Scorched Worlds ((Closed.))

[Sword-for-Hire]

“It’s called a typewriter.”

Oberon studied the mechanical device before him. It was dusty, black, full of buttons and switches, and extremely heavy for its size. It looked like a blacksmith’s failed attempt at a box with more than one open side.

“These are keys. You press ‘em…and…”, the old man pressed the letter “k” and a small lever snapped to attention and slammed into the coarse white paper, leaving a dark “k” stamped into its surface. The old gentleman removed his dirty, labored ridden finger from the key’s face and the lever fell back into line with the rest, all waiting for their time to shine. He cracked a one tooth grin, obviously thinking about fonder times.

“When these came out…oh…sixty years ago…they were the top of the top. I used to fix these faster than they could finish writing their information down on the invoice card! Hahaha!” He laughed a hoarse and tired sound, as if the years he’d endured were ready to claim him from this world. He looked at Oberon, not able to really see him, glaucoma having set root forty years prior and left untreated until it was too late, turned him more than half blind. “Ohhh, those were the days…” he shuffled away from the lost warrior, in search of something specific. His steps were short and precise, since his vision wasn’t much better than beyond his arm’s reach, he had to make sure he wasn’t going to trip over anything and end his long lived life.

Oberon blinked away dust that began to settle around his eyes. The “typewriter shop” was old, apparently over forty years in business and apparently needing a desperate coat of paint. The front room was small, not much bigger than an office and the rug beneath his boots seemed to have boasted “I’m green!” forty years ago. Now it mumbled, “I’m…I was green…” It reminded him of a swamp just before the fog settled in and the smell wasn’t any better. Chemicals unidentifiable clouded the warrior’s sense and gave him the beginnings of a headache, but he tried to ignore it. The old man seemed kind enough to strangers or perhaps he saw him as a potential customer.

“World War II!” The shop owner suddenly exclaimed it as if he’d been asked a question to which would allow him access to a grand prize. “That’s when those typewriters were the most useful! They came in suitcases and were reliable even after a shell bombing!” He laughed hoarsely again, still in search of something, still shuffling along.

As Oberon stood near the small entrance, a clipping of pair caught his eye as the wind breezed by the tiny shop. Stepping closer, he read, “Local Santa Claus Ready for New Year”. A picture of the shop owner in a modest hat and thin read sweater featured him in an article about his contributions to the community over the past few decades. Maybe he really is a nice man.

“Hah!” Oberon’s eyes jolted towards the man, who’d apparently located his target and shuffled over to the large stranger in a hurry. “You’ll love this!” He held in his wrinkled and dry hand a white bag, with another brown bag in it; on the outside of the white fragile looking bag it said “El Pavo”. “Here! It’s sweet bread! My grandson Ruben Jr bought me some before leaving for work with his father. His father is a good man. Helps me so much and I’m glad to see his son is helping him…but oh! The bread! It’s called…pan dulce.” He said the last two words with an accent Oberon could not identify. “It’s delicious!”

Accepting the bag and reached in and produced a round shell shaped piece of bread that felt hard on the outside. “That one is called a concha! Try it!” The old man’s one toothed smile was radiating, as if he’d help yet another soul through its journey of life with a simple snack. Figuring nothing worse could happen, he bit into the surprisingly soft bread. As soon as he’d penetrated its “shell”, the center was as soft as a cloud. The flavors of vanilla and sugar flooded his tongue and before he knew it, he was had taken another two bites, reducing the bread to no bigger than the center palm of his hand.

“I knew you’d like it!” The old man almost performed a small hop as he clapped his hands once in success. Licking his lips and fingers for every last crumb, Oberon said “So where am I again? Highfield Park?”

“No, Highland Park! And my name is Jesse! I founded this shop! We’re right off the 110 freeway and really close to Pasadena!” He replied as he shuffled over to his rolling chair, surrounded by stacks of papers and boxes of odd parts. “My son Ruben took over for me and now does printers…faxes…copiers…” his words began to draw long, as if he were getting tired. Suddenly, a banging sound like a sword against a metal bar erupted near the entrance door.

“Goddamnit!” Jesse said with obvious irritation. His blood shot eyes looked through his glass wall towards the street. A couple of teens were repeatedly banging the crosswalk button as if the first, second, or third attempts had been in vain. Oberon grinned slightly, curious about what this world was going to bring him. Althanas had been easy to figure out, but this place of typewriters and pan dulce were already confusing him.

“So would you like to buy anything? I got lots to sell…paper…ribbons…toner…typewriters…fax es…printers…” Jesse kept rattling on about his wares, but something about a dark typewriter sitting on a shelf a few feet from his head seemed to call out to the moon reaper. “That one.”

Jesse stopped talking and tried to follow Oberon’s finger. “Huh?” The warrior walked over to the machine, lifted it from its perch, and placed it down on a workbench near the front entrance. It was old, probably from the “World War II” days. Some of the keys were worn out, barely shadows of their former selves. It was blocky, yet smooth around the edges, with keys that jutted out of its frame like bones. Everything was visible; every gear, lever, plate, and screw. It was made for him. “How much would this cost?”

The old man smiled, not that of a greedy shop owner about to make a sale, but the way a father might let go of a daughter as she was about to walk up the aisle to her new life. “It’ll need a lot of work. Won’t be cheap…with parts and labor…I’d say between $350 to $400 hundred dollars.” Oberon wasn’t sure what dollars were, but he knew if it was the equivalent of gold, he had at least that much to spend. Oberon smiled back and shook the man’s hand. “You have a deal, sir.”


***

After leaving the shop, Oberon began to wander the streets of Highland Park once more, still confused as to what his next move should be…and thinking quickly. The people of the area all had dark skin, occasionally the lighter skinned person might pass by, but they all had the same reaction: fear. Apparently his great sword and battle gear was a frightening sight, but he wasn’t running around killing people or smashing things to rubble. He just tried to shrug it off and act as if they were the weird ones.

Until the men dressed in black uniforms operating large metal contraptions with loud flashing blue and red lights screeched to a halt in front of him as he was making his way across a street to purchase something to drink from a “Jack-in-the-Box”. As they yelled freeze and pointed very familiar looking items towards him from the protection of doors, he thought of the only thing that he could think of at the time.

Apparently…guns don’t change much from world to world…

[Jasmine]

Blue eyes stared wide-eyed at the many tall buildings as their owner walked down a sidewalk. She barely noticed the odd looks people were giving her, her weapon, or both. She had never seen buildings so tall or seen so many people gathered in one place. There were so many strange things here as well, such as the metal contraptions that moved with people inside them. She had been nearly hit by one once, but was saved when a stranger hauled her back as the moving metal object made a loud, long, obnoxious noise. The man had grumbled something about “young people” and “thinking they owned the world,” then disappeared into the crowd.

Aside from the noise and the people, she could smell food, meat in particular and headed directly for it. At the corner of two streets, she saw a man standing behind a tall cart on wheels. The smell of food was coming from the cart. The man was tall and thin with brown hair that might have been curly held up in a hairnet. She saw some words and numbers on a chart and quickly read it off to herself.

Hot dog, two point five zero. Hot dog with chili and cheese, five point zero, zero. Coke, two point five zero. What the heck is a hot dog?

Hunger and curiosity soon overcame any other decision she might have made. Walking up to the man, she asked for a hot dog and a Coke. She still wasn’t sure what either one was, but she was too hungry to truly care.

“Alright miss, that’ll be $5.”

He held her steaming hot dog on a small paper plate and waited for his money. Jasmine waited expectantly for a moment, then realized what he was waiting for. Smiling a little embarrassedly, she pulled her money out from the hidden pocket of her dark blue dress. She carefully counted out five gold pieces and looked up at him.

“Is that right? I’m not from around here, so I don’t know exactly how much $5 is.”

The hot dog man stared at the gold in his hand and mutely handed her the hot dog and Coke. Jasmine happily took the food and drink, unaware of the shock she’d given the man. Taking a bite of her hot dog, she made a sound of enjoyment and walked away, eating, drinking and gazing around herself once again.

Unnoticed by Jasmine, a few large men about her age had seen her dish out the gold. The vendor might have been to dumbstruck to realize exactly what the girl had given him, but they knew a lot of money when they saw it. Nodding and smiling at each other they began to follow the young girl, intending to wait and let her at least finish her meal.

In short order, Jasmine finished her hot dog and Coke and found a trash can. Brushing hot dog bun crumbs from her fingers, she started to turn down another street when she found herself surrounded by a wall of men.

“You look a little lost, little Miss.”

Jasmine’s eyes narrowed as she unconsciously laid a hand on the hilt of her sword. It seemed that no good jerks were no good jerks no matter where you went.

