The Endless War. (Open)

((If you're interested in joining this thread look here . Moderator notes: This quest takes place in the PAST with my last incarnation of Lorenor))

****Prologue****

As an encounter, the boy thought it a strange thing. Somehow, the creature knew his name and called it out as a curse. Initially approaching the boy and his fellow group of Spartan Warriors was a lad of average height. Noticing that the lad was a human disturbed the boy and his companions greatly. For what humans venture out into the Haidian wilderness on their own? Lorenor's companions detected something bizarre about the stranger that the boy failed to detect. Far too late, the boy realized the trick that lurked within the stranger. His companions abandoned the young immortal to take care of his own problems. Alone now, the boy stared at the stranger. He felt a certain level of power erupting from The Harrow. The Symbiote within the boy called out to him a name. A name of a devil lurking in human form. The battle commenced, fast and fierce. Lorenor felt an incorporeal force burning at his very Atma. Invisible hands grabbed at his person, even with the help of his organic armor wrapped about his skin. The living protector wrapping itself around his person.

Tossing his body around like nothing more than dead weight, the boy began to panic for his very existence. He looked around to find his companions, but none were there to help him from the unseen foe. A burning wind seemed to come alive to torment the young immortal. It grasped at him and flung him about to and fro. With no-one to help him, the boy did the only thing he thought of doing. The Harrow made no attempt at communication, it simply threw its hatred upon the young immortal. As a Spartan Warrior, the boy attempted to fight in every-way he could. Nothing he did physically affected the creature and he knew that death was moments away. In an act of sheer hysteria, the boy bit out at the incorporeal presence. It was a moment of complete madness. Biting down upon the energetic matter, the boy felt a harsh burning something leaking its essence into his skull. The boy felt like he was on fire, but he knew he passed on his secret to the creature. The thing suddenly tossed the boy several yards away into the wilderness.

What Lorenor didn't see was the reaction the techno-virus had upon The Harrows' host. Momentarily fizzling into physical reality, the incorporeal being became trapped inside a physical shell once more. With the boy's genetic information passed from host to host, the techno-virus started to take effect on The Harrow. A howl of agony and pain touched the boys' ears, even from his current position of several yards away. The Harrow wrapped itself in its physical vessel and ran off into the wild to stalk other prey forgetting about Lorenor for the time being. With several burn marks upon his person, the boy screamed in agony himself attracting the attention of his nearby companions. It turned out they hadn't retreated at all, but fought against several other creatures bearing similar traits of The Harrow. The things retreated into the wild when their leader retreated. This foreshadowed a greater threat that lurked in the wilderness, one that tormented the Vampire Nation for many moons.

***********************************

****I**** (Note: We are all together already)


The boy shivered. Weeks passed since the incident with The Harrow occurred but the boy still felt bitterness. In that one moment his faith in his fellow Spartan Warriors diminished greatly leaving an emptiness in the boys' heart. Lorenor watched the fire of the small encampment reading the notice from Alerar. Once, back in the day, the boy served an ancient Power Group that made its way out of Alerar. That was ancient history though. He looked at the official documentation handed to him by the Spartan Warrior who was his commander. Twenty heads lurked in the squadron now. Including Lorenor and the others hired for this mission. They were investigating something that The Elders called The Endless. Entire squads of their legions vanished seemingly overnight at the hands of this new threat. The primary mission of the mercenary group seemed the acquisition of the truth. Samples of The Endless might bring more money and rewards. Still though, when he looked at the notice sent by David Finch of the Alerar Secret Ops, the boy wished he was back there now. One of his current companions came from Alerar apparently and he looked over to the lad, nodding calmly.

Despite their best efforts, the vampires were unable to heal the mysterious burn-marks The Harrow left behind. He rubbed the one on his right forearm frequently since the pain burned freshly. The sting of betrayal in the boys' heart somehow amplified the pain.

Out of Character:

Took me a bit, hope this is okay for a start ^^

“Stop it.”
A hiss with a lash as for the umpteenth time Skeedara tells off her mate and consort for fiddling with his armoury. Armoury that admittedly she doesn’t find comfortable herself, but tolerates for the simple reason that neither Skuugra’s scales are anywhere near as strong as the metal work currently covering their hides. For what this job is, having suitable protection is preferable.

“It is free. It will protect us better than our own scales currently. You will stop scratching at it.”
A snarl, a hiss and a slap of scale on scale as Whitecap has his head battered once more. “Stop it.”

Really, it’s not nearly so bad as the male keeps making out. The metal smiths had done as best they could working around the less than human figures of the Sea Queen’s children. It’s not so often that one gets to design armour for something that already has a natural abundance to begin with.

