Vainta's Last Stand ((Open))

[Zieg dil' Tulfried]

((Alright, this is my attempt to actually complete a thread. I hope I will be inspired enough to roleplay again. Open to any.))

Explosions rocked the city of Haidia as blast after blast of flaming rock pounded against the outer wall. Flames engulfed buildings throughout the city as the attack continued. The Demon Army was in chaos, scrambling around throughout the city trying to determine what there orders were. Screams erupted from the citizens of the large city. The dwarves were attacking, and they were very well organized.

Zieg dil' Tulfried, High General of the Demon Army, was doing his best to maintain the order he was used to, but there was just too much to do. He had sent his two generals, Zaketh ag' Dinmos and Johannan ag' Tranta to fortify the two gates, while he rushed through the city gathering whoever he could to brace the walls.

The attack had started just a few hours earlier, with no warning whatsoever. Out of nowhere a large ball of fire had rained down over the wall upon the Demon Army Headquarters, engulfing the building in flames. Zieg had managed to get nearly everyone out of the building, including himself, his son, and Xeppa. After setting up a temporary headquarters in a nearby shop, the High General had attempted to get word out to his men that were partrolling the countryside, but it was to no avail. Any man who left the safety of the city was killed instantly.

Zieg had had only one option. He had sent Kaza, on Xeppa's back, high into the sky to go get reinforcements from Vla'toros. Dera'losta'nofa was a good leader and if anyone could organize the men to help, he could. It also got Kaza out of the town and away from danger. He only hoped the help came in time.

The walls themselves were holding for now, but it was only a matter of time until the dwarves made it through into the city. It was then that the demons would have to be at their best. All were armed and ready, just waiting for that eventual moment. The demon knight had more pressing issues to deal with than waiting. He was rushing his way through the city, through the crazed masses, trying to get to the castle.

Finally arriving at the castle gates, he found them shut tight. He ordered the guards to open them, and rushed through before they were fully open. He ran as fast as he could up the steps into the main foyer. Passing by numerous guards and many of his own men, he made his way into the throne room where he found newly crowned King Aidos curled up on the throne. The young boy was crying his eyes out and shivering.

Zieg dropped to one knee. "Your Majesty, you need to leave the city. It is not safe for you here. Even though you are but a child, if anything were to happen to you, the nation of Haidia would be in shambles. Come now, make your way through the tunnels beneath the city which should take you to the outlying villages. The people there will hide you and keep you safe."

Aidos looked up, staring straight into Zieg's eyes. "I cannot leave my people," he said meekly.

"Go, Aidos," Zieg said gently. "There is nothing you can do here." Zieg turned on heel and ran back out of the throne room. He stopped at the first guards and ordered them to escort the king from the castle. He then sprinted out of the castle and back into the city.

[Molotov]

Molotov had entered Haidia without altruistic motives. Like many other places in Althanas, the mutant was a wanted criminal here. The chances of him getting a visa in Vainta were very unlikely, especially if the rumors about a recent explosion were true. Still, Molotov hoped that there might be a chance for redemption for him within the demon army. His appearance was not particularly noteworthy compared to that of demons, and one of his greatest services had been in the name of the son of Haidia’s king. In fact, it was in Haidia that Molotov had experienced a renaissance of sorts, in as much as Myrhia Bastilien had brought new focus to his life.

This appearance in Haidia would be a test of that. Molotov was going to offer his services to the Demon Army in their time of need and see if he couldn’t redeem his name in the eyes of the Haidia law enforcement. At the moment, Molotov was known only as the only outsider who had escaped the Labyrinth, and perhaps among a few as the mutant who had bested their high general, Zieg dil’Tulfried, in the Gisela open.

However, no stories of valor would help Molotov get into Vainta, especially in a time like this. The demon clerk in charge of granting visas by Vainta’s gate just looked on the mutant and sighed. “You are not welcome here,” he said. “This is not a place for your kind of people.”

“What if I told you that I was your last bloody chance, you ponce?” Molotov replied, confrontational not because he expected it would yield results, but because he had no other choice.

The clerk looked on sternly. “This is not the time to be trying to come into Vainta,” the demon said sternly. “If you have to be here, go to Hrenta Nodos, they tolerate your kind of miscreant there…”

“Now look you bloody sod…” Molotov began, only to notice that there was a royal precession leading out of Vainta. Desperate for an opportunity to prove himself, Molotov knew he had but few options. Immediately, he ran towards the royal precession, hoping that King Aidos was there. If the king were to remember him for his help with the prince, then it might be Molotov’s only chance in.

Immediately, the mutant ran through the crowd of guards and straight to the king. He was so determined in his movement that none of the king’s vaunted guards were able to stop the mutant before he was at Aidos’ palanquin.

“Please,” Molotov huffed, breathing rapidly so as to recover the breath from his mad dash. “Please King Aidos please, I beg you. Grant me refuge in Vainta. I need to seek my redemption here, show Althanas that I can in fact be a hero. I am Molotov, I have defended you, and my exploits are known well enough here. I bested your bloody general… Zieg dil’Tulfried, back when he was just bloody ag’Tulfried, PLEASE!”

Desperation was apparent in the mutant’s voice. If this was to be Vainta’s last stand, the mutant needed to be a part of it. Too much of Molotov’s history was embedded in Vainta, even though much of it was bad. If the city was going to be destroyed, it ruined Molotov’s chances of ever making amends there.

“I remember you,” Aidos replied. “You helped me, and now I'm desperate. Desperation breeds a willingness to do all kinds of things.”

“Yes… bloody yes…” Molotov said frantically, seething at the opportunity to get into Vainta. He could tell that Aidos posessed a king's wisdom just from the young king's voice. Aidos was frightened, but so was any rational citizen of Vainta. It would have been poor of Molotov to hold that against the young king.

Aidos sighed. “I will grant you entry. It is a desperate decision, but my people need you. If you truly bested my greatest general in Gisela, you will be the very inspiration my troops need. They will sacrifice for their king but not in vain. Remember what Myrhia taught you though, it is a lesson you shouldn't forget.”

“I will never forget that,” Molotov replied very firmly.

“Well spoken,” Aidos decided. The king turned to one of his footmen. “He is to be granted an emergency visa…” Aidos instructed.

Molotov nodded in gratitude, reluctant to say anything else for he might jeopardize his newfound position. Still, he couldn’t help but to thank the king. “Thank you,” he gushed. “You’ve bloody made me a happy man…”

“Lets see that you do the same,” Aidos replied tartly.

-x-

As soon as he’d been given entry into the city, Molotov had leapt onto his asperi and flown into the city. “Come on Cocktail, urgency is of the bloody key,” Molotov muttered to his reliable steed, the asperi who had remained loyal to him throughout his travails in Shanleh. Vainta was a particularly depressing sight. Explosions were everywhere. Terror rocked the city. Women who loved their husbands, children who loved their parents, all of them were in tears.

Molotov gulped. It was a jarring sight. Still, he needed to keep a calm mind. In Gisela, he wasn’t a tactician, he was a motivator of soldiers. If he were to be here to serve Zieg, it would be unlikely that he would be afforded the same luxury. Thus, the mutant knew he needed to keep his mind sharp.

Soon, Cocktail landed at Vainta's main castle. There was pandemonium in the city, and there were guards blocking the mutant’s way up into the offices of anyone significant. Still Molotov wasn’t frazzled. He had his visa. After this point, there would be enough desperation in Vainta that others would welcome him.

“I have come to help,” the mutant said. “If you bloody don’t know who I am, I’ll tell you. Molotov Insidious, former general of the Mutant Misfits. See if that name doesn’t mean anything to your high general if nothing else…”

One of the guards nodded. Molotov could tell that the guard thought the entire situation was a bit out of control, the demon had been left with little choice in wake of the bomb blasts that had rocked the city. “I’ll go get dil’Tulfried,” the guard said. “You wait here.”

“I will,” Molotov said. He grabbed the guard by the shoulder. “Keep in mind though, as long as you refuse me into the city, I’ll bloody be waiting here,” he threatened. “I’ll be waiting here to see what happens.”

[Zieg dil' Tulfried]

Zieg rushed down the stone steps of the castle and past the iron gates that seperated the castle from the rest of the town. He had barely made it past them before he was stopped by a demon soldier. An arm across the chest, fist clenched, was the salute he gave. Before he spoke, Zieg heard the gate close with a metal clang.

"Sir, there is a person here to help with the defense from the overworld. He claims to know you, a Molotov Insidious." Instantly, Zieg was sent back in time, thoughts filling his head of the previous year when he had participated in the Gisela Tournament. Molotov had been the one to defeat him. Zieg shook his head to clear it, before glaring at the soldier.

