Underground

[Talon]

The bleak landscape of Salvar was possibly the most dangerous to face of all of the known Althanas continents. Mere moments after entering one of its infamous blizzards, an unprepared person could die. Few trees littered the perfectly smooth plains, for only the oldest trees with the strongest roots could persevere through the ferocity that is Salvar.

One building stood defiant to the Salvarian weather, standing tall beneath the shadows of the long mountain range that stretched across the land. It was the home of the Assassin's Guild, a newly formed group dedicated to the same thing as the building itself... surviving. This fortress, the Castle, was the foundation on which the Assassin's Guild was built. Without the firm protection the building offered, the Guild would be scattered across the lands.

In the very center of the Castle was a vast tower which stretched high above the outer walls overlooking the countryside. This was where the Guild's leader took residence. The Hand of the Assassin's Guild, the wielder of both the Blade and the Shield, controlled all that happened within the building. However, the Hand had been bothered of late. He thought he knew every inch of the Castle, but as it was revealed to him, he was wrong.

There was an underground area, directly beneath the tower from which he orchestrated the guild. From the documents he found, it was said to hold a most powerful being, the true owner of the fortress. It was also said that this man held an extraordinary power, one that the Hand, Zachary Talion, needed. As the assassin Talon, he would lead the Guild below and take the power from this powerful warrior-ruler. This Gilgama would soon fall beneath the Assassin's Guild's combined strength.

A torch lit the dark hallways of the Castle as the Hand summoned those who could aid him. The frigid walkways within the walls were the passageways that led to every single member of the Guild's rooms, and if they were there, they would hear him. "Arise, Assassin's Guild, your Hand is summoning you. Your first task is at hand! Come to me and we shall destroy it beneath our combined strength!" He shouted this throughout the Castle, and a flock of men and women soon began to follow. Soon he had made his way though the entirety of the Castle and was standing before the tower once more. Pulling a piece of parchment from his cloak, he studied it and began to press a series of stones on the wall of the tower. After he had finished, a loud rumbling echoed through the area and a door appeared like magic from the wall of the tower. Opening it revealed a stairway which led downward.

"Follow me!"

((Assassin's Guild only.))

[Koran]

It was strange, although that was a small word to use when comparing him to that which was strange. He was a machine, limitless and immortal, answering to no one but leading none. He had lived for close to eight millennia but for all his years, was as clueless as a child to the workings of the world. He had learned however, in the many months since his emergence into this planets inhabitants, that he did possess numerous skills that helped him to survive the very harsh and unpredictable climate that was this place.

Such as his innate ability to fight and fight well, and for very long periods of time. One of the advantages of being a machine he supposed, but something that tickled at the back of his mind told him that he had always been a good fighter, always had a prolonged stamina in said activities; he couldn't place why he knew, he just did. It was like trying to hit a small dot with only your thumb, with one eye closed. Every time he thought he had it, he slipped and missed. It was rather frustrating at times.

Secondly was his strange schizophrenia, this he revealed to no one, as it would only make him less desirable then he already was. At times he could swear that he was watching the world from another mans eyes, interpreting the goings on but never able to control it. This usually happened when he was angry or distressed in some way and this usually happened in fights. He knew that his stamina and the strange out of body experience were some how connected, he just couldn't find the connection. In addition to the out of body experiences, there was also the voice. He had only heard it once, a long time ago, when he had first reawakened, but that moment had never left his memory, even after so many years had passed.


"He will wake soon," said a distant voice. It sounded like a whisper from across the room but he heard it as clear as day. He tightened his closed eyes, winced and twitched in his bindings.

There were eight, two on each wrist, one around his neck, his waist and two on his ankles. He couldn't understand why his arms were bound more tightly then his legs; the voice spoke again and was answered by a mechanical one.

"Initiate awakening procedures," the first voice said, the none mechanical.

"Procedure initiated, twenty-five percent," the mechanical voice said. Strange that it sounded so different from the first, soft, sweet, smooth. Pain shot from his wrists, traveled through his arms and into his shoulders, up into his head and exploded in blinding white light; he had only enough time to twitch and arch his back before it was done. The pain became memory and the light only flecks in his vision; his eyes were open he realized but all he could see was a haze, milky red with distant pale shapes moving beyond it.

His arms twitched, anticipating something that he couldn't see and he lashed out. The bindings strained, something snapped and pain exploded in his head a second time. His eyes closed and his back arched; something fell away from his flesh and the pain intensified. He opened his eyes for an instant and saw a bright white light, blaring light burning his eyes; he closed them again and sagged in his restraints. The pain was gone, memory replaced reality and the black spots dotted his vision.

"Prepare for extraction," the none mechanical voice said.

"Complete," the mechanical one replied.

"Open the tube."

Something stirred in him. Something was waking up, something was. . .

I'm frheeee!

His body twitched at the voice. It sounded a sigh, if you could scream in a sigh. His eyes opened as wide as they could go, his mouth opened and then his vision went black.

He awoke some time later, he couldn't say how long it was but he wasn't in the same place, not in the same place at all. He was seated, in front of him was a narrow control panel, appearing solid to the eye but when touched your hand fell through it as though it wasn't there. Above him was a view screen displaying the scenery beyond the walls around him; what he saw took his breath.

"Stars," he breathed. He reached up to the view screen and his hand met the screen with a ripple, stopping short. Something stirred in him and he inhaled sharply.

It is done, rest.

Then it was gone.

He didn't understand. Why couldn't he remember what had happened after the tube opened? Where was he? What was he in? Why did he see starts? Dozens of questions bombarded his mind but he suddenly couldn't find the will to answer them. His eyes rolled up into his head and his body went limp.

Memory faded to abstract thought and the flecks in his vision became blurs.

He blinked, shook his head and reached up to rub his forehead. It hurt just thinking about it. He still didn't understand it, even now that he had time to think on it. Perhaps he didn't remember because he wasn't supposed too. It was a sickening thought, but the only logical explanation he could come up with. He shook his head again and looked around.

A few dozen faces surrounded him, all of them rather plain and none remarkable and it was then that he remember where he was and why. Talon, the Hand of the Assassins Guild, was standing at the base of the massive central tower that overlooked the Castle and its surrounding landscape, a small piece of parchment in his hands. He was studying something on it, as well as pushing in various stones on the wall of the tower. The pattern was simple and Koran soon had it memorized; it could be important.

Suddenly there was a hiss of in rushing air and Talon replaced the parchment in his pocket, then turned to those surrounding him. "Follow me," was all he said before turning to descend the stairs that opened beneath the door. A muted silence descended upon the people around Koran, all gazing in awe at the door and the stairs. He smirked, his old facade back, his face blank save for a slight amusement.

"No use standing here," he said to the people. "It'll be cramped in there though, looks like only one of us can go at a time, so we'll need to form a single file line. I'll follow after Talon, the rest of you choose by rank and file, then follow."

He pushed his way forward through the milling people, all jostling for position in line and by the time he had reached the doorway they were ready. "Right," he said while looking in the doorway at the stairs and the fading light of Talon's torch. "Let's go."

With that he began to descend, the echoing shuffle of a few dozen feet following him as he moved deeper into the bowels of the Castle. I wonder what glory and riches await for me here. Something stirred in his mind but he was too engrossed in the stairs and the back of Talon to notice it.