An evening gone awry

[redford]

(Yaboy Hayate is in this one.)


Fog rarely settled over the region surrounding Radasanth, but today was one of the few this year where it settled thick around the streets of the city, oppressing the lanterns which were now prevalent in the streets, and even held out by some to avoid troublesome collisions. John himself was thankful that he wasn't out in the humid stuff, it always irritated him, the way he could feel the tiny droplets of water floating around him, or not being able to see too far ahead. He puffed a bit on his cigar, leaning back. He glanced over at Jamie, who had accompanied him to one of the more 'exclusive' places to eat in the city, citing his most recent and seemingly prolonged absences as reason for them to go out. John didn't really have a preference, but Jamie did look quite nice in her long dress. It was a simple dark blue affair which widened at the sleeves and below the knees, but clung more closely to her form everywhere else. The half-giant admitted to himself that the trip and the expense were worth a relatively quiet night with her.

The steak was also pretty good as well, he thought, looking back at her, almost snuggled under his arm. She had one of his hands in both of his, and twisted a green crystalline ring around his finger. He should say something. That was the right thing to do, right? Something romantic. He opened his mouth.

"Nice ring, yeah? I got it-"

"Fighting a golem, right?" she interrupted. John looked away, closing his eyes for a moment. Oh yeah John Cromwell master of romance am I, he thought.

"You should tell me the story again though, it's exciting every time you tell it," she finished, smiling up at him.

Well, at least one of them knew their way around a relationship. John took a drag on his cigar, pushing out a ring of smoke that hung lazily in the calm lantern-light of the restaurant. He was about to start the tale when an older man walked up to their table. A balding man, he walked with a slight limp, a disability mitigated by an ornate cane made of carved wood and inlaid with gold and silver. The extravagance of the cane was matched in his clothing, and his finely pressed shirt and coat were embroidered with golden thread in some places. His short white hair was still a full head, but he had begun losing it in the front. He spoke.

"You are John Cromwell, are you not, sir? I am Lord Davern Marentarth, and I wish to have your crafting talents put to use for a sword." As he completed the rehearsed line, Lord Davern straightened up a bit, and raised his cane a bit, almost as if it were a scepter. John sighed. Was there any nobility in the city that understood construction? Were there any that even understood the times that had befallen Corone as a whole?

"No." he said quickly, returning his attentions to Jamie, who looked up at him in confusion. As if that was the wrong answer, in fact.

The lord seemed confused as well. "I will have you handsomely paid for the work, you know," he persuaded.

"I said no. I have no time for swords, Davern," John finished truthfully. The city was hurting and in need of every nail, horseshoe, and axehead that he could forge, and spending a week or more on a sword that would see no use apart from two or three test swings was not on his agenda.

Davern sputtered. "That is Lord Davern to you, sir. And I will not be spoken to in such a way!" he demanded, rapping his cane once on the ground for emphasis. Jamie squeezed his hand, speaking up herself.

"My esteemed lord, surely there are more suited craftsmen for this work, yes? Perhaps one of the elven smiths from abroad?"

The lord, now distracted by Jamie's beauty almost as much as her words, scoffed.

"Surely not! I'll not have my money going someplace like that. Besides, John, no matter how disrespectful he may be, is recommended."

She continued in that soft, meek voice she adopted when trying to persuade someone in a higher social standing. "but surely there is great need for him in the city, with the great catastrophe? Your farmers will need axes and scythes for the harvest, and my lord must have the foresight to see that." She raised her voice, just a bit, at the end of her statement, drawing more wandering eyes to the conversation. Pompous though he was, Lord Davern knew how to act in the court, and bowed his head slightly.

"My lady, I would never think to be so unwise. I am ensuring the safety of my workers in farms and mines across Corone. Rest assured I should like to employ your services after this crisis is over, Mr. Cromwell," he finished, bowing to Jamie and walking away, trailed by a bodyguard and a manservant.

John breathed deeply. "I had it under control, you know."