"If he wants to help, then take him to where he can. The dwarven army just closed off the last possible escape route we could take. We are trapped here now. Everyone inside has only to choices, fight or die. Even those that choose to fight may still perish defending this city, but I can't help that. It's time to fight, fool! Not waste my time!" Zieg shoved the soldier out of the way, ripped the Gamygym from its sheath and ran toward the East Gate. He caught glimpses of Molotov as he ran by, not bothering to stop. The mutant would do what he wanted, not that it mattered to the demon.

Houses and shops alike burned under the onslaught of the dwarves. Zieg had few options. The dwarves had come in massive numbers, more than any demon ever thought existed. The entire city was surrounded, and the walls were slowly crashing down around the smaller demon army. Several confused soldiers, seeing their leader run by, took up their weapons and followed suit. Metal boots clashed loudly on the cobbled road on which they ran, though noone heard over the deafening screams.

Once Zieg arrived at the East Gate, he knew the cause was lost. The iron reforced wooden gate was split down the middle. All of the soldiers there strained to hold it together, even General Zaketh had his shoulder into it, trying to keep the dwarves from entering the city. The High General was forced to make a decision that tore him apart.

"Fall back, fall back! Make a stand 10 meters back! Arm yourselves, the dwarves have breeched the wall!" The Gamygym burst into flames in the demon general's grip. His men fell back behind him, though Zaketh stood at his side.

"I hope you have some plan, sir." Zaketh muttered under his breath. A cyclone of fire began to spin around Zieg, grower stronger with every passing moment.

"So do I," Zieg said quietly. His statement was overwhelmed by the wooden gate crashing inward and an uncountable number of dwarves rushing in. Zieg pointed his weapon forward at the oncoming dwarves and they came closer and closer. Finally, Zieg released the massive cyclone and the air roared as it rushed at the Demon Army's foe. Flames engulfed the dwarves, singeing the ground, the broken gate and the wall. Zieg stayed focused on the task, releasing as much energy as he could without over exhausting himself.

He had to let it go, the cyclone abruptly ended and Zieg dropped to one knee, still staring at his foes. There were numerous dead dwarves littering the ground but still more came into the city. Blood red eyes staring his enemies down, he merely spoke one single word.

"ATTACK!!!"

[Molotov]

Everything was becoming much more tense as the mutant waited to hear back from Zieg dil’Tulfried. Dwarves were beginning to teem the gates, and as Molotov looked on, he knew no matter what happened, Vainta would never be the same as a result. “Bloody hell though…” Molotov thought. “Who thought that it’d be demons running in fear from dwarves.”

The mutant readied his tungsten staff. He looked at a small group of soldiers who were looking around towards each other nervously. Zieg had taken a group of soldiers over to protect the East Gate, but these fighters had remained behind merely talking with each other. The mutant looked at them and tried not to laugh. It was shocking to think that there would be these kinds of people in the Demon Army, but it wasn’t surprising. The carnage that Vainta had endured was enough to try even the hardest souls.

Still, Molotov couldn’t stand for it. While Zieg may have been able to hold off the East Gate, it was unlikely that the dwarves would offer the demons the courtesy of attacking from just one angle. Perhaps more importantly, Molotov had seen the way that the dwarves were preparing their attack. A huge infantry was surging up through the East Gate, but they were also preparing catapults to the north.

He was going to have to act fast. Molotov looked at the demons, and then towards the guard that had initially denied him entry. “What’s going on with those wankers… “ the mutant asked. “And why aren’t you bloody over with Zieg…”

The guard looked a bit sheepish. “That’s one of our strike teams, they’re special operations, not equipped for battles like this normally… and I’m a guard here. My responsibility is staying here.”

Molotov sighed. “Bloody hell… for the love of whatever sodding god you have here.” The mutant looked over towards the group of demons. All of them were clad and back, and they all carried short melee weapons like daggers and shortswords. Some of them were equipped with wings, but the most of them looked like they would be of no use to the mutant in his attack.

As Molotov looked on them and they eyed him suspiciously. “Whaddyou want?” their leader barked. “We’re planning a surgical strike here…”

“Yeah, about that,” Molotov replied, interrupting the demon. “I’m going to let you know, they have bloody catapults, ready with some flaming thing. This whole palace will go up in flames, and then what sodding base will we defend… look I don’t care what you were doing, I don’t want you to bloody stand by while your whole castle comes on fire.”

Like the cohesive unit they were, they all spoke as one. “Yes, Sir!” they replied, uncertain of who Molotov was, but the authority with which the mutant spoke gave the impression that he was qualified for this task.

The mutant smiled and leapt onto his asperi. “Anyone who can fly, follow me, the rest of you handle damage control,” he commanded.

However, there was a moment of silence before anyone responded. It was only then that Molotov realized that the first barrage of flaming rocks had been launched towards them.

[Zieg dil' Tulfried]

The small demon force attacked the dwarven army with such courage and valor that brought a smile to Zieg's face, despite the circumstances. However, the moment of pride lasted for only a moment, as Zieg would not let his men die alone. He rushed forward, Gamygym in hand, at the dwarves. Most carried hammers or axes that were crude but efficient. Zieg parried two axes with a single swing before slicing his blade into the neck of the first. A massive liviol club landed atop the head of the other.

Zieg glanced to his side and saw Zaketh standing there, lifting his massive club back to his shoulder. The large demon shifted his weight and swung the club knocked four dwarves into a massive fire with one single swing. The blaze flared as their bodies were absorbed within, becoming no more than kindling.

Together, Zaketh and Zieg fought as one, decimated the simple soldiers of the dwarven army with ease. However, as they fought, they watched their men fall to the overwhelming numbers of the dwarves. Even they were being pushed backward into the city. All at once, five dwarves swarmed Zieg and he found himself separated from Zaketh.

His blazing blade sliced through the first dwarf’s defense with ease, chopping the axe-wielder’s head off at the neck. Exhaustion was overcoming the demon knight and he was finding himself backed further and further into a corner. One particularly meaty dwarf carrying a giant axe sliced deep into Zieg’s left leg, knocking him to the ground. Blood leapt forth from the wound, dripping to the ground to mingle with the vile liquids which already coursed the ground.

The Gamygym had been knocked from his hand in the chaos and Zieg was fumbling at a clasp on his left shoulder. Finally, it broke free and he shook his left arm until the armor fell to the ground. Instead of what one would normally find under armor, a limb of pure fire was connected to his shoulder. The dwarves approach stopped in amazement, giving Zieg a chance to grab the Gamygym off of the ground where it had fallen.

Slowly getting to his feet, the High General limped forward, blazing arm in front. He inched his way toward them, oblivious to conflict around him. They charged at Zieg, but he stood his ground. The first came at him and he slammed his blazing arm into his chest, knocking him into a brick wall. Two more came at him from one side, axe’s at ready. Zieg twisted around and swung his blade at their chest, the first blocked the blow but the second was gutted by it. Zaketh finally arrived at his side again, finishing off the two of them with fair ease.

“Are you alright, sir?” Zaketh asked, hoisting his club to his shoulder. He looked as weary as Zieg felt, but the determination on his face kept him going. His body had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing to the extent of Zieg’s injury.

“My leg was cut, but I think I will be fine. We are going to have to retreat further into the city. Their numbers are too great. We need a strategic defense point. Out here we’re being downed left and right.” Zieg replied, stepping gingerly on his injured leg. High above he saw Molotov once again, upon his flying creature, as well as a massive barrage of flaming rock.

“EVERYONE BACK! BACK OR WE’LL ALL BE SLAUGHTERED!” Zieg shouted at the top of his lungs.

[Molotov]

“Come on,” Molotov shouted. “Bloody don’t be afraid!” He could imagine how intimidating the sight of the flaming rocks would be, especially when they emerged from an ever growing army of dwarves. The power of the attackers seemed to be almost overwhelming. Molotov shook his head as he looked down at the demons, watching as many of them took to the sky.

Once they had risen, a few of them began to prepare spells, while others held their weapons ready. Their leader communicated telepathically with the mutant, letting him know of their plans.

“Some of us will worry about taking out the projectiles already fired,” Molotov heard. “The rest of us will form your flank and spearhead as you go after their catapult.”

Molotov smiled appreciatively. Perhaps he had underestimated these demons earlier. A mission like this seemed to be perfect for their special operative skills. He watched as a few demons began to spin around themselves, coating themselves with huge icicles as they hurtled forwards and straight into the fiery projectiles. Molotov cringed, there were explosions all around him of fire hitting ice, and each one left a demon dead.