Both Skuugra had been less than impressed when it was put to them that they would have to wear such things to go along with the quest. Also ontop of that it had taken more than a few hours to get it all worked out that no, the waterdragon’s would not not be keeping the armour, and that only a very small portion of the reward would be claimed in compensation for the time and metals required to make the suits. If they were damaged/lost, then well, it’d be a larger portion of the reward, but still not so much as to mean they shouldn’t accept the offer. Especially considering recent circumstances that mean neither Skuugra are in top form in any respect.

So here the they both are, kitted out in recently made suits of mythril that covers not just chest, back, sides, but the reptile’s long sinuous necks and tails, plates over shoulders and down slender arms as well as down haunches to the massively clawed feet. Whitecap still claims the leather hide belt around his waist with various pouches and bits hanging off it that makes up the two’s meagre possessions. Added to their assortment of armour and travel gear, both Skuugra have acquired some temporary weapons.

Both had accepted metal spurs to their shingaurds and plates, weapons that worked rather well with their brawling style of fighting. For the same reason both have had their already considerably sharp claws plated with the metal, small bolts run through the natural slicers to keep the metal in place. Whitecap had attempted a similar thing with his teeth, but the fact they just fell out or splintered put both off trying further. That their teeth grow and fall out like a shark’s , meant it really wasn’t such a bother.

Skeedara also claims a modified set of brass knuckles. They’re pretty much embedded into her hands now that they’ve had a week to heal in. The Skuugra’s main issue with the things having been that her species has strong webbing between each finger and had had to be punctured to allow the things around her knuckles. She’d been quite adamant though that she would heal perfectly fine and that as long as they had a hinge clasp that was what she wanted. Thusly that’s what she got.

Whitecap had been a little more agreeable with being outfitted. He’d accepted two hand blades as well to try swinging about and slicing with. With no previous skill or practice it’s pretty much just been the trial and error between receiving them and now. That few of the softskins have been willing to play target practice to the considerably larger scaled one hasn’t improved matters. No matter, he’ll work it out. Pointy end goes in the opponent, right? Just like with claws and teeth.

The two Skuugra stand out from the rest of the party. Among the collection of softskins. the seven foot tall, fourteen foot long reptilian monsters really don’t blend in very well. Not that they care. They’ve been recruited, they’re going to be paid. They’ve more than right enough to be here.. well, sort of.
Both are muddied shades of bluegrey along limbs and back, with a coarse bone white shading from chin, along the belly all the way until the fluked tail. Head crests with three spikes either side of the face and one sprouting back central on their head past a solid flat surface that one assumes can be used for skullbashing. Skeedara’s cresting is slightly less elaborate than Whitecap’s. There’s finned ears that flicker now and then placed behind the middle side horn, both a little tattered but still highly alert. Short muzzles that hold more teeth than any of the softskins are likely to think practical, all facing backwards, serrated and horribly sharp. Long whiskers also sprout from just behind the small upturned nostrils down part way the length of their upper jaws. Black and twitching one would think that so close to those mess of teeth the Skuugra would bite them, but no they don’t.

The main distinction between one and the other is that Skeedara is a couple of inches shorter than her mate and that Whitecap has a more obvious meaning behind his name. The male Skuugra’s face and crest are both splashed a distinctly white colouring. Otherwise they both hold the same stature and body shape. There is no mammalian distinction of male and female. Both appear to be exactly the same, whatever sex that may be.

Really, it’s luck these two happen to be here of all places, among this lot. Outcasts due to circumstances neither is inclined to disclose to others, the Skuugra are very far from their southern ocean home. Few, maybe two, three, would even know of what the creatures are past big, scaly, fierce and possibly aquatic. Not a species seen often, especially upon any sort of main land, they tend to be known through more in the way of legend or tales. Except of course for those few lucky souls who tempt to cross their watery territories or live upon the coasts that border them. Then those lucky ones know very well that Skuugra are large vicious sea monsters that enjoy raiding and terrorizing any who come within what they claim as theirs. They keep to a tribal nature with a very aggressive, warrior mentality and generally aren’t impressed by much more than show of strength.

Good timing put these two within a town where a recruiter was looking for those willing to join this folly. One that heard of them currently passing through and after viewing a brawl decided that could they be persuaded he’d much like them to join. It had been surprisingly easy for the man, Skeedara was becoming bored and Whitecap knew the use of accepting tradable goods and thusly they were roped in.

“Can I –“

“No,” Skeedara cuts off her mate before he tries another oft repeated train of thought. “You can not take the armour off. Do you want to have one of those softskins crawling all over your scales putting it back on again?”