Jamie giggled a little. "You did not! If I'd have let you handle the situation we'd both be facing mysterious tax increases and harassment from the local guards."

"Please," John entoned, leaving his cigar on his empty dinner plate. "I can handle myself?"

Her eyes widened "And what about me?"

"I can handle yourself too, you know," he said, pulling her closer.

Despite the most recent interruption, it was shaping up to be a pleasant evening.

[Hayate_Amatsukami]

That’s one down, only three more to go… Hayate thought to himself as he leapt from roof to roof traversing the sprawling city of Radasanth. Since the eruption in Lorinus more and more people flocked to the city seeking refuge and safety in numbers. The ashen skies reflect the apathetic moods that blanketed everyone in sight. Though times may look bleak there are still many things that need to be done, not only for those trying just to outlive the devastation but for those seeking to capitalize upon it. Hayate was one of the latter and he alongside his faithful militant weren’t going to be left behind. No matter what Vann Osiris had said.

From above the city streets looked like infested allies as many people took to setting up makeshift housing wherever they found the room. It was truly a street urchin’s paradise, plenty of pockets to be picked. Hayate Amatsukami, along with three members of his task force, had made the journey to Radasanth from Tylermande seeking the aid of the great houses in the upcoming siege on the city. It was still some time off, but the ground work still had to be laid. And it didn’t matter what Storm or anyone thought, Hayate couldn’t trust just anyone with this delicate matter.

Soon the shinobi stopped at the edge of one a building overlooking a prominent part of town. And before long he was accompanied by three shadows, his subordinates, all taking up position around him. Without words Hayate gestured for them to be off and do what they had come to do and in an instant the three figures melded with the shadows and were gone.

“What do you think?” the lone Amatsukami asked as he reached for the hilt of his nodachi. “Should we take a moment and observe the scene? The others can handle addressing the nobility on our behalf, we should get a closer look at all these civilian and assess the threat level.”

Must you really ask me? We both know you’re going to do whatever you want anyway. The voice of Yamato answered him from the recesses of the shinobi’s mind.

“I just like hearing you sometimes, you’re always so chipper.” He finished as he stepped off the edge of the building. With a flick of his wrist a large cable jettisoned from his arm and latched tightly on to the building, gently lowering him all the way down to the street.

It wasn’t long before Hayate found himself lost in the shoulder to shoulder crowd. He hated the smell of it, the squalor of un-bathed filth, it disgusted him. But to his amazement something grabbed his attention, rather someone. From the corner of his eye Hayate spotted a large sight for sore eyes, sitting in a nice restaurant with a fine lady at his side was none other than the giant himself. John ‘Mother Lovin’ Cromwell had come to the city instead of sitting at home on his farm.

Instantly Hayate’s mood improved as he pushed himself through the crowd to get to the restaurant to see his mechanic. After a brief chat with the host he was granted permission to enter and come up to John’s table. Hayate wasn’t sure if he would be interrupting things, but in all honestly he didn’t much care. They appeared to have finished their food and were just chatting so he brushed off any hesitation and walked up behind the half-giant.

“It’s been a while John, everything seems to be holding up nicely.” The shinobi said as he rested his metal hand on John’s shoulder. “I’ll never really be able to pay you back for this. But I can offer you some advice, it’s about time you get yourself out of Radasanth.”

[redford]

John looked to his side. Where the bombastic lord had been, there was the shinobi, Hayate, in his place.

Perhaps this wasn't shaping up to be a pleasant evening after all. John glanced at the metal of his arm, his hand resting on his shoulder. Truth to tell, even in his chair John was as tall as the ninja beside him. He looked around the table as Hayate spoke, trying to find any danger or suspicious behavior from patrons. Aside from the fog, slowly attempting to roll in and barely being beaten back by the lantern light of the open air portion of the restaurant, John could not see anything significant. The half-giant's eyes narrowed.