“These sods are bloody crazy,” the mutant muttered to his asperi. Cocktail agreed with a mildly impressed hrumph. The gravity of the situation was now beginning to weigh on Molotov. He had come here for his own self interests, to help people in need was an added bonus. However, to see demons sacrificing their very existence nearby him just made it feel to Molotov like he had to ensure now that they wouldn’t die in vain.

Molotov flew past the shards of ice and fire as he moved above the dwarven army, protected from dwarven arrows by a few demon soldiers who were batting them away with knives. Molotov now was in the middle of their formation, a few demons towards the front were taking care of the counter offensive, while demons in the back and below protected the group. Like a flock of geese they swooped forwards, Molotov holding himself tightly to Asperi’s flank by grasping the horse tighter with his legs.

“Come on… bloody stay steady now,” he muttered as he prepared his adze. There was nothing around with which to strike it for friction, but the fast pace with which he soared through the air provided the impetus necessary for the weapon head to emerge in flames. The mutant hung towards his left, holding the weapon in one hand as he guided Cocktail’s reigns with his right.

The demons were fighting bravely, but they were dropping like flies. The dwarves, fearful of what would happen, were doing everything they could to ward Molotov’s group away from their catapult. The first pass through was coming, and now dwarven sorcerers were beginning to use earth magic to protect their most prized possession.

Molotov had to swerve as rocks began to fall from the ceiling, and the entire demon attack squadron was forced lower. “They’re bloody bringing us down,” Molotov shouted, only to get a nervous nod from one of the demons. They were outnumbered now, massively. All but five of the demons had fallen and they were no closer to their goal. In addition to sending rocks towards Molotov and his men, the dwarves had been creating an earthen barrier to block Molotov from reaching the catapult.

“We’re going to need to turn back,” Molotov realized. There was practically no way they had the power to break through the dwarven magic. He looked down and saw a morass of bodies, both dwarves who were unfortunate enough to be crushed under friendly fire, and demons that had fallen to the mess of arrows and stones. The mutant exhaled deeply. “We still can’t,” he realized again. There was no way they could turn their back, not if it meant so many demons had died on a failed mission.

“Target their sodding sorcerers,” Molotov shouted. “Also would someone tell Zieg what’s bloody going on, we’ll need some damn new orders after this.”

At this point, the mutant didn’t know what to do. In one on one combat, he was a clever strategist, but there was a reason that he had given up serving as a general since the Gisela open.

[Zieg dil' Tulfried]

Zieg, Zaketh and the few soldiers still living pushed back further into the city. The east gate was a good distance away by now, what shards of it that were left. The barrage of flaming rock was slamming down all around them, tossing cobbled stone all about. Zieg stared through a bloody eye at the carnage all around him. While his body was being torn about on the outside, his soul was being eaten away on the inside.

The Demon Army High General was failing. He was not able to protect his people and his home. The dwarves were winning and it did not appear that there was anything he could do. The Demon Army was outnumbered and overwhelmed. They had no way to hold their ground and those who were still living were bruised and exhausted. Even Zaketh, whom Zieg saw as the strongest man alive, was breathing heavy and looked incredibly downhearted.

Still, Zieg looked to the sky and saw Molotov followed by several demons of the Special Forces atop the army’s flying Magim Beasts. They flew at the flying rocks, using magic to take out a few of the rocks. Despite a majority of them falling to the projectiles and the dwarves own magic, they flew on. Molotov led the men toward the catapult, but they were pushed lower and lower by earth magic.

There would be no way that they could make it past the giant barrier that had been erected, so it would be likely that they would be landing near where Zieg and Zaketh had taken their forces. Zieg hoped they would, the Magim Beasts fire breathing ability would be a great asset to keep them alive.

The demons found themselves in the center of the city, directly in front of the burning Demon Army Headquarters. Zieg shook his head, trying to decide what to do. Glancing behind him, he saw another large demon force heading toward them. The dwarves hadn’t come after them yet, probably to reorganize their forces, which gave Zieg a chance to approach the oncoming force. His spirit lifted as he saw Johannan ag’ Tranta leading equally weary forces.

“So glad I found you, sir. I had the beast trainers take the Magim Beasts out of the city so the dwarves would not be able to take advantage of their skills. The western gate has fallen and the dwarves have breeched the walls. These are the only men I have left. The entire western city is ablaze.” Johannan pointed his scythe toward the west. “We will not survive this onslaught much longer. We need reinforcements!”

Zieg nodded and allowed the tip of his blade to sag to his side. “I sent Kaza to Vla’toros for help, but it is a good hour ride from Vla’toros to here. We cannot wait for that.” Zieg took a deep breath and felt like crying. “We… have to evacuate. You take as many men as you need to get all of the citizens to the castle and out the secret tunnels. I’ll hold the dwarves as long as I can.”

Silence radiated between Zieg’s two generals as they stared back and forth at each other. They looked so down, but finally nodded and began barking orders to the remaining men. They ran down the main road toward the castle, stopping at various houses to get the residents out of the city. Soon Zieg was left with just five men and the dwarves had begun their second assault, this time a joint effort from both the east and the west. Zieg and the men began to slowly back down the road toward the castle, when Zieg had an idea. Concentrating deep within the earth, he found a pocket of magma, which he continued to call up from the ground.

The intersection of the roads soon became covered by magma, bubbling up from under the cobbled road. The dwarves rushed in, not seeing the magma in time. The molten substance burned many horribly, but still they pressed on toward Zieg and his few men. He muttered quietly under his breath.

“Hold your ground men. The city is counting on you.”

[Molotov]

“So bloody hell,” Molotov muttered. They had taken a second pass towards the catapult and were deterred again. He had sent a pair of ice shards at the dwarves, and he was making limited progress at eliminating the dwarven sorcerers. He had already lost two other demons, and now the few magim beasts they had left were likely a very prized commodity.

“We won’t survive many more rounds,” one of the demons mentioned to him telepathically before crashing down to the ground.

Molotov shuddered. There had been an incredible loss of life for such a pyrrhic mission. He could only imagine the shame of returning back with this mission as a failure. However, the mutant knew now that the only thing that kept the soldiers continuing to fight was their willingness to obey him. The fact that he’d approached them with information and confidence had kept them loyal, and now patriotism kept them from even considering the possibility of failure.

It was a shame. “Too many bloody hero stories where people have to push the odds…” Molotov thought. He looked back towards Zieg dil’Tulfried. It seemed that whatever would happen with the catapult, they would need to hold his line. Molotov knew that the longer they stayed hovering uselessly, the less likely they were going to help anyone.

“What do we do… what do we do?” another demon asked him. “There are more sorcerers now than us!” Prospects were growing bleaker and bleaker. The sky seemed to be a mess of falling rocks and arrows. The dwarves sensed blood, Molotov didn’t doubt that the entirety of the dwarven army wanted to take credit for being the one that had brought down a member of the demon special force. It was just normal nature of the demons.

Knowing nothing else to do, Molotov pulled back the reigns on Cocktail so that he was level with the other demons. “What are they bloody fighting over, do you think we could try some sodding negotiation? These sods are going to kill us all otherwise.”

“Then they kill us all…” one of the demons replied. “They just attacked out of nowhere, explosions rocked the city.”

“Don’t even know their enemies,” Molotov thought. “What have I bloody got myself into?” The mutant knew he was going to have to make the decisions. He doubted anyone else was really smart enough. “We have to retreat,” Molotov replied tersely. “Shoot any kind of magic as we go, but Zieg and the demons holding the base are going to need us…”

“But the catapult!” the demon protested.

Molotov sighed. “We’ve done enough. The bloody catapult was damaged by their rocks and bloody earth magic. They won’t be using that soon. We’ve revealed their mages and killed a bunch of those sods. Now we have to go help Zieg…”

The other three demons remained silent as if they were unsure.

“Bloody time to go,” Molotov said decisively.

“Alright,” one of the demons said.

They then headed back towards Zieg, hailing fire and ice as they surged back to help Zieg.

[Zieg dil' Tulfried]

The stout dwarves came at Zieg, legs burnt and marred. The demon had no idea how they were able to keep walking due to the excruciating pain they had to be in. There had to be hundreds of them. The magma upon the ground was beginning to cool as the dwarves kept coming at them. The first of them came to the demon’s stand and the onslaught began.