Whitecap grunts. Personally he’s not bothered so much. It’s only Skeedara who thinks humans and humankin are such horrible, pointless, worthless creatures. He’s seen them do some impressive things and there’s more than one he’s got some respect for. Plus, really, she needs to lighten up. He wont forget any bits this time, truly.

Maybe he’ll just go for a wander and see what the softskins are doing. Find out what’s to happen next. That might put Skeedara in a better mood. It’d also help him practice some more Common, it’s not quite the same as his more familiar Southern Trader, but it’s close enough that he can follow and speak enough that there can be a general meaning passed between himself and others. A lot better than Skeedara’s managing, she doesn’t even have that to build off. She’s floundering trying to grasp meaning in the squeaks uttered from the softskins. It’s nothing like their own guttural, hissy, native language. The one they’ve been using to communicate with each other the whole time. He hasn’t been able to convince her that perhaps she should practice the sounds he’s trying to teach her. No, instead she’s just making him do it.
He’s the one who has to stand there and translate between her and the softskins in charge as best he can manage and take her wrath when the point gets lost in the translation.

Yes. Maybe he will.

There’s a couple of the softskins who aren’t too bad. One even let him throw him around the other day until they were told off for allowing ‘the monster to play with it’s food’. Just because he would of been perfectly happy to of eaten the fallen man if he did die, didn’t mean Whitecap was actively pursuing such matters. He was just trying out the metal skin and weapons and seeing what the softskin could do.

Still, there’s some who don’t actively ignore him and then those that will even attempt to speak to him, so long as he doesn’t seem inclined to ‘play’ with them. He does have to keep reminding himself that the softskins are just that and not his own kind, who aren’t bothered by more rough kinds of treatment. So all he has to do is find one that's not busy.. and as long as Skeedara's got something going on that doesn't require him, he should be fine. He presumes anyway.

Re-cap;

To say that the encampment was busy probably seemed like the understatement of the century. Many tents with busy soft-skin vampire-kin decorated the Haidia-landscape. Cleared of any unwanted undergrowth of vegetation, the large area of caverns was specially outfitted for the camp's structure. Many tents and small buildings cropped up while the busy immortals worked. It was an extension of the arm of the Vampire Nation. Many of the large tents bore flags bearing the insignias and emblems of the vampire nation. The two dragon-kind stood out like mithril gem-stones in the cavern walls of the deeper portions of Haidia.

By now, several large buildings stood in the encampment. Many of these owning specific purposes attached to them. One of the large buildings seemed to be a military tactics building. The leaders of the Vampire Nation often gathering together in order to attempt to review the information on The Endless. Sporadic field reports came in from the front-lines as The Endless were engaged in battle by the Vampire Nations' fiercest Spartan Warriors. Of these, a young commander named Lorenor observed his mercenary group by one of the particularly larger tents. This tent was closer to the front-lines bearing the soldiers preparing themselves for the battle.

Several large squadrons already headed off for the front-lines keeping their supply chains in check. Or at least attempting to. The Endless were such a dangerous enemy that no wounded returned from the vampires' side. They had to use dangerous tactics to be rid of units that once were allies, brothers, fathers, uncles, sons. The Vampires looked after one another since they were a rare peoples as well.

Lorenor sat near a fire as he contemplated strategem. One of the big dragons that joined the group walked over to the encampment. The boy looked up at the dragon and nodded at him with great respect. At least, he assumed that was the male. The two dragons had unique genders but the boy still had trouble discerning them. That one that approached seemed to be the friendlier of the duo, White-Cap as the others in his squad called him. The boy rubbed his arm again in pain nodding with a deep respect to the dragon-kind. He knew of their ferocious breath-weapons. Several warriors gathered around the fire waiting for the chain of command to send their order to go. They were the next squadron to be sent to battle after all.

All the field reports looked grim. As the dead and dying grew in numbers, the boy's face had deep concern written all over it for his allies. He didn't want anymore people needlessly dying. But The Endless seemed like a vile and mysterious enemy. He held his mithril sword in his hands, earned from previous operations and hoped it might be enough to stop this new enemy. A lot of the field reports felt like they were wild stories. Still though, the loss of good men was too real a truth to ignore.

"How do you do this night, brother dragon?" The boy said as he looked over to White-cap's person.

Out of Character:

Lil character note in relation to your previous post. They're waterdragon decendents, not your typical dragon, so they don't have breath powers. Really, they're just big and scaly with teeth and claws and use a brawling style of battling ^^ And sorry about the slow post, I didn't realise you'd responded so quick x.X

Skeedara has decided to leave Whitecap alone. Busy with her own contemplations as she stands to the edge of their camp watching out over the lines of soldiers elsewhere in the large encampment. So very, very many softskins. This is hundreds more than she’d thought had even existed, thousands even. With all the bodies that have passed through, that mill about the rest of the camp, the water dragon never thought there could be so many soft skins, not by along shot. But she supposes it’s not so surprising, there are so many of her own kind and others within the sea, it stands to reason there should be vast amounts of life on the land. Still, that there is so many of them, it’s mind numbing.