"Are you threatening me?" He asked of the shinobi, placing a massive arm on the table to separate Hayate and Jamie. It didn't feel like much, but it was something. He began to feel tense, and he uncrossed his legs, ready to move if he needed to.

A scream pierced the night, long and wailing, and was then cut off abruptly. Guards immediately moved toward the sound, which came from the courtyard, which sat ringed by buildings such as the restaurant. The thickness of it prevented John from seeing too far into the courtyard, no more than ten feet or so. He could not see the source of the strangled cry, but he imagined he knew who was responsible. He whipped his arm at his own shoulder, catching the shinobi's metal forearm in his hand, and squeezed tight. He felt the Titanium, strong though it was, flex slightly in his powerful grip. He pulled the boy toward him, and pushed Jamie away with his other hand. She would understand. John's metal armor began to seep down his arms, coating his skin in rivulets.

"What is this, boy?" he asked forcefully, squeezing his arm further. He could break the thing, true, but he didn't want to destroy his own work unless it was absolutely required.

[Hayate_Amatsukami]

Just say the command and I’ll make him wish he never laid a hand on you!

“Back off!” yelled the Akashiman as he pulled against John’s mighty grip.

There was a bitter chill in the air, be it the unnatural fog that seeped through the floor boards or the tension of John’s grip, regardless Hayate was officially on edge. He felt his arm slowly bend and flex in the giant’s grip, though he was sure John was his friend one could never be too sure. With his eyes locked with the giant’s Hayate brought his foot up to about John’s waist and kicked off the brute breaking his hold and staggering back a step or two.

“What’s the big deal, I thought you would be happy to see me?” the shinobi ask as he threw his hood back and took a firm stance standing up to the man before him. Hayate was clearly ready for a fight but refrained from doing anything that might endanger John’s lovely lady sitting just behind him. He knew that a friendly tussle would be in order but it didn’t seem that John was in the mood by the way he had already separated her from the two of them. Finally after a moment both he and John seemed to relax, at least as much as they could knowing that just outside something had gone down. Hayate turned and looked out the glass windows into the courtyard trying hard to see anything through the rolling fog. As too did his Blacksmith seemingly moving past the harsh greetings.

“Whatever it is I had nothing to do with it, I already told you once that Radasanth wouldn’t be safe for too much longer, but I can guarantee you that the Brotherhood is not in the city yet.” He didn’t know why he felt he could trust John as much as he did, and he also knew if Shinsou would have known of his loose lips with the Giant there would be hell to pay. But above all else, he knew that there was going to be enough bloodshed and he wouldn’t allow anything to happen to his friends no matter the cost.

“It’s been good to see you, I guess…” Hayate said as he started for the door. There was a crowd forming around the exit to try catch a glance at whatever was out there.

Why do you get so involved with people, he clearly had his own issues to deal with, I just don’t see why you cling to these bonds like your life depends on it, he could have killed you, and by the looks of it would have to protect that girl.

Yamato was right after all, Hayate had become more social in the last few months. He wasn’t sure why though, could it be he wished to fill the hole in his heart, or did he just wish to die?

“Move these peasants, Rise up Corpse King.” As the words left his lips the large Nodachi on his back started to shatter and turn to dust, and as the last molecule of the blade vanished a burning red light began to envelope Hatate right arm. From his shoulder large tendrils of sinew and flesh started to grow forth until the massive arm of the Corpse King had appeared. Compared to his own body this arm nearly scrapped the ground and as exposed muscle and bone soon became solid armor Hayate gently moved the crowd aside that was blocking his path. If John couldn't see the obvious challenge it would almost be disappointing. But all that would have to wait.

As Hayate moved into the courtyard he could start to see what had happened. There were a number of city guardsmen gathered around a body, all hunched over trying to see what had happened. Though through the fog there could be any number of unassuming threats lurking about. With the large influx of people seeking refuge in the city there could be no way of knowing what kind of crazy lunitics are here. As he stepped closer one of the guards leaped up and drew his sword pointing it at the Shinobi.