[Sword-for-Hire]

Three days earlier...


Excerpt from Oberon's Field Reports


The Hell Reapers


The Stagas

These are the standard infantry Hell Reapers. They look much like dark elves, are muscular, and their skin is red like blood. They can be as tall as 6’2” but most are around 5’11” to 6 feet. Most are proficient in hand-to-hand combat, but can also wield blades of all sorts from swords to axes. They have short black hair that is very thin and wispy and cruel hate-filled eyes.


The Allas

Much like the Stagas, except they wield no form of the blades. These are the mages of the group. They have jet black hair that is down past their shoulders, use staffs of different tiers according to their level and have a wide variety of magic ranging from the elementals to summoning minions. They wear robes and tunics and can fight with their staff if necessary.


The Garls

Look like normal infantry, except they have long spear-tipped tails with horns places all over their bodies. They have three eyes and are completely bald; very muscular but only get as tall as 5’7”. Their eyes can see perfectly in the dark and they never blink, since they possess no real eyelids; just thin films of skin to protect their eyes from dirt and dust.


The Quans

These are Hell Reapers that have been magically enhanced into creatures about 6’5" and have four arms boasting muscles from every possible place. They have bald heads, wear only leather vests and leggings and use no weapons, except for the occasional pillar or boulder. For such huge demons, they are rather fast and are experts in hand-to-hand combat, but lack the same expertise when fighting with their legs. They fight solo and never work well together when in numbers since their egos tend to get in the way.


The Deds

Fallen Hell Reapers may rise again through the use of powerful magic, but take on a new form. Their skin is now gray, their muscular bodies and strength gone, but their original speed when once alive is tripled. They have no hands but sword like ends which are equal in strength to dehlar. With whip like tails, no eyes, but sensitive hearing, these creatures can only be killed by decapitation or by killing the mage who revived it.


Oberon's mismatched eyes glinted in the candle flame's exotic dance. He'd just finished his last report on the latest batch of Hell Reapers to be created out of the twisted magic being casted in the pits on an obscure reaper base near the borders of what used to be known commonly as Haidia. What had happened to the demon city was unknown to him, except that a rogue general had led a revolt and only the gods knew how many of the popluation out of that underground oven.

The only thing he really knew was that he had to finish his studies of his enemy as discreetly as possible. Being camped only fifteen minutes from their base was dangerous, but a necessary if he was going to accurately relay this information to his allies. He’d sent word to the few remaining Grey Braves he knew about seeking their help…but it was to no avail…yet. It had been a couple months and each cold night, he’d sit in his battered tent with his candle, jotting away at the paper with his ballpoint pen (they were amazingly handy and more reliable than pencils or pens and he congratulated himself for purchasing it from the shady looking merchant at the bazaar before leaving for this place), and hoping not to be seen by the dull glimmering light.

“What were those…” he began to mumble to himself as his mind wracked around the newest creations he’d observed that day. He was still without names for them or what they were all truly capable of, “Elementals…” he began to say. Suddenly, the wind pushed violently through his poor excuse for a door and blew out his candle, leaving him in the darkness of the night.

Shit.

He knew better than anyone in the area the wind around there blew for two reasons. The first was because trouble was on the way and the second was that it had already arrived; a shuffling sound told him it was the latter.

Carefully placing his paper and pen to his left side near the still warm candle, he let his eyes adjust to the dim moonlight, soaking in all the bits of white as possible. If he was about to be ambushed, his only chance to fight back would be to transform and they might already be set to take him down in that form. Instead of leaping without looking, he focused on improving his vision first. No point in fighting blindly or foolishly when he’s come this far in his reports.

“Around…..there……go…not…..wait…..ready?” Oberon could make out faint commands being thrown about carelessly. He let out a tiny sigh of relief. It was a scouting party. They had not yet discovered who he was and the ones who’d found him were nothing more than low level infantry patrolling the area or scouting about for spies. He could deal with them without his sword or True Form ability.

Just then, the grass around him spoke up, telling him faintly of an ally close by, apparently ready to lend a hand if he needed trouble. His faint ability to understand nature had always been overlooked in his early years of fighting the Hell Reapers, but these last two months had proven their eternal worth. He smiled and silently thanked them for their help and began to creep out of his tent silently, hiding in its shadow.

In the darkness, they could not see his muscles tense underneath his chain shirt or hear its soft clink. The wind was on his side, masking even his breathing. But he could see them fairly clearly, his moon reaper latent abilities awakening with each passing day. Five of them shuffled around his home of two months, nervous but eager to test their blades against a real enemy. He crept along the shadow like a jungle cat, prowling over its prey in a tree stealthly. Stealth was never his biggest attribute, but hiding in a shadow from idiots with dull swords was not a problem.

But what Oberon couldn’t see was the creature silhouetted against the moon’s cratered quarter face. A demon just finished from the pits of their base. A new flying breed whose speed and strength could only be matched by its undeniable accuracy to see in the dark as if it were a bright sunny day.

It was almost a shame that he couldn’t see it fly in a loop, twirl, and dive for him like a hawk on an unsuspecting fish.

[Jasmine]

It had been nearly a month since she’d received the short letter asking for aid for a former Grey Brave and Jasmine was still unsure why she had decided to give the requested aid. As she trudged across the landscape, she thought back to the last days of the Grey Braves. What had become a home away from home for the runaway princess, had been destroyed in a relatively short, bloody battle. The Grey Braves’ glorious leader, Velius Demorio, had destroyed the crystal that kept their tower upright in the harsh Salvarian weather. It had not taken long for the tower to fall and for the battle to be decided.

She scowled and kicked a rock out her way rather forcefully. It had become common knowledge after the battle that Velius had destroyed the crystal before the battle had barely begun. Disgust welled up within her again at the memory. She had decided then not to bother with the Grey Braves anymore and had simply walked away. There had been rumors of some of the members getting back together, but she hadn’t cared then and wouldn’t care now. She dimly remembered the name Oberon being the name of Demorio’s second-in-command, but wasn’t entirely sure.

Again the question remained, why was she doing this? It was the fault of the leaders that the tower had begun to fall early in the battle. She had been where she’d been assigned to be, the library. There she witnessed far worse that she had ever seen before in her life. The death of her fellow Brave had not been so bad, but that the enemy then began to eat the other Brave’s corpse... Such things did not bear remembering in too great detail. Jasmine laid the fault of the fall of the Grey Braves directly at the feet of those in charge, Velius Demorio and Oberon Détruire. Of course, she wasn’t entirely certain about Oberon’s involvement. Perhaps that was why she was willing to go help him.

Now, as she drew near to where the letter said he could be found, part of her wished to be back in the arms of Zerith Dracosius, her warder and love, in their room at their fortress in Akashima. That was where she had been when the letter arrived. On seeing whom it was from and having the memory that went with the name, she had almost waited until she was alone to read it, but changed her mind. She had been most surprised to learn that anyone would seek out a former Grey Brave after she’d practically deserted the organization. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she pushed away the memory of the first time in a very long time she'd actually told Zerith that she would do whatever she wanted, with or without his permission, and definitely without his company. She hoped fervently that he would forgive her.

Annoyed with herself for not having the answer to her own questions about her own decisions, she barely noticed in time that she was very close to where Oberon had said he’d be. What startled her though was the sound of feet moving around in an awkward attempt to be stealthy.

What the heck is he doing this close to the Demon World anyway?

Assuming the worst, that either she or Oberon was being set up for an ambush, she silently pulled the knife from each boot and held it ready. She would be too close to risk using her sword and injuring her former superior in the dark. With the only light being from the moon, it was difficult to see more than tall and muscled.

A distant sound, almost like a whisper, sounded in her ear. It was something that was starting to happen more often lately, but she usually paid it no mind. Tonight, tensed as she was, she looked everywhere for what could have possibly made the sound and for a moment, she thought she saw a winged creature diving toward the ground about ten feet in front of her; it was so fast, she thought she might have been seeing things but she threw the dagger in her right hand as hard as she could, aiming for what she hoped would be the creature’s heart, if indeed a creature had been there.

I probably shouldn’t have done that, but it’s too late now!

Changing the dagger in her left hand into her, she darted forward, ready for battle.

[Sword-for-Hire]

As the demon swooped down quickly to decapitate its prey, the dagger soared swiftly through the air with a silent action. Had it not been for the moon, the monster would not have noticed the blade that glinted slightly, causing it to twist violently to the right and a bit up so as to not crash into anything. The blade did pierce its body, but not at the heart; it screamed madly as the dagger lay silently in its left side, blood trickling out at a quickly growing pace.