That there’s this many and more on the world above and now all these below, well. The Skuugra once matriarch is quite glad she never had ambitions past her own watery realm, the costs of her own kinds lives for fighting such a force, really not worth the effort. Not that such an idea would ever of crossed her mind, what does a water based creature want with the realm of the land anyway?

She continues to watch, keeping out of the way and using her superior height and senses to track the coming and goings of the different bodies around her. She doesn’t know who the majority of the figures are, for the most part they all come off the same to her, just like a shoal of fish she’d hunt in the sea. Occasionally there’s a flash of colour, a symbol or something else that makes one stand out among the many, but still, most mean nothing to her. A couple she recognises though. Special metal scaling, with ornamentation not shared by others, the flare of red colouring. They’re important, many keeping close to the larger tents where the softskins who lead keep themselves. Protectors of those who give the orders, a standard requirement of any fighting force really, especially one camped like this.

The stench of fleshy bodies, the sounds of the crowd, the hustle and bustle she ignores as in the distance a blur moves, scattering those around them as someone is charging through the camp towards one of the main tents. They’re obviously not an enemy, they’re not being stopped or fought on their way through the masses. Interest gained Skeedara perks her earfins, head arching around on that long supple neck to follow the movement. Hmn. Now what’s this going to mean for times ahead?

~

Whitecap admirers some of the nearby tents as he makes his way to the group of softskins. Really, the things are a bit of a marvel. The softskin notion of needing protection all the time, no matter where really is quite novel to the Skuugra, a creature who for it’s life prefers the open sea but for when resting when underwater caverns suffice. To take shelters with you, to create them, to make them so that you can carry them about, put them up and take them down, well, that’s just something so completely unnatural for his kind to contemplate. Then again his is a warrior race that lives on what it finds as opposed to carry.

Fire, earth, flesh, sweat, fear, all scents and sounds all around him. By now he’s used to it. You live with the softskins for any amount of time and their tartly dirt and sweat strong smells become second nature, you still notice it, but it’s ignorable among all the other smells. The earthliness of everything, that’s something a little different to your typical softskin dwellings. Being here, in this underground realm, it’s like permanently being within the rest caves of the sea, but minus the salt and damp, so really it is quite different. Still, the enclosed feeling isn’t quite as bad as some might think, the fact his senses can’t discern the distance to the heavens or the walls beyond, that they’re just meaningless depth helps.

Back to the softskins though, that’s what he’d come to look at wasn’t it? Not think on his current surroundings. Red wine coloured eyes scan the group surrounding the fire, his ‘companions’ in this company of mercenaries. Really, they’re okay, for softskins. He’s encountered worse, some better, true, but mostly worse.

He looks them over mildly, able to actually discern their mild differences, to pick this lot from mounds of others that make up the camp, unlike his mate. A previous history of mixed land and sea living means the male Skuugra has better relations in everything softskin over Skeedara. Distinguishing, habitual behaviour, language, all those various little things that make interaction that bit easier. Of course, that’s not to say he knows everything, a lot of the more subtle nuances of softskin kind is beyond him, as it is for any creature made to understand another race.

One of the softskins speaks to him, the commander of this little group, young but assumedly competent for his position. Skuugra as a species don’t distinguish by age so much, well, not past being small means you get beaten by the bigger creatures. You can be old or young or anywhere in between to have a position of power within their society, you just have to be able to get it in the first place and then manage to keep hold of it.

Scaly lips draw back, teeth bared in the softskin custom of a smile, a gesture that really, most don’t seem to appreciate so much. Probably the whole exposing of those that could so very easily render softskin flesh from limb. A point lost on the large sea monster, he thinks he’s being friendly.

“Greeting Boss Man,” Whitecap rasps, the voice gravelly, with letters stretched in oh so odd ways.

The title’s not quite right, but the more intricate balances of such things and the words associated seem lost on the Skuugra, they just don’t get the reason for so many different naming of things. Of course, softskins don’t seem able to stress certain sounds to the same degree as themselves, so they suppose it’s something to do with that that they have to create completely different words. Still, it’s a bother and neither is inclined to learn all the different names of those they work for. You’ve the Boss, their bosses, a Master somewhere and then everyone else is generally just a softskin or some sort of physical description of them. It’s all much easier that way.