Zieg ducked beneath the broad swing of the first of his numerous opponents. Stabbing the Gamygym deep into the gut of the dwarf, Zieg slid the Rohtan out of its sheath with his flaming left hand. Pulling the other weapon from the dwarf’s chest, he spun his other arm around to parry another strike. The dwarves swarmed the demons as they fought valiantly on the bloody battleground. Buildings burned all around in the red tinted glow of Haidia.

Screaming aloud, Zieg punched a flaming fist into another dwarf before turning to block another blow to his right. A massive axe dinted his arm as it bounced away. Zieg cleanly sliced and cauterized his neck with the Gamygym. He swung the Rohtan at the approaching foes, releasing a burst of wind out at them. They slid backwards, slamming their weapons into the ground to hold their positions.

I need more men. Zieg glanced to one side as another demon had his arm sliced off by a dwarven axe. Wait, I can have more men. Zieg parried another blow and slid backwards a few feet, away from the nearest dwarves. He pointed the Gamygym at the ground, releasing two narrow beams of light at the ground in front of him. Two beings identical in appearance to Zieg appeared before him, each armed with two blades. They rushed forward to enter into the fray.

The High General saw one of his last three men struggling to hold off his dwarven foes, so he rushed to help the soldier. Zieg parried a strike that would have cleaved off the demon’s head, and slammed his other blade into the creature’s chest. Two more axes were swung at the two demons and each blocked one of the blades. The sweat beaded on the demon knight’s brow. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

The ground beneath his feet began to quake, then the earth cracked and Zieg, his three men and two doppelgangers were tossed into the air by a massive line of rock that instantly rose three feet into the air. Zieg’s helmet flew from his head, revealing his crimson locks, blood red eyes, and the diamond headpiece that showed he was the High General. Upon impact with the ground, the two doppelgangers disappeared with a puff of black smoke. The wall of earth disappeared as quickly as it appeared, revealing the large army that plagued the city. Zieg glared at the dwarves as he slowly rose to his feet.

The four demons that remained huddled together, blades pointed outward, slowly backing toward the castle. A particularly ugly dwarf picked Zieg’s helmet up off of the ground and raised it into the air, screaming raucously. Fury surged in the demon, but it was quickly quenched by the despair of defeat.

“We cannot survive much longer. Even if we had help, we would still be defeated by this force. We must retreat back to the castle. I can only hope that Zaketh and Johannan have had a chance to get everyone out.”

[Molotov]

By the time that Molotov had managed to return to Zieg, all but one of the demons in the special task force were dead. Both Molotov and the demon were wounded, though Molotov had emerged considerably less damaged. He was completely embarrassed. “I knew I bloody kept you out too long, damned sods! Why did those bloody dwarves have to have sorcerers why??” He was furious at the thought of losing so many of the demon army’s finest, especially since he wasn’t even a member of the demon army.

However, now was not a time when he could afford to wait. The dwarves were surging through despite every attempt by Zieg dil’Tulfried and the rest to bar them from entry. Even through the flames, the dwarves were surging through, almost as if they were willing to run through hell just to get at the demon castle.

Molotov just sighed. He hadn’t seen soldiers so determined before, and now they were fighting on both sides of the battle. While Zieg seemed to be a general of both wisdom and reason, those were two quantities that the mutant thought were generally lacking from the battlefield. Now, Molotov felt like his own rationality was slipping away. He stood now on the stairs of the castle, watching as the demons retreated.

“You go,” he said, turning to the sole survivor of his failed mission. “Bloody don’t look back and find somewhere to hide yourself in the castle. Just bloody get out of here so you don’t have any regrets… you can live to fight another day, alright?”

The demon gulped emotionally, as if it was a struggle to conceive of a Vainta overrun by dwarves. However, Molotov glanced at his remaining comrade with nothing other than stern authority. “Do it,” Molotov said, restraining himself from reaching out and shaking some sense into the demon. “Bloody do it before everything else here goes to rot…”

“What about you?” the demon asked.

“I’m going to fight this through,” Molotov replied.

“Then I stand with you,” the demon answered.

“Bloody well you won’t,” Molotov said and without another word, the mutant surged through the mess of demons who were making Vainta’s last stand. Engendered by the soldiers that had fallen before him and with tears of utter frustration in his eyes, Molotov looked on at the dwarves that were still rushing through the flames. Quickly, Molotov struck his adze on the ground and lit it, and prepared to take a stand.

However, there was little he could do there with ice magic. Fire was the only thing that seemed to have any effect on the dwarves, and as Molotov brought his adze straight into the crisped flesh of the dwarves that made it through the fire, he couldn’t help but think that if the fire was somehow just that much stronger and wider, that none of the dwarves would make it through.

“It’s our last chance,” the mutant thought. They were greatly overwhelmed, but a ring of fire might be their protection. If the dwarves were so obsessed that they were willing to run through flame for their cause, Molotov figured that they would rather die running through a ring of fire than attempt a more strategic siege.

However, the mutant had given up fire magic a while ago. Before he’d come to Shanleh, even before entering into the Adventurer’s Crown. Fire magic had consumed him for a while, it had stoked his rage and sense of justice to the point where the mutant had grown into nothing more than a slave of his passions and whims. He hadn’t just killed, but he had murdered, and all of Althanas had suffered as a result of his actions. His time in Shanleh had offered spiritual redemption, and this emergence in Haidia now was the start of his attempt to earn back everything he’d lost. He’d come to make amends, and he’d found that good intentions weren’t enough.

“Well they bloody should be,” Molotov shouted, as his eyes inflamed with passion and burned a bright red. Curls of flame began to dance in the mutant’s palm, and they grew bigger and bigger. The flame on the mutant’s adze began to dance more wildly, and there was even a noticeable effect on the flames surrounding the area.

Molotov smiled, and laughed dryly, as if he was more than pleased with his own power. “I can do this…” he shouted. “Bloody hell… I can do this!”

[Zieg dil' Tulfried]

The air was filled with the overwhelming stench of ash and blood. Images of Zieg's failure were all around him, a dead child half devoured by flames, the burning Demon Army Headquarters, the massive holes in the walls of the city. He had let his people down, and the dwarves were making him regret he had ever taken over as the High General.

Zieg held his two blades out, one in his healthy right arm, the other in his flaming left arm. His men were huddled behind him, swords at the ready. He had a duty to his last remaining men, to get them out alive. Without a look, he spoke aloud to them, strength and honor filling his words.

"Go. Run back to the castle. Survive to fight another day." The men looked startled at his orders. "But, sir," the first began but Zieg shook his head.

"That is an order, soldier. Go." The three men nodded solemnly before turning and running toward the castle. The dwarves did not wait another moment before running full speed at the High General. Zieg exclaimed aloud, and jumped into the battle with all of his strength.

Parry, slice, duck, stab. The demon knight fought with all of his might to stay alive. The longer he fought, the deeper the dwarves penetrated his defense. One axe slid through his left arm, though not severing the engulfed limb, it did send shockwaves of pain through his body. He dropped to his knees, holding his left arm tight to his chest. His left he used pettily to protect himself from the barrage of blows.

It was over, Zieg had nothing left. One particularly large dwarf charged at Zieg, knocking his backwards and flat on his back. Both of his blades were knocked away and he was defenseless. In a last ditch effort to protect himself from an enemy that had him surrounded, he tucked his knees under his chin and held them tight with his arms. Closing the blood red eyes that intimidated most people, he saw only one thing. Kaza.

I cannot die yet. Kaza needs me. He needs his father. Excruciating pain overtook the demon as his very soul burst forth from his body. Fire, a pure and true flame burst from his body, in a sphere that grew massive in strength, intensity, and size. Screams of pain erupted from Zieg's mouth as this shield took shape. It overtook everything within a fifty yard radius in all directions, until there was nothing left within. It then withdrew back into Zieg's body, emitting a smoke so black that it was darker than night within. It was then and there that Zieg lost consciousness.

((Finally was able to post. Feel free to bunny Zieg back to the castle, or wherever. There is nothing left within a fifty yard radius of the demon. Scorched Earth is all that is left.))

[Molotov]

Molotov looked on as Zieg began to fight through the crowd. The mutant had done his best to provide some cover with fire balls and other kinds of dancing flames, but it was to no avail. The high general was fighting like a man possessed, not just for patriotism but for the family that he loved. The mutant shuddered. It was an awesome sight, to see someone that dedicated that they not only would put themselves in that kind of danger, but that they could somehow fight to survive.