Oberon had stopped moving when he too saw the glint, but was unsure of what it could be; lucky for him, it was the aid of his ally. The other hell reapers standing around had lost control of patience and now leapt at Oberon almost all at the same time. Thinking quickly, he performed a now favorite close combat technique, Arctic Knuckles. Long razor sharp spikes of freezing ice jutted out of each knuckle on his hands, like brass knuckles gone wrong. He launched his body towards the nearest enemy, driving both fists deep into its chest. As the body slumped to the ground, he kept his momentum going, not wanting to stop, unsure of where the flying demon was at the moment. Could it be dead? Or was it trying to perform another sneak attack?

“Arrrghh!!!” Roared a demon as it jumped over a small rock, his sword held high over his head. As Oberon looked over his shoulder to see the oncoming attack, he made a quick 360 degree twirl while also using his first Arctic technique he’d come up with; Arctic Fist. A random assortment of icicles as deadly as finely sharpened arrows erupted out of the top of his right hand, covering it towards part of the wrist. As he came around the 180 degree area, he launched the ice from his hand, sending a volley of ice spikes straight into the demon’s upper torso and lower face.

Getting his footing back, he was about to run when something collided with him on his left side, sending him flying off his feet and into the air. When he caught his breath and realized he wasn’t falling, he refocused his vision and saw the flying demon’s face right up to his own. A malicious razor sharp smile grew on its face as it took Oberon higher and higher off the ground, intent on dropping him from a deadly altitude.

Looks like I have too… he began to think as the wind began to get colder and the moon light stronger.

“Bad idea.” Oberon growled as his skin became a blue as dark as the night’s sky and his body began to suddenly feel much heavier than before in the demon’s arms.

[Jasmine]

A small smile of satisfaction crossed her lips briefly as the scream of pain reached her ears. She still had no idea what it was that had been swooping down so quickly, but she was glad to find that she had been right. As she darted in amongst those still standing, she kept low, slicing the back of one’s thigh, just above the knee. As he fell to the ground, she whirled on one foot and stepped to the right, barely avoiding being skewered as the second of the remaining three lunged forward.

Dang it all! I just don’t have enough space!

Backing away quickly, she sheathed the small dagger and drew her sword in one fluid motion. She was far more comfortable with the longer blade. Holding it easily in one hand, she started forward again. The one on the ground was still trying to get up, but was having trouble doing so with only one good leg. The other two appeared to be somewhat wiser and spread themselves out trying to get her between them.

Where the heck is Oberon?

She glanced around quickly, but only had time to see something moving into the air. Moonlight glinted on her dark hair and well-maintained sword as she darted quickly toward the one on her left. The sounds of metal on metal rang through the night air as the two blades met again and again. In short order, Jasmine was rewarded with the feel of her blade passing through flesh and the gurgling scream of her foe as blood bubbled up in his throat. Pulling her sword free, she turned just in time to block a heavy-handed strike from the last one.

“Would you just die already!?”

Pressing forward, she attacked furiously, her sword a blur of movement. She detested those who tried to gang up on their enemy. That this creature had been trying to attack her while his comrade was already doing the same, infuriated her. The creature before her backed up under her onslaught, trying desperately to counter all her strikes. Unfortunately for it, she was far handier with her sword. She sniffed disdainfully as she felt the blade plunge into the creature’s chest and scrape along a rib before puncturing lung and heart. She put her foot against its body and pushed off, letting the corpse fall to ground.

She turned to see the one she’d hamstrung pulling himself upright, using his sword as a prop. This close to Haida, she had some idea of what these creatures were. Smiling grimly, she strode over to what Jasmine assumed was a demon; to her, the only good demon was a dead demon. Without a word, she swung her sword as hard as she could, using both hands on the leather-bound hilt. Her arms jolted somewhat as the blade resisted briefly going through the spine, but then passed on through. The head bounced twice as it hit the ground, while the body swayed for a moment before crumpling into a heap.

“Finally...”

Muttering to herself, she knelt on the ground and cleaned her sword off on the grass. She then re-drew her dagger and cleaned it as well, though she would need to clean it again after she’d had a chance to clean out the sheath. After sheathing both blades in their respective places, she turned in a circle looking for Oberon.

“Oberon? Oberon, where are you? It’s me, Jasmine.”

[Sword-for-Hire]

“Let’s bring things down a bit, yea?” Oberon grunted as his voice suddenly went deeper and harsher. His body size almost exploded to the size of a two story house, immediately surprising the flying demon that lost control of his grip.

“My turn.”

Oberon’s huge hands grabbed the demon like a child would grab a large toy. Gripping him tightly, he leaned back, turning end over end in the air. His now long black hair swirled softly in the moonlight, his attire having changed to accommodate his new size (honestly, how useful would having this be if he had to keep buying new pants and shirts?), ancient runic symbols glowing on his chest pulsating with life…all the while the demon was incapable of screaming for help. His breath had been caught in the middle of its throat like a chicken bone and he knew it was over.

Oberon grinned widely as he evened himself out in the air. They were rushing back down to the dark ground at an increasing speed. For the now huge Oberon, it was be nothing more than a medium sized drop. He’d walk away more than fine…but his hostage was not in such a position to relax. He squirmed and his eyes jolted wide with pain as the dagger that had hit him early was pushed in farther by his movements and the giant’s tight grip. In his haste to take out the moon reaper, he’d forgotten to remove the obstruction from his side and now he was going to die with even more pain right before it actually happened.

Oberon’s giant shadow flashed over the petite figure of Jasmine, who was looking for her comrade, and that was when the massive warrior extended the demon over his head, the first thing that was to hit the ground.

Jasmine’s face was facing the completely opposite direction when her ally smashed the demon into the ground at such a force, that it left a crater the size of a small pond. As the same moment of impact, Oberon released his True Form ability, returned to his normal state, and shook off his bit of dizziness that accompanied this action. As he blinked his eyes, he chuckled at the mess he was standing over; the brains and inner organs had spilt out like mush, becoming almost liquid in the violent crash. His skeletal frame was no more than crumbs and the face…was no longer existent.

Brushing off dirt and bits of bone from his chest and face, he hoisted himself out of the crater to find his ally looking at him rather shocked. He coughed into a closed fist and waved at her with his free hand. He knew the still slightly smoking crater behind him was a bit of a shock, more to how he wasn’t in the same state as his attacker, but he figured trying to explain would be waste of time and just showing her in the next battle where he had to use it would be best.

“Hey Jasmine. Long time no see.” He said with a slight smile. He knew quite a few of the former Braves saw Velius and himself as the causes of the fall of the clan, but he knew better than anyone it wasn’t his choice to destroy the crystal. He still carried a piece of it with him, hoping it might lead to restoration of the clan in some way.

“Thanks for answering the letter so intimately. Thought you had used it to kindle a fire by now.” He said with a grin as he quickly counted the extra corpses in the area.

“When the scouting party doesn’t get back by dawn, they’ll be curious as to why…” he began to say, his eyes drifting back to the crater behind him, “and especially curious as to why their new toy didn’t come back either…we’ll break camp at dawn and head deeper into the base. I need to know what they’re up to besides fending off attacks from random encounters.” He clenched his fist tightly at his side, “I can feel it’s something far worse than anything they’ve tried to do before…”

The memories of his childhood friend Beowulf and their last encounter with the Hell Reapers' twisted magic began to swell up in his subconscious.

“You obviously don’t have to go, but time is running out now.” His words were soft; not to be gentle, but to be careful of any other possible enemies. “But your help would be…greatly appreciated.”

[Jasmine]

Jasmine slowly regained control of herself as she listened carefully to Oberon’s words. She wanted to ask him many questions, the first being how the heck he’d created such a big crater and climbed out of it practically unscathed. In the dim light, she couldn’t see anything that was in the crater and she didn’t really want to see it anyway. Trying not to stare so incredulously, she opened her mouth to speak and closed it again several times before she managed to get any words out.

“What the heck caused a crater like that? What were those things? What the heck is going on here? And how did you find me to send a letter, anyway?”

She took a deep breath after her onslaught of questions, then added one more, “And where my dagger? I want it back and I am not climbing down into that hole to look for it in the remains of whatever that flying thing was.”

She said the last as firmly as she dared. She had no wish to go down into that crater, but she was wary of sounding too stubborn or anything else of the sort. At the remembrance of the time they were to break camp she looked around and rubbed her arms.

“Couldn’t we break camp now? It doesn’t need to be far. I just don’t exactly like the idea of trying to sleep with dead bodies laying around me.”

[Sword-for-Hire]

“Fair enough.” Oberon said as he listened to her questions and walked quickly to his small tent to begin packing it up.