“Stand back!” he said with as much gusto as he could manage in the face of a man with a titan’s arm attached to his body. “This is a secure area!” soon the other guards were all at attention ready to act at a moment’s notice.

“Relax I'm here to help, and by the looks of things you may be needing it. What happened here, is she dead?"

"Worse..."

[redford]

Despite his apparent malcontent, John felt it had been the right decision to let go of he boy's arm. There was no way he could be certain that his warning and the woman's scream were connected, no matter how inconvenient the timing was. Had news of the brotherhood set him that far on edge? He doubted it. Jamie had been his first priority in that moment, and though he didn't wish to fight Hayate, he would do so if the shinobi threatened her. He would do the same in the case of the Brotherhood. Truth to tell, he wasn't sure how he felt about the war. John knew that the lavish lifestyles of the nobility was built on a working class that, for lack of a more eloquent term, worked for shit pay, in shit conditions, for shitty people.

Senseless bloodshed was, however, something that John hated, and seemed to be what the Brotherhood was shaping up to be. The frenzy to which people had been whipped, especially in Radasanth, had been troubling. He looked back at Jamie. He wished she would have taken his suggestion to get out of the country to heart, but she had no desire to drift from place to place again. She had found a home in Radasanth, something her violent childhood and most of her subsequent adult life had lacked. John didn’t blame her for wanting to stay, but if she was going to remain in this city, John would be there with her. Besides, he didn’t imagine that the Telgradian would spend time and effort attacking someone who might not even be an enemy. No, Shinou was smarter than that, no matter how misguided his ambitions.

The arm that Hayate grew brought John back from his thoughts as he saw the shinobi leave. It had to be magic, but John did not know what kind or where he drew his power. Clearly, there was more to him than John knew, at least for now. He looked back at Jamie, who still sat, surprisingly calm, considering all of what had just transpired. He spoke.

“I should-”

“Go, John,” she interrupted, the edge of her mouth curling up slightly as she stood and took another sip of water. “They’re playing your song. Besides, I’ll be right behind you.

John grunted. They’d had this discussion enough for John to know it wouldn’t bear any fruit. He didn’t press the issue, and stood up, ambling toward the door.

He passed through to the courtyard, which was large enough and the fog dense enough such that he couldn’t see the other side. Frankly, he wasn’t sure he could see thirty feet in front of him. He walked into the fog several paces, Jamie behind him. Eyes forward, he spied the now-unbalanced silhouette of Hayate, who was barking orders to the city guard. As John arrived, he saw the scene. A few onlookers had arrived, but the spectacle was the young woman on the cobbles at the gawkers’ feet. Her eyes were open, her mouth contorted into a grimace, but the disturbing whiteness of her skin unnerved John even more. John thought that she was simply wearing white clothing, but her entire body, clothing and all, had been drained of color. Everything on her body was a pale white, from her hair right down to the buttons on her dress. A voice broke the murmuring onlookers’ conversation as John drew close.

“Worse…” the voice echoed, it sounded like a gust of wind through trees. The fog seemed to shift, to warp in places, to coalesce and dissipate as it it were alive. The ominous voice returned.

“...She’s bait”

It took less than a heartbeat for John to realize what was going on, and as he did, he turned to Jamie.

“Run, now!” he shouted, pointing back to the restaurant, even the lights barely visible in the unknown miasma. As Jamie turned to flee, she screamed and collapsed to the ground, along with two of the guards standing beside the woman.

“Ah, it makes my spirit soar!” the voice called, and part of the undulating mist before John condensed into the shape of a face. The mouth opened, speaking with that rasping voice again. “Fear! Ah, just rapturous!”

John paid the face no mind as he rushed to Jamie, who whimpered, staring upwards at nothing and writhing on the ground. His panic threatened to overwhelm him as he cradled her, muttering to himself.

“No, no, no, no, no,” the half-giant repeated, checking Jamie’s pulse. A thousand scenarios flashed in his mind, each more vivid and disturbing than the last, and all involving Jamie’s demise. The voice returned, booming deeply inside his mind, yet of the same essence somehow.