Those teeth remain in a toothy grin, bared and scaring some of those still not so comfortable in the creature’s presence as he lowers himself down to all fours, a position as perfectly comfortable for travel and stancing as upright. He does it mostly so as not to be craning his neck so far down which gets uncomfortable after a time, especially with the metal armouries upon his scaly hide. They clatter, clink, clash, scraping against each other as he settles himself to a dog like sit, armoured tail draped behind him lazily.


“I good. Bored. Look for Boss Man, things to do?”

His common is broken, but that’s to be expected considering his own learned softskin dialect is that bit different, he has to make do as best he can. That and softskin talk just doesn’t lend itself quite so well to the tooth and tongues of the scaly beasts. Not generally anyway.

The whitefaced male looks hopeful, though really it’s more the turn of his rasping voice that shows the inquiry towards there actually being something to do. The Skuugra warrior is quite bored with all this standing around, waiting, doing nothing but watching bodies come and go. He’s a creature of action, all this long waiting is making him restless. But perhaps this time there will be something new to be done, that he could possibly do. Anything really, so long as it’s some sort of physical labouring.

~

Skeedara’s still got her nose above the crowds, crimson gaze narrowed on those tents larger than the rest as the bodies shuffle behind their hidden curtains. She can’t see what’s going on inside, she can’t hear what’s being said, she can’t even smell the bodies as they move. But she knows something is happening, something that could possibly effect her and Whitecap, her collection of softskins they are working with.

Is this the action that will send them off into the battle they have been hired to join? Hopefully, she’s quite tired of being here with the softskins. She wants to get her claws into flesh, to render it from bone, to feel the blood upon teeth and tongue.

More movement, more noise. Something most definitely is happening.

((Looks like you and I will just have to go on without the rest of our group and yeah thanks for letting me know thats a big relief to me that your character doesn't have any breath weapons. Lorenor has a deep respect/fear of all dragons since their breath weapons and dragons in general can wreak all kinds of havoc on my Character))

Indeed, something went on in the command tents. The leaders discussed the war going on. Things turned against their favor. In the central structure where the leadership body convened to discuss this latest enemy, things were beyond tense. Several Legion Lieutenants discussed matters over maps and documentation attempting to ascertain the losses. In general, things were going terribly. Field reports from the battles varied greatly but all said the same things; The Endless over took fellow comrades and turned them to their brood making them much more powerful.

Eight warriors, normally ten, overlooked the table before them. They all wore Spartan helmets.

"How bad is it looking?" One of them said.

"We've not faced such an enemy since the old Demon Exodus. These THINGS called The Endless are more powerful. It seems they are designed with our people in mind! How can such a thing be?" Said another warrior, hitting his fist against the black table. The room inside of the tent was decorated with black colors and with vampiric motifs.

"The damned Hunters are a field day compared to THIS new threat. If WE are unable to stop them they will spread outside of Haidia Major." Several of the men nodded in disgust at such a proposition. The weight of the world hung on their well-trained shoulders now. "The Old Ones predicted a war with the Darkness, could this be it you think?" Said one of the younger looking warriors.

"You are suggesting we are being punished?" One of the others said incredulously.

"No I am merely pointing out that the Old Ones' Prophecies are beginning to come true. That's all I am saying, I mean no disrespect." The same speaker said.

"One thing is for certain, if something doesn't change soon we are going to loose this war." Said one of the highest ranked warrior in the room. "I am actually seriously considering a full retreat if we don't have results after we send in our next squadron."

"You're not suggesting the Mercenary one?" Said one of the others.

"We have no choice."

************************************************** ***

Lorenor looked up at the brother dragon. Seeing the aquatic forged beast in the lands of Haidia was a strange thing. Drakes and other dragon kind roamed in the countryside often. Lorenor looked from the dragon to the cave floor for a moment in a down mood. He thought about the battle with The Harrow, nearly costing him his life.

Again, Lorenor rubbed his forearm with the pain coursing through it. Try as the medics might, they couldn't quite heal the scarring and it caused more psychological pain than physical pain. The boy met an opponent that nearly destroyed him, circumventing nearly all of his offensive capabilities. Perhaps that was the thing that hurt him the most was that he felt vulnerable in the face of The Harrow. Lorenor's bite went off through sheer blind luck, and only as a last resort.

"There's no need to call me Boss. I'm certainly not that. I'm barely a field Lieutenant here, and they stuck me in the mercenary group." He nodded towards his fellow warriors, he knew that he'd rather fight alongside them than the rest of the Spartan warriors, stuck in their militant ways. He turned back towards Whitecap. "Share a drink with us. It's called Fire Cider, I think it might be potent enough for you." The young Spartan took a pitcher of the powerful drink and handed it towards WhiteCap.

Lorenor saw a commotion at the leadership tent that was never a good sign.