“First things first…I made that crater. I can…change. Get real big and smash things. I’m sure your dagger is fine. Most of the upper body was intact, to a point.” He sniffed as he emptied the last bits of supplies he had left from the tent. The bodies around their camp stood where they were; no dark magic played with their forms.

“We’ll have to take off the rest of the heads.” He said absent mindedly. “Oh, read this. Little report I’ve been making.” He ordered as he tossed his small notebook at her, “That’ll answer your questions as to what these are…except for what’s left in the hole.” He cleared his throat after that line, while bringing his tent down and into a little bundle at the same time. “That was new.”

“As to what is going on here…survey before you got here. I was about to make my own move come at first light, but since you’re here, I think we’d stand a better chance.” He huffed as he gathered all his belongings together in a rough, square looking pile. Summoning long strong spikes of ice to create a rectangular crate, he continued with his explanation, “Long story short, they’re the Hell Reapers, and they plan to make a foothold in Hadia now that things are still not settled down. If they did, it would mean bad times for everyone, especially anyone related to the elves.” He finished his crate and using his power of the Jackal Medallion he’d found a few years ago, boosted his strength twice over and lifted the gear with relative ease.

Walking over to the hole with his crate, he placed it down on the ground carefully, hopped back into the hole and punched his way into the mass of meat. Searching more effectively with a single closed eye and a tongue eager to taste the air, he located the dagger and hoisted himself back out of the hole with one arm. Wiping it quickly in the sharp blades of grass, he presented the weapon to Jasmine.

“Lead the way ahead and find us a camp you like.” He let his eyes fall on the bodies that still boasted skulls, “I have a little work to finish up first.”

[Jasmine]

Jasmine nodded and walked on, sure that Oberon would be able to catch up easily. She had no desire to help him in the grisly work of making sure the Reapers stayed dead. She kept her returned knife in her hand instead of sheathing it, just in case something popped out at her.

After about 20 minutes of walking, she found an area that she deemed fit for the night. It was little more than a simple dip in the surrounding terrain. The bottom leveled out for about 50 feet before gently sloping up again. She had no tent of her own, only a blanket that she wrapped herself in when she had to sleep under the stars. She laid this out on the ground after finding a spot that was reasonably comfortable and settled down to read Oberon’s report.

I hope he had better answers when he gets here...

Grumbling to herself, she made a small ball of yellow fire appear in one hand, while she held the report with the other. She wasn’t yet strong enough to make the fireball simply float in the air, but she was working on it. For now though, she only concentrated on it long enough to illuminate what she was reading and perhaps a foot beyond that. She didn’t have long to wait and looked up expectantly when he arrived.

“Well, that didn’t take very long. These are rather...interesting...creatures, these Hell Reapers of yours. However, I still don’t understand why you need anyone’s help in this or how you found me. After the war, I neglected to contact anyone that was associated with the Grey Braves. In fact, I was rather surprised to discover that I’m remembered. I wasn’t a very prominent member.”

She stood from her blanket roll as he entered fully into the camp and handed him back his book. She had never heard of these Hell Reapers before, and though she wouldn’t have readily admitted it, the very idea of them and what they wanted frightened her badly.

[Sword-for-Hire]

Oberon dropped his gear at the new location as he was handed his book. The moonlight glazed his body in its rich luminous glow and it brought him a small sense of peace right after the grim work he’d just finished.

No matter who it was, detaching a head from a torso was never pleasant work.

Fishing into his pocket, he replied, “I found you with this.” Extracting a small shard the size of his index finger, it glimmered in the moonlight with its soft sapphire hue. “It’s from the original Brave Crystal. I was able to save this right after Velius destroyed it…” his voice broke a bit on the word Velius. The new leader of the Grey Braves, he’d been the cause of its downfall, but Oberon hoped to restore it one day…no matter how fruitless it seemed.

“From what I’ve noticed from carrying it with me, I’ve been able to see exactly where members are located. You’re the only one to reply…all the others either threw my letters away or saved them for kindling.” He flipped through the pages in his book without real purpose, attempting to mask his embarrassment at his lack of authority over most of the surviving former clan members. “The main reason I need your help,” he resumed, “Is that I was hoping to rally the Braves together for a cause like we’d done before. Our old enemies no longer think we’re a threat and these demons are taking advantage of the fact that we’ve fallen from our status.” He looked at the moon solemnly. His mismatched eyes glittered with the youth in him that he’d thought died long ago when the Brave Crystal shattered into a thousand fragments.

Holding the shard up to the moon and gazing at it’s translucent glow, he smiled softly at the hope it had given him in these dark and troublesome times.

“I think they’re trying to cross worlds Jasmine.” He said simply as brought the shard down to his side. It twinkled softly on the word Jasmine, as if alive and recognizing her name. “And if they do...then they will create a much larger army and come back to crush Althanas.”

[Jasmine]

Jasmine sighed and took a seat on her blankets. She was still trying to reason out why she had not immediately thrown the letter away herself. She had abandoned all her ties to the Braves. That any shard of that crystal remained and that it could somehow see the Braves it once protected surprised her greatly. With a start she realized fully what he’d said last.

“Crush it? The whole world? How are two people going to stop that kind of might?”

If he had told her this before she saw the reapers, she would have thought he was exaggerating. However, having seen them herself now and fought them, she was almost certain he was not. Part of her did not want to believe that such a vast amount of power was being built up, but the other also remembered that Oberon was not one to mess around with such serious matters.

“Nevermind, you don’t need to answer that. I don’t suppose there’s much of answer to that, that I’ll like very much anyway. I will stay and help you with this, Oberon, but not because of our previous ties as Braves. I’m doing this because I believe you when you say they could crush Althanas and I don’t want to see that happen.” She paused for a moment, wrapping her hand around the lockets hanging around her neck, I have too many other things to fix to let that happen.

She fell silent then, her mind going back once again to where she’d been when she received the letter from Oberon. Zerith had not wanted her to go alone to this region. She’d been adamant though, that she was going and that he could not come. The letter had been addressed to her as a Brave and she did not want to involve him in business that was not his. She was starting to regret that now as she realized fully what Oberon had asked of her.

I’m sorry, Zerith. I should have let you come...

Sighing softly, she plumped up her travel bag, placed a single dagger underneath it, and laid her sword on the ground beside her in easy reach. Remaining in her clothes and boots, she stretched out on her blankets and looked up at the stars far above them, wondering what tomorrow was going to hold for them.

[Sword-for-Hire]

Letting Jasmine mull over her unanswered questions, Oberon took a knee and placed the book securely on his thigh. Using the handy pen to continue journaling this mission incase something tragic occurred, he hoped it might provide insight into what might’ve led to their demise.

I sure hope I know what I’m getting her into…

He wasn’t happy bringing along someone who’d never encountered a Hell Reaper. It wasn’t even her responsibility to take on such a large burden. But the sad truth was that he couldn’t infiltrate the base alone. Although his brute strength had proved many times over that it could save his ass in a tight spot, it had yet to be a key factor in destroying hordes of demon minions without serious repercussions. Suffice it to say, she was basically another target. Although he valued her as a living entity, she was little more than a distraction to the enemy. Between the two of them, he’d be able to handle both their weights, but not when all the reapers would be aimed at him.

He just had to hope she was able to fend off at least a dozen guards at once.

Closing his book and setting it to the side, he took a seat in the grass and kept sentry watch. Sleep was hardly an issue these days and he spent the last few hours of the night planning their penetration. Once inside a certain magical barrier, he’d be able to summon much needed reinforcements and the pair would be able to continue on after the leader of the realm shift.

Sounds easy on paper…

***

The dawn came almost like a dream. If he’d been a creature of old habits, Oberon would still be under his wool blanket and turning away from the early peeking sun. However, he squinted at the tiny sliver of gold that rose over the horizon and stood up. The beginning of dawn was their best chance at getting in, since most Hell Reapers were nocturnal.

Most. He thought grimly.

The main opposition would consist of low level infantry, mainly guarding the darkest points of entry. Sunlight on this world seemed to bother their eye sight and they preferred to fight in much dimmer settings. However, the new battle troops seemed hardly as handicapped when once, a while ago, a squadron had chased him through a forest on a beautiful sunny afternoon.

Nudging Jasmine awake softly, he spoke in a quick, hushed tone, “Dawn. Time to strike. Bring only what you need to fight. We can find provisions inside if our stay becomes…delayed.”

Moving out, he carried only a brown knapsack that clung to him like a baby. His book and small lavender orb the size of his fist occupied the space of the bag, and he hoped he’d be able to use that orb as soon as possible.

