MQ: Blood Red Blossoms 2 - The Reach of the Tower

[Skie and Avery]

As Tom escaped into the clutch of stone and strength, there were eyes upon him. Braedan's scouts had been watching him for some time, staying hidden as they could. However, when they had returned word to him that yet another had joined the small force defending the Tower, their master was apathetic. After all, everyone knew that they would fall soon.

When the army had at last come to a pause outside of the ancient stronghold, Braedan stepped forward. He watched the empty windows for some time, his eyes sliding across shadowed nooks and openings. Finally, he drew in a breath, and forced his voice loud and echoing through the empty forest.

"Come forward and give yourselves to the mercy of Xem'Zund and you shall see battle another day! Glory and Power are gifts the necromancer gives freely! Raiaera has fallen - will you follow her or rise above into the next morrow!?"

Stepping back, all the army strained to hear if there would be an answer from those they knew to be blockaded in the tower. Idril pursed her lips, glancing sideways to the other generals. She knew the answer, but still she had to ask, "Shall the archers fire if they show their faces?"

Subtly, Braedan nodded. Under the whisper of the wind, the creak of pulled bowstrings was no more audible than the creak of the cursed branches in Pode's forest.

[RumpleGrumblePuss]

Looking up the spiral of the staircase, I could only see to the next door before the staircase curved, blocking sight of anything further up. I wasted a long moment, tapping a foot and chewing on my lower lip, hesitating and thinking of the wisdom or foolishness of heading up to explore the Spire. My current companion did little to reassure me of my relative safety. The most Puppy would have done or could do is run screaming for help. What in the world is his name, anyway? I wondered, glancing back at the pale young man.

“Umm, what do I call you? I can’t keep calling you Puppy. Well, I could but that's a little demeaning… unless you’re into that kind of stuff and this most certainly is not the place or time for it.” I smiled slightly, just to show I was joking. I kind of hoped the fear-induced grey tone to his pallor would dissipate if I lightened up a little.

“Ki…Kiyeth Anamolei, that’s my name.” I shook my head at the gaze that darted about, reminding me of a rabbit trapped in a room with a wolf or three.

“Chill for a moment. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack if you don’t calm down, Ki. Can I call you Ki? Look, I’m going to keep heading up to check out what’s in the Spire and places that would be good for a defense. Undoubtedly, there are weapons or items that can be used as a weapon up there. If you want, you can go back and stay with the other students. With Lillian awake and Godhand there it should be safe for the time being.” A scrabbling noise echoed down the staircase and, for a moment, I cocked my head, frowning as I listened. A sneak attack?

Hugging the wall, I crept forward up to the room where the noise came from. The sound of furniture being moved and heavy breathing was enough to soothe my jumpy nerves. If they are breathing, then I guess it’s fine. I feel a little sorry for the poor bastard that was wandering through the forest. I held my breath and prayed that the door wouldn’t make a noise as I nudged it open just a crack. Thankfully it moved smoothly and silently as if it has been oiled just yesterday. That’s a little creepy.

My first glimpse of the person inside left me with a less than impressed impression. In fact the older man reminded me much of a used-car salesman. Shaking my head, I pulled the door shut and hurried up the stairs. The second set of footsteps behind me freaked me out for a moment.

“Decided to stick around, Ki?” I asked, trying to keep the heartbeat I felt in my throat from being audible in my voice. Frowning at the sheepish smile sent my way, I ignored Kiyeth and contuined past the room with the snake oil salesman. Behind me, Ki disappeared and reappeared as he checked the rooms I passed. By the time I reached the top of the Spire, he held a blade and had pressed another into my hand. I glanced at the pretty dagger; black crystals glittered prettily in old metal that badly needed a good polish. I’m better off with my whips, I know squat about using a sword. This room seems vaguely familiar…I think.

Dusty chairs ringed a table and on a dais, a pedestal rested. A dark patch marred the gleaming obsidian stone. Curious, and blaming my curiousity on the cat parts in me, I got within a few feet of it before I realized that is was blood, probably very old blood. Wrinkling my nose, I stepped away from the blood on the floor. The shouting from outside drew my attention. Cautious, but not foolish, I headed for the nearest window. Give ourselves up to Xem’zund? Yeeeah, I’ve always wanted to be a zombie. That’s what every little girl dreams of being.

“Here’s your answer to that proposition. Sit and spin!” I held a hand out the window in a one-fingered salute. Snorting in derisive amusement, I peeked out the window then promptly pulled back as an arrow struck the stone inches from my face.

“Goddamn son of a bitch.” I whispered to myself. “Go rot in hell you freaks! No one is coming out there.”

[Godhand]

"Goddamnit, quit being so fuckin' tacky! You're making the rest of us look bad! 'Sit and spin'. Jesus."

Jesus, just what kind of a grabass unit had he been railroaded into protecting? Most of these kids weren't even old enough to grow facial hair, and even his so-called comrade was nothing but a foul mouthed cretin and, he suspected, a dominatrix. And the rest of 'em? Hell...You had the kid from before, the one who tried to get in on ground zero of the zombie attack. He had balls but not much to back it up. The rest of them? Who the Hell were they? The only one in the tower besides Godhand that was worth her weight in, well, zombie meat was Lillian. She was still spent from taking down that Queen Demon though, so he certainly couldn't count on her to get them out of this jam.

Godhand walked up the stone stairs, supressing a smile when the cat woman barely managed to dodge an arrow. They'd gotten the kids to go up. As high as they could go. Treat the tower like a sinking ship, which was basically what it was. The idea was that whatever enemies that made it past the Godhand/Lillian meatgrinder would be too beat up to do any real damage. Still, the tower apparently held many treasures. It'd been protected from looting thanks to the extremely hostile flora that surrounded it, and that meant that it was still filled with useful items. It was as he was contemplating this that that girl from earlier, the "We're all sixteen!" kid came running down the stairs. She was a pretty girl; glasses and smock and everything. She reminded him of Lillian.

"Mr. Godhand, Mr. Godhand, come quick!"

"What can I do for you, sweetheart?"

"There's something you need to see!"

She grabbed him by the hand and practically dragged him up the stairs, her shyness discarded in favor of self-preservation. When they made it to the top floor, that's where it was. The most beautiful Goddamn armor he'd ever seen. It was made of some kind of glassy dark metal, probably Delyn or black diamond or something. It was a full plate, so black it almost hurt your eyes. Horns on the helmet, too. Every piece fit together perfectly so that there wouldn't be an inch of flesh exposed for whoever was wearing it. It obviously belonged to the long departed master of the tower, and it was held in place by stark white chains coiled around it. He had no idea what they were made of, but he was certainly not going to walk away from there without that armor. The mercenary's hands gripped the chains, the young students watching with bated breath. Godhand began to pull, his forearms bulging and his face fearsome. There were a couple of steps back from the children when he bared his teeth, but finally there was a loud snap and the chain dissipated into this air. The gunman stumbled backwards, falling on his ass and looking up at the fearsome armor much like a child would at his father.

It was his, now.