The dwarves were getting closer and closer, and then suddenly, Zieg erupted within a giant radius of flame. Molotov looked on, wide eyed and searching for some way of survival when Cocktail swept up onto the scene and let the mutant grab reflexively onto his leg. Molotov sighed, desperately relieved as sweat fell profusely from his brow. Only seconds later, the ground where he’d stood had been reduced to nothing but ash.

After letting the initial feeling of relief subside, Molotov picked himself up onto Cocktail. The entire battlefield below seemed frozen, the dwarves’ entire front line incinerated by Zieg’s awesome power. Molotov himself was forced to merely look on impressed for a few moments before he could regain his wits.

“Bloody hell…” he muttered. “And I didn’t even think this sodded country could be any more of a wasteland…”

Sarcasm aside, Molotov thought back to his own flames that he’d created only a few seconds ago. They seemed so pithy in comparison, yet they represented an even greater danger. The same thing that caused him to kill, to grow obsessed with murder, it was still inside him whether or not he wanted to believe that it was there. Water magic or not, fire was a part of the mutant that would be there for life.

Had it been up to Molotov to rescue Zieg, it would have been unlikely it would have happened. The entire event had dumbfounded the mutant to such a large extent that Molotov merely sat blankly as Cocktail swooped downwards to pick up the demon. It was only after a deliberate whinny that Molotov came to his senses and picked up the demon general.

The mutant shook his head, slightly amused. “Bloody hell!” he exclaimed. “You smell like a sodded roast gone wrong!”

Cocktail wasted no more time and flew back towards the castle as the hoarde of dwarves began to come to their senses and regroup.

[Zieg dil' Tulfried]

When Zieg awoke moments after the massive explosion, he found himself feeling nothing. The pain had subsided, leaving only a very hollow feeling within the demon. He felt very lightheaded and almost weightless, in fact the only feeling he did have was a slight pinching of his shoulders. I must be dead.

However, after he opened his eyes, the knight did not find himself in a blissful utopia as one would imagine. He looked down over the desolate city of Vainta, down at the massive burnt circle as the after effect of the massive blaze which had escaped his body. The large demon was quite confused, one moment he is about to be destroyed by the dwarven army, the next he is flying high above the city.

Twisting his head around, he looked up at his transportation. Molotov rode upon his massive bird, which had the demon in its grasp. Seeing the mutant and his familiar forced Zieg to think of Xeppa, and about how much he missed the Magim Beast pup right then. He only hoped he and Kaza had made it safely from the city to Vla'toros.

The monstrous bird carried Zieg and Molotov toward the castle and the rest of the demons. The demon was dropped down inside the iron gates of the castle, which had been torn down in the chaos. One of the guards lay there impaled on his own staff. Zieg had no time to mourn the dead though and rushed into the castle, hoping Molotov was following close behind.

The castle itself was in shambles, many of the dwarves flaming rocks had been aimed at the castle. This led to many of the walls to be knocked down and everything to be tossed aside. Zieg rushed through the broken corridors toward the throne room and the rest of the demons. He barrelled his way under falling stone and over broken chairs and tables. Finally he made his way into the throne room.

Only to find his method of escape to be blocked. One of the many barrages had knocked down the back wall of the throne room down onto the pristine floor. It covered the floor with a stone and rubble, completely blocking the hidden passageway beneath the throne itself. The demon knight had no idea whether his men had escaped or not, or whether the tunnel had collapsed. All he could do was try to think of an alternate plan, and quick.

"Molotov. It is just the two of us now. The path is blocked and the dwarves are heading this way. Any suggestions?"

[Molotov]

Molotov cringed. He knew time was of the essence and nothing was coming to mind quickly. There didn’t seem to be many ways out of the city. The gates were so swollen with refugees it had been difficult enough for Molotov to get in on a flying horse. There would have been no way that he would be able to escape along with Zieg.

Hoping that Cocktail might offer some solution, the mutant looked back at the steed. Though the asperi had fought valiantly along Molotov’s side, it was readily apparent that the creature was in no condition to fight any more. Cocktail’s entire body glistened with sweat, and the horse’s eyes seemed as if they were pleading for an opportunity to rest.

“Bloody hell…” Molotov realized as he looked at his loyal ally. “You bloody went and tired yourself all out…” The mutant realized that whatever plan of escape he could come up with, he couldn’t afford to use the steed.

Time was of the essence. Molotov began to breathe more rapidly as he scoured his brain for a solution. Though Zieg had only asked the question a few seconds ago, it seemed to Molotov like he had spent the last half hour fuming silently for a solution. Suddenly, something came upon the mutant. Molotov wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, all he cared about was the fact it was an idea.

“Cocktail, GO!” Molotov shouted. He smacked the asperi on the rear. “Move and bloody move quickly… I don’t want to see you around here.”

Cocktail at first whinnied in surprise, but the beast soon got the hint and rose up into the sky. Molotov knew that it would be risky, but he felt that both he and the steed had better chances of survival if they were separated. Knowing he’d need to explain his actions, the mutant turned towards Zieg.

“That will buy us some time, but we’re going to have to bloody run…” Molotov said. “We have to head for the labyrinth… either run there ourselves or let the bloody dwarves capture us and take us there…”

Molotov hoped Zieg wouldn’t ask about how it was that he’d known about the labyrinth. While the mutant was well aware that his exploits in the Gisela were common knowledge throughout Althanas, he hoped that some of the more unsavory aspects of his criminal record were lost upon the demon high general. Since they were going to need to trust each other, the mutant thought that it would be best that they try to stay as amicable as they were now.

“Problem with knights is they always think with their morals, even in times like this…” Molotov knew. He couldn’t help but muse that if they were to escape, it would rely on him to provide the wits. Zieg could provide fantastic brawn, so he would be necessary. Still, Molotov knew they were going to have to move.

[Zieg dil' Tulfried]

The fact that he hadn't thought of the Labyrinth was proof to Zieg of how tired he was. Had he been at his best, he would have made that decision instantaneously. He rubbed his face with his hand and directed Molotov toward the next room. He pulled open the large wooden door and went through the opening. Loud voices emanated from the room they left, increasing the demon's pace.

He knelt down before a massive wooden board which covered about a third of the floor. Zieg pulled on the large iron ring which was attached to the board, lifting it up to reveal a dark hole. The voices were joined by various crashing noises as the dwarves searched the throne room. The demon ushered Molotov into the hole, and turned one last time to look back at the castle. Shaking his head in disgrace, he leapt into the hole.

He landed in a slimy pool of water, which slid off of his armor as he stood. He knew the layout of the Labyrinth by memory, and he led the way through the dank maze, lit only by the flame of the Gamygym. The gruff dwarven voices even echoed down to them. The demon knight knew that they had to move if they wanted to escape. As they ran, Zieg explained exactly where they were.

"Even though the main entrance to the Labyrinth is under the Demon Army Headquarters, this entrance exists as a halfway point out if you will. If we take a few correct turns, we should find ourselves out of here in no time. I just hope that all of the creatures we keep out here have long since escaped in the chaos." He ushered Molotov this way and that toward the exit and, eventually, freedom.

How can this be happening? The Demon Army was once the most feared and respected military on Althanas, but now we've been reduced to running like scared children. If Rakthean were still here... well... if Rakthean were still here, the dwarves would have been destroyed by now. He did so well for Haidia, and I've let him down. Vainta has fallen, the demon race has fallen, and it's all my fault. Zieg began to feel the weight of the burden Rakthean had placed upon him nearly a year earlier. Rakthean had had so much faith in him, but apparantly the older demon had expected too much. The great Zieg Tulfried. A fool. Zieg grabbed hold of the diamond headband that signified his position as high general and tugged it off of his forehead. He threw it to the ground, covering it with the muck from the depths of the Labyrinth. It meant nothing anymore, he had destroyed all worth it had by wearing it. Haidia needed to move on, and so did he.

[Molotov]

Molotov wasn’t sure what to think as he entered into the labyrinth. It was a dangerous part of their journey now. They were a bit safer than they were before, but not safe enough yet. This was the kind of time where complacency could take over for better judgment, something that the mutant felt he could ill afford. “Best keep my thoughts to myself,” he figured. “Can’t afford to think about anything here, like the fire, the soldiers dead… I have to do what I need to survive.”

However, now that he had escaped the dwarves for the time being, Molotov felt as if he could keep a niggling uncertainty buried for no longer. What did it mean that he’d used his fire ability? Was he losing control of himself, and was he bound to end up a murderer again? Why did he care so much about what had happened in Haidia? He wasn’t from the continent, he had few friends there, and the mutant was essentially ambivalent to whether or not the area was controlled by demons or dwarves.