[Jasmine]

Her thoughts drifted as she lay there. Flitting back and forth from memories of the Reapers she had fought, to thoughts of Zerith. Those of course led her back to the last few hours she had spent with him…

Three weeks ago…

Jasmine sat in a large armchair, her feet tucked up underneath her body, reading a book. The room around her was full of gold and ivory decorations sitting on stands and placed in niches in the wall. Windows on the east side of the room had their long, scarlet drapes pulled back to let in as much sunlight as possible. A large, stone fireplace took up a third of the west wall, but no fire was lit at the moment. The floor was carpeted in red, with gold scrollwork on the edges at the walls.

She wore a dress of light blue that would come down to mid-calf when she stood. A matching pair of shoes sat on the floor in front of her. Long black hair, usually kept in a braid, was loose today, falling in silky waves down her back and spreading over the chair. Her blue eyes were filled with intrigue as she read the fantasy book in her hands. A footfall at the entrance to the sitting room caused her to look up and smile brightly.

“Well, good afternoon, Zerith. What do you have there?”

The tall, handsome man returned her smile. He carried with him several envelopes, one of which he handed to Jasmine. Jasmine took it, gazing up at her beloved. Long curly brown hair framed a handsome face and eyes that matched her own. “Mail? For me? Odd, I haven’t told anyone where I am yet.” Curious about who could have found her and would have written her a letter, she opened it quickly, not recognizing the seal that held it shut.

Sapphire eyes widened in surprise as they read the contents of the letter. It was a simple request for help, but she never expected to be found by Oberon, one time second-in-command of the Grey Braves. She thought she’d severed all ties and communications with anyone from that group. Trying not to look too upset by it, she set it aside, intending to think about it later.

“Well?” Zerith asked as he gently shifted her around so he could share the large armchair with her. “What was it all about?”

“You wouldn’t want to know, it’ll probably only make you angry.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She went on to tell him about the Grey Braves and how she had joined. She also spoke of their defeat and the loss of their Crystal and Tower and who had been at fault for it all. “Now comes the part where you’ll probably get angry. Oberon, who was Velius’ second, is seeking former braves to join him and help him with something. He didn’t say exactly what, just that he needs help in this endeavor, and I think I should go.”

He listened carefully and patiently, never stopping her until she was done. He was silent for a few moments before speaking. “In that case, when are we leaving?”

”That’s just it, love. I need to go alone. There is no ‘we’ on this trip.”

Zerith frowned and rose to his feet. “Why not, Jasmine? I don’t want you going so far by yourself, it makes me uneasy.”

Jasmine sighed as her eyes followed the tall man, “I’m sorry, Zerith. It’s just that it’s Grey Braves’ business and-“

“So?” he demanded, cutting her off. “That doesn’t matter to me, Jas. If it involves you, it involves me. I’m going, whether you like it or not.”

At that Jasmine bounded to her feet, and jabbed a single finger at his chest, “You are not going, Zerith Dracosius, whether you like it or not. This is something that I have to do by myself and you aren’t going to stop me.”

He was slightly surprised at first at her sudden actions, but then took her hand gently, though his voice was still tight with anger. “Just how do you think you’ll stop me? I’m going and that’s that. Remember when that lord kidnapped you? Do you remember your promise when I finally caught up to him? You promised that you would listen to me the next time I tried to stop you from going somewhere by yourself because of a bad feeling. Well, I have a really bad feeling about you going on this trip. You need to stay here, by me.”

She snatched her hand back and glared up at him, her blue eyes changing rapidly to a deep amethyst as her temper rose up within her. “Yes, I remember. You don’t have to remind me. I promised, however, to listen, not necessarily to obey. I am going on this trip and you are staying here.”

Zerith sighed and looked down at her, “Why don’t you think about it? You can’t leave for another day or two anyway.”

“Fine, I’ll think about it, just to humor you.” She fell silent then, as did Zerith until the silence became awkward, then she stepped close to him and wrapped her arms around him, “I love you, you know that right?”

The big man smiled and returned her hug. His feisty little princess never ceased to surprise him at times. “Yes, and I love you too. Now, no more arguing.”

The rest of that day and night had gone smoothly, with neither mentioning the letter or the trip. The next day was just as smooth, but the next night, Jasmine rose early from the bed she shared with Zerith and quietly dressed herself in her usual travel clothes. She laid a small letter on the pillow where her head had been resting. Gazing at his sleeping form, she almost changed her mind, but then took a deep breath and slipped away in the night. She felt terribly guilty for having snuck away, but was certain that it was the only way she could have made the trip without him.

Present day…

Jasmine woke with a start at Oberon’s prodding. She sat up and yawned. Having been thinking and dreaming about her fight with and deception of Zerith all night, she hadn’t slept well. Rising quickly to her feet, she nodded at his instructions. Sheathing her daggers in her boots and belting on her sword, she nodded that she was ready and they struck off.

They walked for quite a ways until a large wall came in sight. They dropped down behind a small rise in the ground. Jasmine waited expectantly for instructions from Oberon.

[Sword-for-Hire]

“A wall…great.” Oberon muttered as he let his field of view drop from above the rise. Guards were posted deeper inside the base but obviously the main gate was locked. He hadn’t counted on a noisy entrance or this wall. Must’ve erected it sometime in the past two days…well, find the entrance and say hello it seems. Can’t scale this without the proper equipment or without causing a parade’s worth of music.

“Jasmine, I’m going to wrench open that door,” he said pointing to a man sized steel frame, “You watch my six. I can’t be sure how thick the wall is, so it might be able to support patrol units or it might not be able too.” He drew a deep breath. “Once I set the door aside, bolt for me and back me up incase I run into trouble once inside.”

On that note, he rose over the rise and ran for the door that was more than thirty yards away. His feet tore up a small cloud of dust as he let his momentum carry him more than his own energy, knowing that stopping would require most of it if he didn’t want to sound like a giant gong on the door. Shifting into reverse, he slowed down to a trot and let his hands touch the cool steel. He stood still for a moment, closing his eyes and concentrating on any vibrations from the other side. Sensing none, he snapped open the jewels in his head, gritted his teeth, and enhanced his strength using his Jackal Medallion that he’d gotten so long ago. Muscles bulged and throbbed as he grabbed hold of the steel edges of the door and he groaned under his breath as struggled with the heavy opponent.

However, within a minute, the hinges began to creak and moan with displeasure, trying to alert the guards down the tunnels of its plight. Suddenly feeling the familiar vibrations of footsteps and voices, Oberon threw everything he had into his strength and tore off the door with seemingly no effort, even though tears had begun to well up in his eyes.

“Raaaawwrr!!!”

“Diiieeee!”

“Keel ‘em! Mak ded!”

The voices of the infantry guards almost made him smile as he let momentum from pulling on the door carry him in a circle. Keeping the pace up, he waited for the last possible moment as he heard the approaching steps.

“Thar! Righ’ thar!” One of them roared.

Still unable to see them, he let instinct and basic logic guide his accuracy and flung the steel hunk of metal straight into the darkness as if it were a giant Frisbee. The satisfying crunch of bones and cries of pain and surprise brought a smile to his face, but it didn’t last long. One of them had dodged his attack, apparently more battle experienced than his former allies, and leaped out of the darkness onto Oberon.

Falling onto his back and struggling with the guard, the sound of stomping steps erupted from the deepest parts of the tunnel, giving the warrior a kick of adrenaline. His grip was around the guard’s wrists, keeping them from using the dagger he wielded in the left hand. The Hell Reaper snarled and spit oozed out of his mouth onto the Moon Reaper’s face. “Goodbye.” Oberon said simply. Suddenly, large spikes of razor sharp ice jolted out of his knuckles and through the bottom of the demon’s chin and through the top of his skull. Shoving the dead body off of him, he sprang to his feet and kept his Arctic Knuckles technique active. He’d need them out for a while more before this skirmish ended.

Two below, one above. Two below, one above. He repeated in his mind as he felt along the wall of the tunnel blindly. One of his informants had installed a secret magic inside the tunnel for Oberon, since his ability to see in the darkness was nowhere near that of either the Hell or Moon Reapers. Finding the niche in the wall, he followed the instructions and pressed into the tiny rock that blended in with the rest of the wall. Instantly the tunnel was flooded with white light, produce by glowing orbs that would last for up to an hour throughout the tunnel system in the base. He’d been given the order to use it if they knew he was there.

Their anguished cries of pain from the light told him they were right around the corner. He quickly guessed the numbers around at least a dozen and grinned a bit. The corridor was narrow, so he and Jasmine would have no problem picking them off in pairs at the most.