And with bigger bait comes bigger prey…..

Jamie’s eyes refocused as John’s gazed into nothing, and he collapsed beside Jamie, still as a stone.

[Hayate_Amatsukami]

Just a Hayate thought, John the Giant wasn’t going to let him have all the fun to himself. And with only a few moments apart he and his fine lady joined Hayate out in the foggy court yard. Not a few moments past before all hell broke loose and the very atmosphere itself began to chuck and churn all around them. The shinobi was ready though for the very moment the ghostly fog took the shape of a grotesque grin he flicked his wrist sending forth two razor sharp shuriken soaring towards it.

“Everyone get back!” Hayate yelled as he saw his weapons fly straight through the fog and hit the brick of the restaurant they came from. The guards all seemed to panic and flee towards the crowded restaurant in what Hayate only hoped was with a goal of protecting the patrons inside, otherwise he would be ashamed of their cowards. Unlike the other John had only one thing on his mind, to protect her, and as he ran to his lady’s side the large man seemingly fell to the ground unconscious.

“John!” the young Akashiman yelled towards to his mechanic. His senses were on overdrive as he strained his vison trying to see what had just happened. From his position all he saw was the ghostly apparition manipulating the fog appear before his friend and a moment later John was sprawled on the ground.

What should he do? What could he do?

Without putting much though into it Hayate formulated a half-assed scheme to handle the situation. If the thing behind this is using the fog as a weapon then he had to get his friends out of here, and be careful not to let whatever happened to John happen to him. Firstly Hayate tore a sliver of his cloak with his teeth and fashioned a mask to cover his mouth and nose, if this thing was truly gaseous he would have to block out as much as he could while he acted.

And not a moment later Hayate sprang into action using his grappling hook to latch onto the ground a foot or so from John, between him and his partner, before jettisoning over. Summoning what strength he had the Shinobi grabbed the woman that was with John, lifting her onto his shoulder before quickly using his grappling hook once more to ascend to the roof top of the restaurant. And just as he hoped the fog wasn’t nearly as thick this high up and felt it was safe to leave Jamie here for now while hedid what he could to help the giant below.

[redford]

John opened his eyes, staring upward at a white ceiling. He reached to the side for his wife, but found only messy blankets. Where was Angela? John rolled to the side, standing. She was usually the first one up anyways. A wordless cry echoed across the manor house, and John stared at the doorway, only now smelling smoke, and noticing a slight orange glow coming from the bedroom doorway. He raced through the door, grabbing a shortsword hanging on the wall nearby. He called out for Angela.

"Angela! Where are you?"

Something was wrong. The walls were on fire, but he felt no heat from them. Despite Angela's frantic cries, he felt no urgency. John lowered his sword.

A dream... he realized, descending the stairs into the two-story foyer. It was his home, once upon a time. Twin staircases in light grained Salvaran wood led up to small balconies, and in front of those stairs stood the bandits. The same eight men he had seen countless times in the years following the massacre at his homestead stood, two with knives pressed against his wife and daughter. John stared blankly. He had become numb to it. He hated that reliving this memory had desensitized him to this tragedy. He called out to the swirling, billowing fire.

"I am dead to this, you monster! You cannot visit any horror upon me that I've not already done to myself!" There was a certain acceptance within his statement. He refused to acknowledge that he was trying to convince himself just as much as his surroundings.

The smoke bloomed, opening a maw backlit by the flames behind it. Its voice like the sound of rolling stones called out.

"LIAR!" A cackling laugh followed. "You are in MY field now, Cromwell, and I know everything about you. You cannot deceive me!"

The vision shifted. Instead of Angela, there now was Jamie. Her face was battered and bloody, and the knife that the bandit held against her chest drew blood from the tip. John raced up the stairs, but was rebuffed by a wall of coalescing smoke. It threw him back to the foot of the stairs, and he stood, feeling weak.