“It’s all because of redemption,” Molotov thought. He realized what a double edged sword his life had become. He had been so overwrought with desires that he had justified the murders of countless people. Now that he had been looking for some way to redeem himself, he had found that the desires for redemption could be just as corrupting. It was greed either way, and greed was a particularly dangerous emotion. It brought blinders with it. If Molotov had learned anything until this point, it was that mindlessness was his biggest flaw. It wasn’t that he was a bad person, it was the carelessness that caused him to do bad things.

For a few moments, Molotov had been blinded by the sacrifice of his fellow soldiers. Watching them die had left the mutant thinking about how to honor their memories, not about the bigger picture. It was only at this point that the mutant remembered that he was just as ignorant to the ways of the dwarves as was the soldiers he had fought alongside.

Now that they were in the labyrinth, Molotov figured that he had to know. He only hoped that Zeig would have these answers for him. As the mutant looked around this new landscape, looking at the mess of tunnels and turns without being particularly sure where they should be going, he asked Zeig not about the future, but in order to make sense of the past.

“Well looks like we’re out of there,” Molotov began. “Let’s find our way out of this bloody place, eh? Anyhow… what was going on with those short little buggers up there? Whaddya do to them, stick them in the rot areas near the vampires? Never thought I’d see dwarves that bloody suicidal. Not surprising though, dwarves are bloody annoying little creatures…”

Figuring that might be a bit harsh of a way to start off conversation with a relative unknown, Molotov lightened it with a bit of small talk. “We should be fine in the long run eh? I’m sure we both want out of here…” However, after he said that, Molotov realized how stupid it was to come up with a statement like that. He had no intention of opening up an ugly wound, and there was a jarring question that begged asking. What would happen to a high general who had lost the territory his army controlled?

[Zieg dil' Tulfried]

The question Molotov asked caught Zieg off-guard, for noone had asked about that in the longest time. It had become common knowledge throughout the demon underworld. Zieg figured that the dwarves would have no way of finding there way through the Labyrinth to catch them without losing their way several times, so he slowed his pace down to speak with the mutant. He glanced down at the stone floor and began his tale.

"Well, about eighteen hundred years ago, roughly five generations, the demons were banished to the caves below Althanas after their defeat in the Demon War. Noone believed there to be any way out of this place, beyond the portals, and so the demons began to settle down. However, sometime before we arrived, the dwarves had made their way down here. A nasty war broke out, and the demons decimated the dwarves, killing many and taking others as slaves. Time went by and everyone believed the dwarven threat to be extinct. The slave trade fell by the wayside and eventually all of the dwarves were freed."

Zieg lifted the Gamygym at an intersection to get his bearing. He began to feel the cooler air from outside, and knew they were getting close to the exit. He continued forward, still teaching Molotov a bit of history.

"Recently, reports began to come in of attacks on the outlying villages around Haidia. We had no way to know who was attacking, for they left noone alive. By this time, High General Rakthean dil' Taros had felt secure enough to send out a bulk of the Demon Army out to scout this large area. Well, that began our downfall," Zieg continued.

"After Rakthean died last year, and I took command, we encountered a small dwarven army just north of Vla'toros. The dwarves were defeated there, and I believed they were finished forever, but as you can see, I was wrong. I just cannot figure out where they have been hiding all this time. You would think I would know about such a massive force anywhere nearby."

Zieg led them from the Labyrinth, out into the open air to the west of the city. He glanced back and could see Vainta still burning. A stake had been raised high above the city and his helmet had been set upon it, like a beacon to the underworld that he had failed. He shook his head and began to head on to the villages to the east. "That ignorance was my, and the demon's, downfall.

[Molotov]

Even though they had escaped from the labyrinth Molotov shuddered. He didn’t much care for the image of dwarves lying in wait. It seemed a bit too much like bedbugs. “That’s a bloody shame,” he replied. “It's not just ignorance. Feuds are bound to turn sometime. Everytime it happens, people decide to hate and they just continue. It’s like something that no one could ever stop, because the people doing it, they don’t get it. Ask a thousand fanatics, and everyone of them is right and just in their own damn mind…”

Now, they had emerged out from the labyrinth. Molotov took a deep breath, wondering what would happen next. He had never really known the real Vainta, the people who lived there day after day, mothers, children and fathers, all of whom were probably just as confused and troubled as he was. Yet, they all persevered, without mutations, without stories of heroism, without having been intercontinental murderers. Those were the people Molotov felt himself miss. He wasn’t sure why, but now when he thought back on what had happened in Vainta, it was these people he thought of. People who Molotov could never meet.

Not wanting to think about it, Molotov lit himself a cigarette and brooded. The villages in the east looked considerably more inviting than anything else, but the mutant doubted they could ever truly be home to the people of Vainta. As smoke exhaled out his nose, Molotov realized that above all else he felt guilty. Not because he would no longer be able to gain the redemption of the people of Vainta for the murders he’d committed there, but because the people who had started this war were eerily similar to him. They were all caught up in their tunnel vision. Molotov thought of the dwarves who died. Surely their leaders would call them the honored dead, their families would be honored and told that their loved ones died in the name of a new found republic. Still, it would be no consolation. There was never any solace for the families of the dead, not for the demon army or the dwarves.

There was also no solace for the families of the mutants that Molotov had lead into battle at Gisela.

However, this was something Molotov had no intention of talking about with Zeig. The general wasn’t even his friend, let alone some kind of psychologist. The mistakes Molotov had made then would be impossible to redeem. There could be no justice among such cruel individuals. Instead, Molotov silently wiped a tear from his eye, shoved his sunglasses back into position and was about to bid farewell. However, moments before he could get to the last step, Molotov heard the sounds of footsteps. Immediately, he froze. Warily, Molotov held his hand up so as to silence any reply that would have come from Zeig, and hissed a whisper.

It was not a dwarf some kind of labyrinth creature. The footsteps were far too delicate to be that of a dwarf. Dwarves had the tendency to move like they were scraping the earth with every step they took, while these steps were considerably neater. Almost like quick raindrops or hailstorms. Molotov knew exactly what kind of a creature it was that made that kind of a noise.

“Tromboli,” he said. Molotov grabbed his adze and struck it on the ground. There was one last creature to kill before the mutant could leave Vainta behind.

[Zieg dil' Tulfried]

Zieg heard the high-pitched tapping long before he saw the massive creature. It was a sound unlike any other, like glass on rock. Zieg spun around quickly, blade already in hand to face the spider-like Tromboli. He had faced and defeated a Tromboli before, and he knew its weakness. Still, the demon was in no mood to face such a beast. In fact, the situation threw him over the edge.

The calculating, intellegent man was gone, in its wake was a mindless beast. A bloodcurtling cry left his throat as he ran at the Tromboli. With razor-sharp legs longer than Zieg was tall, they stood as deadly pillars between Zieg and his goal, its vulnerable body. The Tromboli swung one of its mighty legs at Zieg, which he blocked with his blade, leaving a hollow echo of the impact.

Dancing backward, the predator stabbed at the berserk demon with two of its front legs, one which Zieg narrowly avoided, the other which pierced his foot. Pain flurried up his leg as he fell flat on his stomach. All air in his lungs quickly escaped, leaving him out of breath and with flashes of light before his eyes.

He rolled to the left, yanking his foot from the spider's grasp. Getting to his feet, he searched for air, trying hard to breath. Finally, his lungs opened and he took a deep breath. The Tromboli was far from willing to let him recover. The two front legs came across the other, to form a crude scissor maneuver which attempted to slice Zieg in half at the waist. The demon pulled the Rohtan from his belt and held both blades flush against his arms. The legs closed in on Zieg, but were unable to slice into his armor.

His muscles ached as he pushed the blades slowly away from his arms. With a quick move, he used the blade in his right hand to knock away the leg on his left and vice-versa. With the legs out of the way, he had an open shot at the joints, which he took full advantage of. He slammed his blades deep into the sinewy tissue of the joints, cutting deeper into them until he felt no resistance and the limbs fell to the ground.

The creature cried out in pain and took several steps back on its remaining legs. With his senses returned to him, Zieg could only hope that Molotov had taken advantage of the distraction the demon knight had given him.

[Molotov]

Molotov was a bit surprised by the way the Tromboli had gone after Zeig, but it was a pleasant surprise. It gave Moltoov some options, some time to think and come up with the correct offensive maneuver. When Molotov had been in the labyrinth before, he had been forced to fight one of these creatures, but that had been a different time. This one was bigger, less brittle. The other had been distracted and injured from a previous altercation. Molotov had none of the same luck this time.