Just hope the bodies don’t get in the way…

[Jasmine]

Jasmine nodded her understanding of Oberon’s instructions, then watched as he took off down the small incline. Her blue eyes widened in amazement as she watched her friend literally tear the steel door off its hinges and throw it into the gaping hole in the wall as if it were nothing. To say she was astonished would have been an understatement. She had never seen such strength.

However, before she could properly adjust her mind to the great feat of strength she just witnessed, a Reaper leapt out at Oberon. Finally remembering her instructions, Jasmine rose to her feet and ran as fast as she could. By the time she got there, Oberon had already defeated the creature and gone inside. That there was a ready light source available surprised her, but she didn’t take the time to wonder about how it got there if these Hell Reapers were mostly nocturnal. Drawing her sword, she stood alongside Oberon and glanced up at him.

“Okay, we’re inside, now where do we go?”

As she spoke, she could hear the awful cries of the Reaper soldiers coming their way. Whispering a quick, silent prayer to whatever deities might be listening, she prepared to face them in the narrow hallway. She also wished once more that she had let Zerith come with her, but quickly shoved the distracting thoughts away. She needed to concentrate on what was at hand, not on what was already said and done.

[Sword-for-Hire]

Sure enough, brains would overcome brawn. The low level soldiers quickly bunched themselves up in the makeshift hallway, their crimson shoulders scraping roughly against the stone walls as they rushed for the intruders. They snarled and bared their pointed teeth as the ground quickly diminished between them and their prey. The only thing that bothered one of the first reapers, was that the big man in front of him wasn’t cowering in fear.

He was smiling.

Oberon roared as he sent his right fist into the face of a slightly confused guard, the spike of ice on his knuckles slamming through the eye sockets and bashing out of his skull. Brain matter and skull chips flew into the face of the demon behind it, causing it to momentarily pause in a twinge of nervousness. Before another act could be made, the half moon reaper’s other hand grabbed the face of the next guard and smashed it against the stone wall. A solid crunch told him that he wouldn’t be getting back up.

Jasmine was doing her share of the fighting. Using her quick feet to dodge the guards swipes and dismember him at the same time. Oberon felt glad for a second that she had answered his call. But a another hiss of anger brought him back from his freezing cold days in Salvar at the Grey Braves tower. A trip down memory lane would have to wait another time. As an unseen kick to the stomach connected with his gut, the warrior grabbed the guard’s foot, twisted it like 180 degrees and tore it off with bone and sinew snapping satisfaction. His Jackal Medallion’s power would be wearing off soon, so he had to make the most of it now.

Blood sprayed in all directions as the demon fell back, screaming in pain. It was then he realized that the hallway was filled with screams. Most coming from the reapers who were retreating. Oberon tossed the foot behind him like a used hankie and stepped on the crawling coward’s back neck. He had no sympathy for these pathetic beings. He usually enjoyed seeing them in pain, but he was unfortunately on a time limit. “Nice work, Jasmine.” Oberon said as he motioned for her to follow him.

The cries of the reapers was not something he had anticipated. He knew yells of agony would be in order, but not ones of retreat. They almost never ran, which told him something big was going on. Apparently they had been meant to stall, but didn’t think the two intruders would tear so easily through the basic front line boys. We’d better pick up the pace… He thought grimly.

The tunnels sloped downward most of the time, once in a while raising for two or three feet, but never more than that. The scenery never changed either. Stone as far as the eye could see, in any direction. Luckily, Oberon had a mental map that had been drawn out for him. One of his people had been able to “extract” information from a captured reaper. The layout was in reality quite simple…if you knew where you were going. Two more turns and they would be at the first point of interest to this mission.

And then they hit a dead end.

“Shit.” Was all Oberon could manage to say before the back end was sealed off with a stone slab. “Not good…” he mumbled to himself more than Jasmine. They weren’t sure if some of the info had been true, but it seemed the one about changing tunnels was one of them.

In moments of crisis, the Hell Reapers would cast spells to rearrange the tunnel system. Naturally this took a little time and effort and caused a great amount of confusion for everyone, but it was an almost flawless capture technique. And here they were.

Oberon made the mental note to kick his commanding officer in the ass if he got out of this alive.

“Sorry, looks like we’re stuck.” He sighed. The stone walls felt odd, almost pulsing with dark energy, even in the brightly lit hallway. Tapping it gently with his fingertip, the sound bounced off the walls like a gunshot. These weren’t normal compressed sand, dirt, and minerals. Perhaps it was an after effect of the magic? Only one way to find out.

“Uh…cover your ears. This might get loud.”

Slamming his plynt forearm bracer into the wall, the clang rang through his head like war drums on top of his head. The pain was almost unbearable, to the point that he thought his teeth were going to exploded like tiny calcium bombs. As the vibrations continued to bounce around their stone prison, he saw cracks begin to form around them. Whatever these were made of, they were weak after the spell. Taking in another big breath, Oberon was about to whack the walls again with both of his forearm bracers when lightning shot out of the gray unknown material and sent both intruders to the ground, shocking them unconscious.

A soft cackle reverberated around the walls as the ground swallowed them up like quicksand, their bodies slowly disappearing with each passing second. “That was a valiant try Moon Reaper…but don’t think I’d make a new tunnel layout and not know how to track you…”

The soft cackle again. And then both were gone.

[Jasmine]

Jasmine ran hard to keep up with longer-legged Oberon and was grateful for the brief stop. However, that gratefulness was short-lived as she realized that they were trapped. She watched, puzzled, as Oberon banged against the walls. Even with her ears covered, the reverberations almost sent her to her knees. She scarcely had time to recover from her companion’s first strike against the walls, when pain enveloped her entire being. For a brief moment she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck rising with the electricity, then blackness filled her vision as she fell to the ground, heedless of the floor that slowly swallowed her small form.

Consciousness came back to the former princess slowly and painfully. Her limbs throbbed with the aftereffects of being electrocuted. Groaning softly, she raised her head to get a look around. The first thing she noticed was that she was sitting in a chair with her arms tied behind her at the wrists. Next, she realized that there was very little light in the room. In fact, at the moment, the only light was what little light emanated from underneath what could only be a doorway.

“Oberon?” she asked of the darkness, wondering where he was or if he was even conscious himself.

Footsteps echoed in the small room as a figure approached her from out of the darkness. The Reaper before her was different from the ones she had seen earlier, but not by much. This one seemed a little more intelligent as its word were quite a bit more understandable than the soldiers that had met Oberon and herself at the entrance. “You, what you want here?”

Jasmine only scowled and tried to loosen the rope that bound her wrists together. The Reaper frowned and tried another question, “What you know of Moon Reapers?” Met with more silence the guard scowled and growled in a low voice, “You answer now, what you want here? You answer now or you be sorry! Boss don’t like it when prisoners not talk, it make him angry. You not die quick. You die very slow.” He half-way chuckled at that then returned to his previous post, apparently satisfied with his attempt at frightening Jasmine into answering his questions.

“Where are my weapons? Where is Oberon?”

“Oh, I have pretty sword here by door,” he said, coming forward again. “It very nice sword, I like. Why you want know? Not going to get back.”

“Just curious.” she answered and watched as he moved away again.

Working her wrists furiously and wondering at the stupidity of her guard, Jasmine slowly began making progress. She knew precious little more than she had when she first woke up. Oberon was apparently in need of help of some kind, that was clear. The other was that the Reaper in the room was only a guard and therefore not likely to be very intelligent. However, she was sure he would soon be joined by this Boss he had referred to and she did not want to find out what any boss of the Hell Reapers was like.

Minutes that seemed an eternity slowly dragged by with not another word from her guard. For this, Jasmine was thankful. As long as the guard was not hovering over her, he would hopefully not see that she was trying to escape. Suddenly, she stopped, listening intently to a new sound echoing through the hall outside the small room. Realizing that they could only be the steps of the Reaper sent to question her, she redoubled her efforts, making her wrists bleed in the process. Eventually though, just as she was sure the door would open any moment, the ropes came loose and she leapt up from her chair.

Dashing as quickly as she could for the only light source, she squinted in the darkness at even darker shapes that she assumed to be her weaponry. Without a moment’s hesitation, she grabbed her sword and whirled on the guard who was now trying to recapture her. In short order she was rewarded with the feel of steel slicing through flesh and the sound of a body hitting the floor. Breathing heavily, she felt around for her daggers and sheathed them in her boots, then waited by the door for it to open.

She did not have long to wait. She had barely settled herself for a surprise attack when the door burst open, shedding light on the corpse of the Reaper guard. Shielding her eyes against the sudden brightness, Jasmine moved like lightning at the newest Reaper. Sweeping her sword around in one long slice, she nearly decapitated the questioner. However, she did not stick around long enough to be certain of that. Glancing both directions down the hall she chose at random to go left. Keeping her sword out, she began cautiously making her way down the hall.

