their de facto leader Skie gone, it was only natural that they look to whoever made the strongest showing in the previous battle. And since Lillian was sleeping it off, that meant it fell to the mercenary. He ran a hand through his greying hair and drew in a ragged breath, considering their situation. The kids around the room were looking at him like he was some sort of messiah. The girls especially, looking at him with those big doe eyes. Save us, Godhand, save us! If it'd been three months ago and they were in Eluriand, these broads wouldn't have given him the sweat off their tits if he was dying of thirst. And, even though it was something of a weird segue, he had an idea. The mercenary walked hurriedly down the stairs to where Kahlina and the elf kid was. He had more guts than the rest of 'em, anyway. He clasped the boy on the shoulder as he passed; nothing needed to be said. Godhand walked up to the threads Kahlina had placed and with one swift movement pulled them all of. He ignored the girl's white-hot, incredulous glare when he placed the bundle of magical silk in her hands.
"Put these on the windows in the second floor. I'll handle this."
They were lucky. The double doors of the Obsidian Spire were the kind you had to push to open if you were outside. If they had been any other kind then his plan wouldn't have worked and they'd have been doomed. He pulled them open and walked out into the Red Forest, proud to have found a use for the plant life that had been so problematic before. The swordsman looked at the large tree he had climbed to Frog Splash Cydonia. It was an ancient looking oak, about thirty feet tall and five feet wide. It was perfect.
The titan placed his shoulder against the trunk and with one measured thrust, uprooted the enormous thing. It lurched forward sickeningly, but the fall itself was rather slow given that the base was so large. Godhand walked to the end and wrapped his arms around the top of it, effectively strangling off the section with most of the branches. Pleased with himself, Goddamn this was a good plan, he pushed the tremendous tree past the double doors, the last few branches getting snapped off at the entryway. Into the main hall as far as it could go before one end hit the wall. It fit perfectly, giving them just enough room to close the doors again. Once that was done, he pushed the rooted base against the doors, effectively barring them. No way in Hell they'd get through that.