Instead, Molotov had Zeig on his side now. The demon general was certainly brave, brave enough that his courage could potentially border on stupidity. “Or just suicide,” Molotov wondered. Subconsciously, as if by reflex, Molotov was conjuring a small ice spike in his hands. It was sharp, but perhaps not sharp enough to slice through the chitin of the tromboli. Before when Molotov had fought the creature, he had used the power of fire to roast the tromboli alive. Now, that option wasn’t available for him.

The spike shot out from Molotov’s hands, straight at the backside of the tromboli. The ice shard shattered, like it had been made of nothing more than glass. The attack was so feeble that the creature didn’t even seem to take its attention away from Zeig.

“Stupid bugger,” the mutant cursed. There would be little opportunity for him to use his water powers on this creature. Nothing he had was of that kind of magnitude, perhaps there was nothing within his entire arsenal that would help in this kind of a situation. Reflexively, Molotov shuddered. He wondered how much farther along in his fire abilities had he never forsaken them. He would have been able to stop this tromboli now, been able to fight against it.

Molotov had seen that the flames were still within him, no matter how much he had tried to hide them from himself. They had come out in the battle against the dwarves, as a supplementary force to that of Zeig. Molotov could bring them out again, and now it looked as if he would need to. There would be no other way to defeat this powerful creature.

With that, Molotov bit his lip. He didn’t like what he was going to have to do, but he was going to have to do it anyways. Zeig had provided him with a precious few seconds worth of opportunity, and the mutant knew he was going to have to take advantage from them. With the same hands that had murdered countless millions, Molotov’s eyes shone a passionate orange and whipped up a fiery tornado within his hands.

The mutant shuddered. He wasn’t sure what had become of himself. Molotov certainly didn’t feel any different, save for the snaking feeling of regret at the Pandora’s box that he’d opened. If anything, the mutant felt a renewed sense of vigor entering into his body, a willingness to fight that hadn’t been there since his troops had fallen.

It wasn’t that Molotov was angry, it was that he was no longer cold.

With that, the mutant sent his tornado straight into the eyes of the tromboli. “Take that you stupid bastard!” he shouted gleefully, laughing as the fiery inferno headed straight for the face of the large arachnid.

The tromboli brayed in shock. It had already taken the brunt of Zeig’s attack, and now this was a perfect finish. All the flesh inside the chitin was beginning to burn, the exoskeleton popped as juices oozed out from it like a well done piece of meat. Molotov said absolutely nothing, but watched with cool satisfaction as the creature crumbled down on to the ground.

“That’s the end,” he said solemnly. Molotov didn’t know what had happened to him, nor did he think he would ever be able to explain it. However, it seemed now that fire no longer had the power over him that it once did. It would be something to analyze the next time he was in the lab, but even the rage that had erupted after the battle with the dwarves seemed to have no substantial ill effects. “Looks like we’re done here,” he summarized. “Done with Vainta…”

[Zieg dil' Tulfried]

As the beast roasted under the force of Molotov's attack, Zieg sagged back against a tree. Sweat ran down his face, and tears glistened in his eyes. The life he knew was over. His home was destroyed and he doubted he would ever go back to that ashen city. They same life always comes full circle, and this time it did. The dwarves got their revenge.

The exhausted demon had no idea where his son was either. He could only hope that Kaza and Xeppa had made it to Vla'toros and that Dera was taking care of them now. He picked himself up off of the tree and turned to the west, toward what was left of his people. Sheathing his blades, he motioned to Molotov.

"You are welcome to accompany me to the western villages to rest before you head out." Zieg turned his back on Vainta, forever.

~~~~~~~

When Dera'losta'nofa first saw Vainta in the distance, he could see that it was not a pleasant sight. Smoke rose above the city, and the normal red glow of the underground region was tripled around it as the fire lit up the area. The large platoon of demons, humans, and elves he had gathered from his city rode on however, coming closer and closer to the city.

Stopping his men before they came within sight of the lookouts of the dwarves, he glanced down at the platinum haired child in front of him. The boy slid off of the saddle of the de-winged Magim Beast and looked at the town. Dera stepped down as well, looking over at the city. A reflection of light high above the city caught his eye. Staring closely, he could make out the shape of a helmet, with what looked to be a horn.

"No..." Dera whispered.

"Papa?" Kaza asked aloud. "PAPA!?!" Kaza sagged to the ground and burst into tears, ripping at the hearts of everyone within earshot. From somewhere behind him, a loud bark erupted and a second later a small brown dog ran past. A negative light covered his body and then leathery wings shattered the light. Soon a powerful Magim Beast stood in front of Dera.

Xeppa leapt into the air heading toward the city. He flew high above the wall and made straight for the piked helmet. He grabbed the helmet with his teeth and knocked over the pike. Flying in a giant arc, Xeppa returned to land in front of Kaza and give the boy his father's helmet. Kaza held the piece of metal tight against his body and Dera lifted him back into the saddle. As he himself got back into position, he called back to the men.

"Let's keep moving. There's nothing we can do here."

[Molotov]

Molotov declined Zeig’s offer. Respectfully, but he still declined. The mutant didn’t want to be around any more defeat than he needed to. At the moment, he was happier thinking of the people of Vainta as abstract objects, displaced people that he would only read about in the next issue of the Coroning Stone. Molotov sighed, he would want to keep it that way, because every time he thought of them now, his heart was already breaking. The tromboli was dead, Vainta was in flames. Molotov wanted to see the former as a victory, the latter as little more than a glow in the background. A torched city was kinder as a beacon of personal failure than one of human suffering.

“I’m going to head for the portals,” Molotov said. “It’s time for me to leave here. Please, keep in touch with me if there’s any way I can help. I shouldn’t be hard to find if you send word to the Telthin monastery in Noka-oma, Shanleh.” The mutant wrote the address down on a piece of paper for Zeig and then bid his farewell.

As Molotov left, he put his sunglasses on, just so that his quavering eyes could be concealed. The mutant didn’t look back for a single moment, Molotov felt as if he couldn’t afford to.

-x-

The next day, Molotov was sitting in a tavern in Corone. There were a group of dwarves there, non Haidian but still jubilant at the news. They sat amongst each other, telling jokes, laughing and making fun of Zeig dil’Tulfried. Molotov was forced to bite his tongue.

“Stupid gits…” he thought disagreeably. Frustrated, Molotov asked for another cup of beer.

The bartender nodded sympathetically. “Didn’t turn out to well for you?”

The comment took Molotov aback. “Turn out well?” he asked.

“You know… in Haidia…” the bartender replied. “You were down there, weren’t you?”

Molotov nodded.

The bartender smiled again warmly. He opened a bottle of his special stock and handed it to Molotov. “On the house today,” he said. “Whatever you want.”

It didn’t matter to Molotov that he didn’t know how the bartender knew. Perhaps it was written on his face, perhaps the bartender had mistaken his eyes and coif to be that of a demon, it didn’t matter either way. Molotov had been humbled enough that he was going to accept any kind of charity, be it alcohol or a kind ear. He smiled weakly. “Thanks,” he said. He took a drink.

“Those dwarves won’t bother you,” the bartender promised. “A .22 under the desk will guarantee that…”

Molotov tried to smile, but he couldn’t. All he could do was nod appreciatively. It was clear the bartender understood. “You Haidian?” Molotov asked.

The bartender nodded. “Quarter demon, moved up a generation ago…”

Nodding, Molotov did one of the few things he was unequivocally good at. He downed the rest of the bottle in a quick gulp. “Thanks…” he said. The bartender fetched Molotov another, one that the mutant drank considerably less voraciously. Quietly the bartender and Molotov looked at each other, both of them experiencing an intangible sense of loss. Vainta was not a place to either of them any more, it was just an empty void in both their hearts.

"How'd we ever figure out what we were ever supposed to bloody do?" Molotov asked despondently.

He got no answer.

(Spoils request= Molotov gains the ability to make a fiery cyclone again. Molotov can control this cyclone telekinetically, and the cyclone can reach a height of three feet. He is also capable of preventing the heat from effecting him.)

[Zieg dil' Tulfried]

Zieg nodded his farewell to Molotov as the mutant made his way to the nearest portal. He was sure that he would be seeing him again, Molotov always seemed to show up when things went bad. Maybe next time they would be good for a change. He began his journey to the western villages to meet up with the king, his people, and the desolation that followed.