Movement, but nothing outside of the command tents. Skeedara’s left watching, waiting for something to happen more pointedly. Still, she has the patience and there really is very little else for her to be doing currently. So the seadragon creature remains where she is, earfins fanned to take in the many sounds of the camp, her long tail balanced out behind her and thusly she continues to watch and wait for the inevitable.

~

A long whisker twitches, flickering back slightly as Whitecap watches the softskin as he speaks back to him.

He snorts, waving a hand, “Boss here. Command uh, group. Boss man.” The limb stretches out, indicating over their motley group of mercenaries and then back to Lorenor himself. Then it gives the softskin a pat to the shoulder, a gesture meant only in friendly terms, that of course considering the monster’s side and strength, well, it’s a little forceful.

An offer of a drink, a softskin habit he quite enjoyed, well, the Skuugra wasn’t about to pass it up. Sure, the fact that last time he’d become intoxicated Skeedara had given him a rather rude awakening from his drunken stupor wasn’t enjoyable is a point. But it’s just not enough of one to put him off accepting again. She gives him rude awakenings most times anyway.

His form lifts a little, raising from it’s sat position to push in closer to the circled bodies around the fire. Ears flicker, head turns, he watches where he takes those half dozen steps to make sure he doesn’t get in anyone’s way, then he’s sat again and looking for the offering. A couple of wary glances from the less friendly softskins he ignores as the pitcher is passed his way. Slender claws reach out, grab and encircle, mindful that grabbing too hard could possibly crack the earthenware, worse, his claws could pierce it and he’ll be spilling the sticky gunk onto himself. A venture that would be most unenjoyable as it would require him getting the armour off, cleaning it and himself then putting it back on. Not a fun prospect, no.

Another toothy grin to the friendly softskin, the pitcher’s lifted and his head is tilted back, maw parting so he can pour the liquid in without catching the pitcher’s rim on his teeth. Half empty he drops his head back down and passes it back to the softskin.

Whoa. “Burn! “

And Whitecap’s thinking perhaps he shouldn’t of guzzled the stuff so quickly. Jaws part again, tongue lolling out over the serrated spikes as he wheezes a couple of times. Yes, that stuff is possibly potent enough. To be honest, Skuugra don’t trade in alcohol of any sort in their watery realm, for the obvious reason that there’s no way of keeping it separate from the sea they’re living in. Sometimes they’ll make use of the stuff on passing vessels, or on the seaside villages and towns they raid. But as a general rule such things are a rare occurrence and only for those who live more shore side than the deep.
The fact Skuugra are already of n aggressive nature tends to detract from leading them towards substances to incline them more so. It’s just bad management on everyone’s behalf.

The white faced male laughs, a scratchy rasping sound that has a couple of the men shudder in distaste. “Fire throat. Ha ha.” A claw runs down the plated armour over his throat, chin tilted up for a moment before he looks down again. The maw has closed again, tongue pulled back within once more as he bares those teeth to his animal grin.

“Joy. You, drink, yes?” Those wine flavoured eyes challenge the youngster. Sure, he’d offered, but Whitecap wants to see him drink too. Perhaps they can make a game of it. It could be amusing. That Skeedara’s not here to ruin his fun currently makes him more inclined towards play, especially as he can get away with those things she does not agree with. Such as drinking the flavoured waters of softskins.

Lorenor nodded and accepted the challenge. He looked up at the Haidian sky, noting nothing but darkness overhead. Smoke filled the air from the campsite around him making him sigh. Pouring himself a large mug of the Fire Cider, the creature filled it nearly to the brim. Several of the mercenary warriors near his person egged him on with some cheers and other gestures. Murmurs in the crowd about the giant dragons touched the breeze from time to time.

The Haidian breeze carried the scent of brimstone and magma with it. Hot to the touch, native Haidians were used to such a matter. Lorenor liked the heat, it was significantly better than the cold of Salvar, all though he liked that extreme climate as well. Lorenor thought about Salvar at that moment strangely missing the snow. It never snowed in Haidia. The hot temperatures made it impossible so close to Althanas' core.

Looking up, Lorenor wanted to see the Dark Mother. Haidia's black sky prevented that from happening. Strangely, he was in a melancholy mood despite the prospect of being paid greatly by his masters. He looked over to the Dragon once more, raised his mug, and took a deep pull of the Fire Cider, a popular drink amongst Spartan Warriors.

He felt the large hand upon his shoulders and was pushed forward. The boy grinned at that feeling a slight bruise building up where the dragon touched him in such a way. The beast was just naturally strong and the boy admired such strength! Putting his mug down, Lorenor felt fire in his stomach sending its warmth through his person. Finally, a High Commander approached their group. Most importantly the Commander Approached him.