Ahead of her she could see an opening that looked like it lead to a large room. Seeing as how she was very lost, she figured she didn’t have much to lose by checking it out. Behind her she heard shouts of shock and orders to find the intruder.

Guess they found those bodies.

Putting on a burst of speed, Jasmine began running toward the new opening she had spied. At the edge of it she stopped suddenly. The hallway lead to an enormous room with a dome ceiling that was easily 400 feet to the peak. Walkways spiraled down the sides of the great room with bridges crisscrossing at varying angles.

A roaring sound echoed around the room and she looked down to see a giant Hell Reaper of a breed she had not yet seen. In one of his massive paws, he clutched her friend Oberon. With the sounds of her friend fighting for his life below her, and the sounds of soldiers charging down the hall, she had only one choice to make. Turning to her left, she sped down the walkway as fast as she could.

As she ran, she had to dodge the arcs of energy that were flying in every direction, seemingly at random. After seeing one create a crater in the wall, she stared at the beast that she and Oberon would be fighting. The energy was coming from it and was still shooting off in random, destructive arcs. One such arc came hurtling toward her and she took off running again.

Just as she neared the floor, another arc shot far above their heads, blasting a whole in the roof. Chunks of stone fell from on high crashing into walkways and bridges, breaking and shattering into millions of smaller pieces. As the last pieces fell away, a shaft of moonlight fell through the hole, illuminating Oberon in its pale glow. Almost immediately, a change began to come over Oberon and Jasmine stopped dead in her tracks, watching, completely mystified. His body was now a dark navy blue and was growing rapidly. She was sure that in a few seconds he would be able to match the Hell Reaper for size and strength easily.

[Sword-for-Hire]

Almost as soon as he had been incapacitated, had he been waking up in flashes. Apparently the small coin-sized Eagle Medallion he kept with him had helped absorb some of the attack, but he was still unable to move anything, even his eyes. Slowly sinking, being carted off somewhere, hands taking his great sword and dagger but leaving his forearm bracers, ropes bound around his fists and tied closely together, and then a heave into a dark, huge room.

The bounce of his chest on more weird gray floor kept traveling for what felt like a few minutes, continuously changing pitch and volume. He squinted in the darkness, confused that there wasn’t light. The air was damp and musty, tasting like old dirt and a slightly rotten corpse. Slowly getting to his cramping legs, he coughed and looked around. His ability to see in night was hardly useful, since he was only half moon reaper and still required maturity to develop it. A sharp laugh danced around him from all sides and a voice spoke.

“I’m sorry young friend, but your spell of light doesn’t work here. Not with my magic.”

Oberon held his breath. The room was an amplifier of sorts, but it was unstable. Hence the volume changes in the repeating words.

“I have a new pet I’d like to test out, since you so graciously killed my latest flying model.”

“For such a well spoken Hell Reaper piece of shit, you lack basic manners.” Oberon spat back. He listened hard to his own voice, fear rising in his belly. He needed that orb now.

“Well you will learn my name soon enough, but first meet…Spike. Yes, I know it’s a cliché name, but I do love it so much!” His voice was jolly and sadistic, which gave Oberon the creeps. “Oh, and you’ll get the light I can imagine you so desperately want, since I was unable to engineer him to see in the dark.”

A sudden flash of light engulfed the immense room. Near an entrance stood two plain Reaper guards, both holding his weapons. His brown sack was actually just a few feet away from his feet. It was lucky, but he wasn’t free yet. The moon reaper eyed the walkways that lined the dome area and noted all possible avenues of escape.

Jasmine!

Her face flashed through his mind and he suddenly worried more for her condition than the perilous one he faced now. He had to free his hands and activate that orb…if he could. The room seemed to hold similar energy signals to where he was originally going to use it and at this point he was out of options. The slow thundering sounds coming from behind him did little to raise his optimism however, and the roar that soon followed certainly killed any idea of opening that limp sack.

“Oh, where were my manners…Oberon, meet Spike. Spike…eat Oberon.” He said with a baleful snicker.

So glad he knows my name… He thought miserably as he took a few steps back from the heavily armored behemoth that loomed over him.

It was covered in leg plates and body armor, perhaps Delyn or higher. Muscles lined every inch of its body and it had rows upon rows of teeth like a shark. Dark red eyes watched the small figure carefully, wondering if it was going to flee or make a stand. It always loved to see its food struggle, but it hardly ever did. Which made it form a crooked smile when razor sharp ice spikes exploded from the ropes wrapped around its bound hands and it took a battle stance, bringing one fist up, as if to defend. What it didn’t like was when the small moon reaper swung that same arm out vertically, sending half a dozen blue shimmering spikes for the unprotected areas of its neck. The beast quickly raised a forearm and roared in anger as the spikes barely penetrated its thick skin.

A six foot five inches warrior stood little chance against a thirty five foot creature from Hell.

Leaping out of the way from a downward smash, Oberon scooped up the sack and began to reach into it, but was swiped with a back hand, loosing his grip on the bag, unable to tell where it went. His face smashed hard into the wall, breaking the fall for the rest of his body. Groaning, he rolled over and was pulled by his feet by the giant and held upside down. Drool oozed from its mangled, scarred lips and it grinned.

Glaring with his mismatched eyes, Oberon’s Arctic Knuckles shot out and he did an upside down sit up and jammed both his fists into the creatures left wrist. The ice slid into his skin, Oberon’s sheer strength taking all the credit for this attack. With a roar of pain instead of arrogance, the warrior was flung across the room and slid to a stop, bleeding from scraps and cuts. Before he could try and locate the “Orb in a Sack”, the monster was on him, this time glowing with some strange energy that confirmed his fears. Dark, violet arcs of power jumped off its shoulders, thighs, and back. In his slight stupor, he was scooped up and held in both hands by the behemoth and he screamed in agony as he felt his body being crushed.

“Notice something, Oberon?” The voice said. His voice continued to bounce off the walls randomly, along with the moon reaper’s cries. “That power you were so afraid of…it’s been infused into my new pet. That means no one can steal a trinket, or staff, or anything else that can’t fight back, from me and use it for their own personal gain.”

Oberon felt the pressure subside a bit, obvious by some mental command from the wizard. “And why did I do this? Because Spike will be the blueprints for all the armies we will create on all the other worlds! He will be the general and lead them against your pitiful race and this useless planet!” Pressure returned and all he could do was scream again in pain.

He never saw Jasmine run in, or the arcs of lightning brushed just by her, or when it opened up the ceiling, but he did feel the moon. He felt it’s power. But how? It was sunlight when they had entered the base. And the lights in the hall were still on, meaning not much time had passed since their first steps into this place.

It’s already happening!

The realm shift was taking place and they had already reached another world at another time of the day, maybe not fully, since power still arced this and that way, bouncing off the gray material with utter confusion. The instability of this dome was amplifying the signals from Spike in dangerous ways. He craned his neck to his left and saw one of the guards without half of his lower body, on the ground, in a silent scream. Maybe his vocal chords or lungs didn’t make it either. He had to stop this before anything happened to him, Jasmine, or even Althanas.

Within seconds of feeling the moon, his skin color changed and his strength increased exponentially. Now dark navy blue and growing by the second, he broke free of the surprised beasts hold and took a step back.

He was still half the size, but with more speed and power. Long dark hair flowed freely from his head, black as the night and streaked with emerald. His eyes were black as the darkness that had previously surrounded him and his muscles bulged fiercely in defiance of the creature.

It roared.

Oberon lunged.

He moved fast and struck out with his legs, kicking the monster in the knee. It stumbled for a second and Oberon took that time to leap into the air and smash both of his fists, one wrapped around the other, onto its face. Although blood sprang from its horrendous excuse for a nose, it reached out and grabbed him by the waist with both hands, attempted once more to crush him.

“Let’s see how you like my True Power.” He growled as a ball of pure ice energy formed in his right hand. Ignoring the growing pain, he slammed it into the beasts arm, since it was the closest thing to him. It instantly reeled back in pain and dropped its prey, crying out in horrible sounds of agony. Energy arcs loomed everywhere and the hole in the ceiling began shifting between night and day, casting eerie flickers of sun and moon light through its orifice. As the shadows played over Spike’s anguished face, he saw the his True Power slowly creeping up its arm, making its way to the rest of his body via the shoulder.

However, Oberon didn’t expect the freak of nature to rip off its own arm to prevent this outcome. Blood gushed from the wound and its roar was almost deafening in the confined dome.

Apparently the mental orders from the wizard were ineffective, since he suddenly said, “Spike! Control yourself! You are absorbing my energy! You can’t control it’s effects yet!”