~~~~~~~

When Zieg arrived in the nearest of villages, he saw despair, sadness, hatred, and solitude. Nearly everyone there had lost their homes, family members, their entire lives. It was all Zieg's fault. The eight year old king was in that first village and ran out to the demon the moment he walked in the village. He grabbed tight around Zieg's legs, tears flowing from his eyes and down the titanium leg piece. The demon was all too reminded of his son, and knelt down to hug the young king.

He pried the Aidos from his leg and led him toward the center of the village. It appeared as though a majority of survivors had stayed in this first village, unwilling to go any further away from their homes. Zieg motioned everyone to come closer and word spread quickly. Soon, Zieg and the king were surrounded by about ten-thousand survivors, flooding out of the village and out a good distance. There would be no way they could all hear him, but he had to try.

"Citizens of Vainta. I have failed you. You trusted me to protect you and your homes and I failed. The Demon Army is in shambles. Those who stayed in Vainta are gone, and those who are exploring have not yet returned." His words were echoed through the crowd and soon everyone knew what he said. Zieg turned to the king. "I am hereby stepping down as High General of the Demon Army, your majesty. I am not worthy to serve the people of Haidia."

Aidos mumbled quietly, "But..."

A voice split the crowd like a whip. "How can you say that, Zieg dil' Tulfried? You fought valiantly to save all of these people's lives. No one knew these dwarves were coming, all thought they had gone away. Sure, everyone may have lost their homes, but they have their lives. Your quick thinking made sure this many people escaped instead of being lost to time. That is why you must stay the High General. Your people need you."

The crowd split as an elf walked up toward the demon. Behind him were several thousand armed men, demons, and elves. It was a rag-tag group, but still they came. Further behind them were thousands more, this time highly organized and flying the crest of the Demon Army. "Dera..." Zieg murmured.

"PAPA!" A boy ran forward, with a small dog close behind. He ran up the muddy street toward his father and Zieg ran toward him as well. He wrapped the boy up with his good arm and hugged him tight, Xeppa barking happily at his heels. We did not think you made it, Zieg. Xeppa said.

"You see, Zieg, your people need you," Dera said. The crowd erupted and cheered for Zieg. Kaza ran back to Dera and grabbed the helmet from the Magim Beast on which he rode. He ran back and handed it to his father.

"So, Zieg. Why don't we go take back Vainta?"

Zieg took the helmet and fitted it back onto his head. It felt so wonderful to have it back. "No, revenge is what left us without homes and lost. I think its time we returned. Returned to the surface."

[Witchblade]

Introduction: - 6.5 The introduction throws you into the story rather abruptly. There’s no explanation for what is going on besides the fact that Zieg is in the middle of a surprise attack, yet Molotov is calmly walking around asking for permission to enter Vainta. It throws the readers off since technically Molotov shouldn’t be able to walk around like that if a war is going on, but then again, I don’t know the layout of Vainta. Though it can be a great attention grabber to throw the reader directly into the action, it did not work out well in this thread. Some calmer, more collected posts at the beginning leading up to the surprise would have gone a long way and would have added to the insanity and intensity of the moment. Not to mention the actual surprise.

Setting: - 6 The setting was rarely described, yet occasionally used, but nothing impressively tactical ever came from it. Where were the tactics coming into play? You had an entire stronghold to plan some kind of offence or defence against the Dwarves as they came through. Using the Labyrinth as an escape was a good idea, but it was a little disappointing being that Zieg knew his way around and there would be no problem for them to get out. Perhaps a few missed turns here and there could have popped up because no one has a perfect memory, but who knows.

Strategy: - 5 What strategy? The only kind of in-character strategy that really came up in this quest was going into the Labyrinth. Attacking a catapult with a few demons against a force of a few thousand is not what I would call strategy, more like suicide. I didn’t see much in the way of strategy outside of the characters themselves either. There was no hidden storyline, there was no surprise ending, nothing, just two characters running around trying to do something and failing miserably at it.

Why didn’t you shake things up a bit? Yes, it’s clear by the title of the thread that in the end you’re going to lose, but perhaps a run for the money would have been in order. They were attacking your military headquarters and they were winning, easily. There should have been some kind of stand to not only drag the quest out a little more and help the pacing, but also calm down your rising action.

Dialogue: - 6 Ahh, yes, the words that we speak with our characters. There was nothing special going on in the dialogue here, in fact I eventually got annoyed with Molotov’s over use of the word ‘sod’. Yeah, it may be like the character to say something like that, but shake it up a bit and add some variety. You’d think the character himself would get tired of using the same word over and over again. Not to mention we’ve got someone here who stated he was good at motivating troops to fight, but I didn’t see much motivating going on in this quest. Just random orders being barked.

Zieg, your character’s dialogue wasn’t much better. He’s supposed to be a High General but he didn’t do anything spectacular to rally his troops up and he didn’t really say anything General like. Both of you could use some improvement in this area.

Character: - 6.5 Both of you have unique, interesting and colourful characters that didn’t really get the chance to come out in this thread. Molotov, your character was obsessed about getting back into good standing with the demon world and being accepted there, but you don’t really find out why he isn’t welcome until close to the end. Normally you could use this as a trick to add mystery to the character and his past, a grab to keep the reader reading, however it didn’t feel that way. When it was finally revealed it was done in such a way as a kind of brush off, not a big deal, thus making it pointless to have not mentioned it earlier and have kept the readers confused and in the dark.

Zieg your character was running around like a chicken with its head cut off. As a High General I would have thought him a better strategist, or even someone who knew how to position his troops around a stronghold. There was also little to no interaction between your characters, just some stoic, empty words thrown out there to fill a post.

Rising Action: - 5 This entire quest was rising action. From the opening post almost right to the end there wasn’t much of a change in the tempo or pacing of the quest and what was going on. Thus, the whole thing was rising action leading up to something I’m not even sure of. You need to have breaks between things to help mellow it out and create some kind of proper flow besides, omg death, blood, destruction and flaming things raining from the sky!

Climax: - 5 I’m still confused about what the climax of this story really was. Because there was so much rising action leading up to the actual fall of Vainta, which wasn’t that dramatic, it didn’t seem like the climax of the story. Yet neither can the fight with that tromboli be considered the climax. Personally, I don’t even know why the last battle with the spider creature was even thrown in there. It had no point; Molotov had already unleashed his fire magic proving to himself that it was still inside him, there wasn’t a huge point in putting him in a situation where he would be forced to do it again.

The actual fall of Vainta should have been a climactic and emotional moment for both characters but it was shrugged off as nothing. I could feel it from the characters, I didn’t care that the damn stronghold was overrun and that should never happen to a reader.

Conclusion: - 7 The conclusion actually wasn’t too bad. The characters parted ways, Molotov going back to the surface and Zieg heading out to find the rest of his people and renounce his position. The emotion was evident in Zieg, the King, his son Xeppa and the people there. It seemed thought out and I liked the fact that the people did not want him to step down at High General, I also like the reason for why the demons leave the underground. I think the conclusion was the best part of the quest.

Writing Style: - 6.5 Both of your writing styles are good. Zieg you need to work on adding more setting into your posts from time to time, not every post, but every now and again. The usual speech about spelling mistakes and grammar, re-read your post to get rid of those, no one’s perfect I don’t expect you to be. Also, watch out for overusing certain words, Zieg here’s your first paragraph for example:

Explosions rocked the city of Vainta as blast after blast of flaming rock pounded against the outer wall. Flames engulfed buildings throughout the city as the attack continued. The Demon Army was in chaos, scrambling throughout the city trying to determine what there(this should be their too, not there) orders were. Screams erupted from the citizens of the large city. The dwarves were attacking, and they were very well organized

The overuse of the word city is extremely apparent, perhaps not when you wrote the paragraph but when you read it over. Try to find other words for it. You could say, ‘flames engulfed the buildings, spreading from one to another as the attack continued’. You don’t need to mention the fact that it’s a city that’s being attacked, we know already.

Also, both of you should try to remember to use all the senses, perhaps not in every post, but try. Sight, smell, taste, touch, and sound.

Wild Card: - 6 Work out the pacing of your story next time before you jump into it. It looks like you didn’t really have anything planned out for this. You don’t always to have to plan out a quest, however in war and battle quests like this one it’s a good idea to have some kind of ultimate plan formulated to go by. It helps the pacing.

Total Score: 59.5

Rewards:

Molotov – you didn’t give a description about how far the cyclone can travel outwards. Since this is an old skill he seems to have found again I won’t limit it myself since you probably have the specs for it sitting somewhere. Also, make sure you include how long you can sustain using it.

Zieg dil’Tulfried receives 2,300 Experience!
Molotov receives 2,000 Experience!

[Zieg dil' Tulfried]

EXP added!