'Sir Lorenor. Ready your men. They are going to be sent to the field next."

Lorenor nodded and put his mug down upon the earth next to the rock he sat on. The young Spartan eyed his companions, and then eyed the Dragon momentarily. "I hope you are ready my friend. We are going off to the war. They will teleport us right to the spot of the battle momentarily. We only need to head over there to the device." Lorenor pointed to one of the large tents where a teleportation grid was set up months earlier. Truly, the technology of the vampires was awe inspiring.

Whitecap simply has eyes for the softskin, his reaction to the fiery brew as it drives down his gullet. Other creatures, the beings sat around the fire with their musky smells, fire, sweat and dirt, they’re not worth his attention when there’s a challenge to be had.

“Good! More!” the sea serpent creature laughs, a sound that easily drowns that of all others around the campfire.

Again the pitcher is brought before teeth it stands no match against to have it’s content dumped within the gaping maw. Tongue lolls and presses to it’s lips to draw the last of the moisture that can be reached before the pitcher is once more taken away.

The fire burns! His eyes even water. Gosh.. The Skuugra could really do to improve his tolerance of these drinks. Of course, how else shall he do such a thing without being able to try more? Such a conundrum!

His throat burning, senses reeling, Whitecap takes a moment before he realises a new figure has joined their gathering. Two in fact.

~

Skeedara had seen the movement long before the rest of her camp. The approach of one of the softskins with his red rimmed suit leaving the central tents, making his way out through the crowds. More than one of them had left that tent. But only one had come this way with obvious intent.

Her head turned, earfins fanning to catch the noises of the crowds as they moved aside of the figure of importance. Crimson gaze watches the dance of bodies as lower ranking softskins scramble out of the man’s way, not wanting his ire. An amusing thing to be sure. So similar and yet so unlike her own experiences of commanding a Skuugra horde.

Once the softskin is close enough the female dragonkin follows them towards the centre of her own encampment. Likely the man notices but he doesn’t do more than edge away from the creature slightly as he continues his purposeful stride towards the gathering about the fire.

It’s a mix of first and second glances that note Skeedara, some spotting the official first and others herself. Mixed feelings there, though she shares no interest in anything but what’s to be said. Well, past..

“Grarrshk shsshstr! Ha’sssh ess’stsh’!”

Whitecap jolts at the sudden appearance of his mate and her harsh words. Earfins droop, whiskers draw back and his tail tucks down slightly in submission. He’s done wrong, he knows it, so he’s not going to fight upon the matter. Skeedara does not like him drinking. He acts badly when influenced by such things. Well, he doesn’t really consider it bad, but the softskins he usually ends up interacting in one way or another tend to bring trouble with them at those times.

Words are hissed between the two as Whitecap adjusts himself, setting the empty pitcher aside, one ear flickering, twitching at the sounds of the softskins next to him. Something important?

Skeedara knows there’s something important going on, Whitecap’s not so thick as not to realise this himself and he’s making point of listening while being told off by his mate. She’ll want to know what’s going on since she can’t find out first hand for herself.

The red dressed softskin says his words then he’s off to the side somewhat, giving the two much larger dragon types weary glances. Can’t say he likes the creatures. He doesn’t know enough about the things to be personally biased to their species, it’s just the general fact that they’re intelligent monsters that gets him. Monsters covered in armoured plating and with improved claws. No, he doesn’t like them and he’ll be happy to move away once he’s no longer needed on this spot.

Skeedara doesn’t move aside for the softskin as he makes to pass her. He may be a higher rank than herself but she doesn’t care. She’s stancing here and she has no intention of moving just because it inconveniences the creature, it can go around her.

Whitecap doesn’t wait for his mate to say anything before he answers. Relaying the words he gathers from the ‘Boss Man’ straight to her.

“We are leaving. We fight.”

There’s a little confusion though as ‘teleport’ isn’t a word he knows in common or trade speak of any variety. Not exactly the most used of words after all. He frowns, scratching at that short muzzle for a moment as he looks to the softskin then to Skeedara.

“We go there.” A whisker twitch as he points in the direction the softskin points himself, “First?” uncertainty stilts his voice and he’s got his attention to the softskin again for confirmation.

Sure, he’s been speaking to the other Skuugra in their native tongue, but the action should be enough to show he’s telling the other dragon his meaning. Something he’s had to do so often already in the company of the mercenaries. Often enough that even the most dense of them realise that the male follows the slightly smaller female and what she decides to do.

Why? Is inclined to ask, why do they need to go to the tents? She’s seen some odd things by them, large groups appearing and disappearing but she’s yet to find out why or how. There’s been no explanation she can put together to understand the matter and they’re to go there? Logic isn’t giving her anything and she merely frowns, eyes narrowed, earfins back, brow ridges drawn down slightly.