Shit.

Oberon looked around quickly for the sack and found it lying by the half a hell reaper and its sizzled mass of flesh and bone companion. He tore out the orb and quickly recited the spell as a bolt of energy struck just above his head, sending crumbling rock and whatever the hell the material was. Tossing it in the center of the huge room, it blinked a few times and began to power up.

He wouldn’t be in time. He just knew it.

The unstable material combined with Spike’s sudden power surge was going to produce unpredictable results. Most likely even beyond the speculation of the wizard who created all of this; he had to warn Jasmine if she was within earshot of his booming voice.

And suddenly the world slowed to a snail’s pace. Each blink of the orb seemed to tick down to the catastrophic event waiting its turn in the history of Althanas. Oberon tried to begin “Run Jasmine!”, but he got as far as “Ru-” when Spike suddenly glowed a deep hue of magenta and sent a shockwave larger than the dome they were in, out of his body.

The bird circling the area that had been watching a mouse nibble on a seed, unsuspecting of the predator hundreds of feet above him, was confused to see it missing from his pinpoint eyesight. In fact, he noticed most of his territory had changed. Instead of it being lush and grassy, except for the rocky barren section smack in the middle of it all, nothing remained.

If you didn't count the small fires here and there. His land was scorched and seared beyond recognition that anything had ever lived there at all.

[Jasmine]

Mere moments after reaching the bottom of the stairs, Jasmine witnessed a fight of the greatest magnitude she’d ever seen. However, that was all cut short as a bright light suddenly enveloped everything.

At first, she could feel nothing at all and she wondered if this was what it was like to die. Then, she felt as though she were floating, light as feather, but moving forward. A myriad of bright colors swirled around her as she felt her body being pulled forward to an unknown location. Gradually, these colors swirled faster and faster as she felt the pull increase. Her last thought before the dizzying, swirling kaleidoscope became too much for her senses, was of her love, Zerith...love...Zerith...


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sunlight played on Jasmine’s face as it fell through a leafy treetop. Somewhere nearby she could hear the chattering of a squirrel and the chirping of birds. Groaning softly, she slowly opened her eyes, blinking in the bright, warm sun and sat up.

She was obviously in a park of some sort. The grass was kept much too neat to be somewhere in the woods. Off to her left she could hear the laughter of children at play. In the distance she could hear a strange roar that kept repeating at different pitches and speeds. Overhead, she heard another strange sound and looked up to see a small dot moving across the sky, leaving a trail of clouds behind it.

Where am I? Where is Oberon?

Standing, she sheathed her sword which had miraculously stayed by her side throughout the mind-boggling trip. She would not get her questions answered by staying where she was. Determined to find out where she was and where her friend was, she set out to find someone, anyone that could answer her questions.

A few minutes of walking found her near a street. She watched in awe as metal-looking things raced by her on wheels. She’d never seen such a thing. She could see people inside the strange things, but she didn’t understand why people would want to be in something that went so fast. Some of the contraptions were standing still beside the park, but there were no people in them. Bemused, she began to explore this new world, trying to avoid the people that seemed afraid of the sword at her hip.

[Sword-for-Hire]

The feeling Oberon was having could only be described as extremely painful, to the point that a death of being slowly dipped in lava feet first would’ve felt like a nice warm bath. But as all the world around him swarmed, swirled, sank, rose, and basically made a vortex around his body, his mind couldn’t help but think of the very last thing he saw.

The reinforcements had materialized just as the blast went off, along with the demons that had began spilling into the area. Which meant they would be taken to this next realm as well. The conclusion meant a war of epic proportions between Moon Reapers, Hell Reapers, and one seriously pissed of high ranking demon lord. He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to see once, or rather if, he made it through the portal.

His last conscious thought was that he hoped Jasmine wasn’t feeling anything as brutal as what he was going through.

***

“Oye! Salga de la calle! Usted bloquea asshole de tráfico!”*

The warrior groaned as he rolled over, uncaring of the hot, rough surface that was lightly scratching his nose. At the moment his armor clinked and his weaponry became visible to the tan woman that was yelling at him, she screamed and yelled, “Mierda! Corra! El es un asesino!”* She darted for a nearby street lamp and began screaming more and pointing at the still recovering Oberon.

Ignoring her and a little confused as to why he was fully healed and had all of his gear attached to him, he noticed that a large metal vehicle was making an obscenely loud noise. A very dark man, almost black in skin, was screaming at him and giving him the finger. An expression that apparently each realm must share. Oberon glared at him and stepped up to his port hole and before he could say something, the person had made his vehicle speed off ahead, either scared or in a hurry. More noises came from more of these things and he figured stepping out of the way was the next best course.

The heat was pretty intense, like a thick wool blanket wrapped around your throat while sitting next to a cast iron oven. He leaned against a white building and tried to make sense of what was going on. He didn’t see Jasmine nearby or any of the reapers from either side. Just people that looked at him funny or just tried to pretend he wasn’t there.

“Hey! You look new! Need a typewriter, son?” An old man inquired. His little gray hat sat atop his head as proudly as his last tooth did displaying itself. Curious as to what this man spoke of, and a little relieved he wasn’t yelling at him, he stepped closer and the gentleman gave him a slow but energetic “Follow me” wave with his arm.

A sign above Oberon’s head said U.S. Office Machine Co., “Welcome to my shop!” The warrior was out of ideas and maybe he would be pointed in the right direction by this elderly fellow. Or maybe fate would bring things to him. For now, he had to be patient and play his shitty hand as best he could.


To be continued…





*Hey! Get out of the street! You’re blocking traffic asshole!

*Shit! Run! He’s a killer!

[Karuka]

Initial notes: Sorry this took so long, but it's done!

Continuity: 3.

I'm really confused as to why all this is happening. I read the beginning and was like "now I want a concha," and I expected for the whys and hows of how Jasmine and Oberon got to the Houston area to be explained in short order, and I also expected to know what the typewriter was for. Instead, I get a story in flashback, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, except you guys left off at the point of confrontation. The story went on, and I didn't really have a clear idea of why Oberon was seeking out the Hell Reapers or why Jasmine even decided to come, since she obviously had a grudge against Oberon and felt extremely disassociated with the Grey Braves, and more comfortable with Zerith in Akashima. Sword-for-Hire, I shouldn't need to read your history to know that you have a grudge against the Hell Reapers.
I also have no idea where Oberon got that lavender orb, or how it got them to Earth; in fact, by post seventeen I was despairing of ever seeing a reason at all, and thought you'd just magically "poof!" and be in Texas.

Setting: 7

I got a generally good enough feel for the setting, enough so that I knew roughly where everything was in relation to each other, and what was what. One thing I could advise you on is to use more sensory detail: how do things smell? What sorts of sounds are made? What does the area feel like? Little touches like that really make a memorable setting.

Pacing: 6

It was generally well paced, I didn't have any real problems with it, other than the bumpy transition from modern Houston to Althanas three days prior.

Dialogue: 6

It was generally in character, but it was kinda flat and almost mechanical. You seemed to take anything surprising that the other said/did with an "oh. okay." rather than any surprise or grander reaction. A little tiny bit of drama can make for some good reading.

Action: 7

You guys kept the action up throughout the thread, a little bit too much so. Let the story breathe every now and again, it isn't all about sword slinging and ripping monster heads off with your bare hands.

Persona: 6

The same comments really hold true as for dialogue. The characters came off as a bit 2D to me. Maybe a little more IC reasoning (IN the thread) would help next time.

Mechanics: 6.

You guys were generally solid with mechanics. SFH, your parentheticals could have been used as separate sentences, and you have a problem with the occasional fragment and misplaced gerund or participle phrase or the occasional clause. Jasmine, you also have a few problems. Have the other person proofread your stuff, and it should all-but eliminate your problem.

Technique: 6.

I like the general idea of telling a story's prologue in flashback. You carried it off somewhat clumsily, but it was a good attempt. What I didn't like were all the bunnies and no little tag to let me know it was okay by the other person. Jasmine, you used Zerith, he wasn't even in the quest, and there was no little tag for that, either. I only took off a point, because you're both established players and I'm trusting that there was communication between you about the bunnying, but keep it in mind for next time.

Clarity: 6

You had a lot of action and it all jumbled together into a few separate mish-mashes that got a little confusing to read and keep straight.

Wildcard: 6.

A solid thread, I thought, and I'm looking forward to seeing how you improve next time.

Total: 59! Congratulations!

Sword-for-Hire gains 1605 EXP and his typewriter.
Jasmine gains 1330 EXP and 300 gold.

[Letho]

EXP/GP added!