"Not Jamie...." he mumbled, staggering. "Please."

A gasp from the spirit rose. "Yes, boy. Beg me to spare your dream of a woman! Your fear, so intense! A dream, sufficient to give me real, physical form! Fear this inevitability, John, I drink your despair like wine and I will destroy all you love because you are too WEAK to stand against me! Fear me, FEAR for your Jamie, because like your wife, you cannot save her!"

John stared at the dreamlike depiction of Jamie, her eyes were so afraid, and there was nothing he could do. He sank to his knees. His wife, and now this. He could protect no one. For all his strength, all his power, all of the people he shielded died, and he was never good enough to stop it. He stared at the ground. Despair, fear, desire, hopelessness, all mingled, fogging his mind.

Outside the dream, the spirit grew stronger, and the fog became more dense. Jamie called out to John repeatedly, but he did not awaken. She saw a black tendril of fog, darker than the mist surrounding it, leading from John and into the air. What could she do? She tried to make her way down the building. Cursed shinobi, I've got to get to John, she thought frantically as she found a ladder.

A claw coalesced in the courtyard, ten feet across, and scraped the cobbles, digging up the earth and scattering it in a wide arc. Stones the size of fists flew into nearby buildings, and screams erupted from within.

"THEY FEAR ME AGAIN!" the spirit roared. "And I will have my form again!" Another claw sprang into existence, and swiped at two guardsmen who were brave enough to remain.

[Hayate_Amatsukami]

The Last Amatsukami leapt from the safety of the rooftop and returned once more to the thick mist below. There was little time to react as the moment his foot touched the cobblestone a dark claw manifested itself and swiped at both he and two nameless guardsmen beside him. The monster’s attack was strong and tore at Hayate’s left shoulder reducing his cloak to a tattered mess and sending him flying backwards crashing into the side of the restaurant. Whatever this thing was it had ludicrous amount of power and was something way out of the regular man’s league.

Bricks lurched and fell from the human sized crater Hayate was pinned in and as the dark presence began to take its true form the shinobi could only focus on one thing. John was still lying on the ground twenty or so feet from him, he had to do something to help him. With what willpower he could muster Hayate jerked his limbs free of the rubble and took point moving in front of the others. He was hurt, his shoulder broken, but that wouldn’t stop him from doing whatever he could.

“Stand back!” he yelled as he reached once more his is blade and as his finger touched its hilt again it fractured and disappeared. Like before a red light erupted from his feet and quickly filled the darkened courtyard with a vibrant red hue. The ground shook as sinews of flesh and muscle wrapped itself around his body until all that was visible was a skinless giant’s upper torso. The abomination shook violently and began to shriek loudly as ethereal armor plates snapped over it and it became the construct known only as the Corpse King.

In the Corpse King’s left arm formed a mighty red saber made of red energy and with a mighty swing of his arm the blade tore through the mist severing the dark monster in two. The dark gaseous figure dissipated before reforming once more as if it completely was unaffected by his attack. Hayate continued to scream violently as he tried again and again to bisect the being, unaware of the collateral damage he was causing. All is efforts were in vain for as he swung his last attack the monster persisted and made its move. Like a serpent it weaved its way underneath and behind Hayate and struck down the two men he had been shielding.

“Get away from here! No one is safe!” Hayate yelled as he tried in vain to do anything against the spirit.

[redford]

Jamie took the ladder rungs two at a time, despite the restrictive fabric of her dress, the cursed thing. She got to the bottom, and made haste toward the courtyard again, seeing John’s collapsed form. His color was off somehow, as if his skin and clothing had lost contrast. The spectral figure shouted again, trying to land a claw on the elusive shinobi, but its attention was at least undivided. She rushed over to the ignored giant, feeling his forehead and pulse. He was cold, intensely so. She slapped his face a bit, trying to remain in control over her rampant emotions.

“John, wake up. Wake up, please,” she repeated. His eyes stirred for a moment under their lids, but otherwise he did not stir. She reached back, slapping him hard across the cheek. His eyes fluttered for a moment, and he fell back into unconsciousness.

He doesn’t even hardly feel it, does he?

The truth of John’s resilience was lost on Jamie as she looked up for anything to help her waken him. She spied the lord from earlier, peeking out of a window. She shouted at him.

“you! Cane, now!!”

The lord, she had already forgotten his name, spoke up shakily. “Who, m-”

Jamie didn’t let him finish. “Yes you! If you value your life you’ll toss me that cane!”

A moment later, a frightened cry emanated from the window where the noble had been hiding, and a glint of gold engraving upon wood sailed through the ever-deepening fog. Jamie caught the cane and flipped it so that the handle, a knob of wood about the size of a fist, was facing downward. She brought the cane upwards, bringing it down in a sideways swipe aimed at his temple.

“Wake up, love,” she whispered as it connected.

John’s eyes snapped open. Jamie was standing over him, his head felt like a rung bell, and he was so very cold. His joints ached as he sprang into action with what felt like immense sluggishness. He righted himself just in time to see a foggy spectral claw rip its way through the fog. John instinctively snatched Jamie up in his arms and turned his back to the spectre. He tried to maneuver his armor toward his back, but only managed to cover it partially before the attack hit. It tore his shirt to ribbons, gouging the unprotected flesh underneath, tossing them both back toward the restaurant. He tried to protect Jamie, but as they landed she fell hard, and he heard her groan. He pulled off of her. She was cradling a forearm, bent at an impossible angle. She managed a weak smirk as the booming voice of the long-dead wizard returned.

“you may have brought yourself out, Cromwell, but now I have my claws in a new toy! I will have the fear that is due me, and I’ll destroy this city once I have it!”

“You really need to get out of here now,” John said to Jamie. She nodded, pain contorting her face into a grimace as she held the cane almost like a brace. John covered his wounds in armor. They wouldn’t bleed now, but still hurt like hell. He was still cold, too.

A new voice cut through the din of fear and combat; sharp and clear.

“Move, men! Clear these streets! Get the civilians out of here, clear the fog barrier! John!”

John looked up, recognizing the voice of Daniel, a captain in the city’s guard, and quite the competent fighter. Add to that a set of custom-forged armor from John, and the man was a tour de force for any guardsman to behold. He had to look up, but still held the air of command.

“What is all this, John? Reports that you and one other are fighting something?”

Daniel was a jovial man, but this was business, and few took their job as seriously as he did. John ignored the pains in his back and left Jamie to splint her broken arm.

“Specter, some kind of magic force bent on making us fear it. Completely incorporeal, best course is to get the men out and bring in someone with real magic. Considering that, your men should stand back and let me and the other buy you as much time as we can.”

John paused. There was no way the specter would let him or Hayate leave, now that everything was in motion, and if the monster truly did thrive on fear, then Jamie being here would have more detriment to the fight than she could comprehend. He put a massive hand on Daniel’s shoulder, engulfing it.

“Daniel, I need you to get her out. Your men have their orders, they know what to do, but if this thing wants me to fear it, the worst thing for all of us is for Jamie to be here.” He glanced over to her. She had realized it a moment ago, but still held the look of someone who is going to need a while to work through all of their emotions on the subject. Her face alternated between pained, horrified, and sad all at the same time.

Daniel pondered for a moment, watching the fight between the malevolent force and the shinobi. The specter was getting close, but hitting Hayate was like trying to skewer a fly with an arrow at a hundred yards. He looked back at John, comprehending.

“Consider it done, friend,” he said quickly, and barked orders at three of his men to accompany him and Jamie. Without a word they were off, finding a way out of the fog and the specter’s influence. He just had to buy her, and any wizards en route, as much time as he could. The thoughts of his dream nagged his mind as he stepped forward, the magical armor coating his arms, chest, and head. His hands clanged together, and he prepared for a stalemate of a fight.