Suppose they’ll just have to wait and see.

Like Whitecap, the task of mediation between the two groups fell upon Lorenor. He was more open to speaking to other races than the rest of his people seemed to be. Lorenor personally liked the two dragons, he admired their power. They were willing to work with his people which was another matter that the boy admired. He waited for the "conversation" to end between the two mates. He wondered often about their strange customs, it was clear to him that the female was superior to the two.

"Its a transportation device. Its used to move things from one place to another really fast." Lorenor said hoping that was enough of an explanation for Whitecap.

Several groups of Spartan warriors gathered their weapons as well as the mercenaries from the Surface World. Rogues and Bandits, a few others seeking fame and fortune. The vampire community offered many rewards to those that helped them out. It was an unusual matter to see dragon-kind in a battalion of Spartan Warriors. They were a proud group of people. Lorenor saw his troops prepare themselves and head off to the teleporation tent.

It was a structure located in the dead center of the camp. Far off from the rest of the tents and growing buildings. Lorenor saw a flag with vampire symbols upon it warning of the dangerous device within it. A wooden sign was posted into the earth in front of the tent itself. Lorenor eyed it for a moment and it had several different warnings etched upon its surface. A warm breeze came in from the East this time.

Storm fronts acted in an erratic fashion in Haidia so far away from any natural atmosphere. The atmosphere existing within the ever reaching cave system was generated by archaic forces placed in Haidia long ago. Those elves only THOUGHT they controlled Haidia. In reality this was an isolated eco-system completely self evolved and self contained. It existed almost as a pocket dimension separate from the rest of the surface world. Scholars often feared what horrors might lurk in that network of unexplored caverns.

Lorenor's troops entered the tent while his thoughts were on the looming war. He placed his mug upon the ground leaving it there. Not knowing quite why he did this, he lifted his leg up and crushed the wood sending its splinters exploding upon the ground. He felt fury that something out there destroyed his brothers and sisters in such a dishonorable way. Inside the tent was the teleporation machine. An organic looking piece of machinery, the device again resembled a sort of living organ. This thing looked like a deformed pair of kidneys attached together via a network of strange looking cables.

The dual-kidneys stood at a height of fifty feet. They had a large space within them roughly forty-five by forty-fix square feet as well. The panels on the bottom of the chambers within the kidneys had several circles in them meant to be spots for someone to stand on. When they all entered the transport chambers inside the large kidneys, the operators of the device never expected to teleport something as large as the Skugra. They heard about the two dragonkin from the other warriors in the encampment and had to prepare extra energy into the device for the mass-transportation.

Lorenor walked into the tent hoping the two dragons would follow. He made his way towards the device having used it before, and others similar to it.

The two Skuugra once more speak between each other after the leader’s words. Skeedara’s still of two minds on the matter, while Whitecap is simply confused. At least for him, he assumes things are nothing to worry about as none of the softskins seem fussed on the matter.

With the company moving the Skuugra went about arranging themselves. Whitecap catching one of the more agreeable softskins to give his armouring a last check over, making sure it was sitting properly. He even held the man long enough to make sure his mate’s armouring was checked as well. Finally the much larger scaled monster allows the softskin leave and the two Skuugra are left to themselves before moving off to follow the rest of the company.

Ignoring the less than friendly looks of this and that softskin the two dragonkin kept their pace as they travelled more central of the camp. Crowds becoming that bit thicker with more tents and bodies passing between the Skuugra are almost forced to stop now and then to let others pass. Though really, neither was inclined to this and when it took them they merely continued on their way without mind for those who wished to go by, most cases taking it upon themselves to wait over the beasts.

The tent’s fancy, lots of this and that all over it and etched about it. Skeedara’s more curious as to what’s within, but the male stops for a moment and has a closer look at this and that. The sketches are very much like that of other softskin markings, perhaps they meant something? The nostrils flare as he sniffs in their direction before a noise to his side catches the water dragon’s attention and he turns to it.

The boss man? Crimson eyes narrow slightly as he watches the softskin takes himself into the tent after having smashed the mug. Whitecap’s a little curious on the manner. The air’s angry where he had been and the Skuugra can only wonder as his mate’s head once more pops through the tent’s flaps and hisses at him to come in already. Chastened he quickly follows through.

Once more standing next to each other the two Skuugra simply admire what they’re looking at, Whitecap with slightly agape awe while his mate simply held scepticism. This is what will take them places? How?

Skeedara’s ready to take a swipe of her mate and have him request as to what is to happen next when the rest of their mercenary companions start moving up onto the available platforms of the device.

“We follow?”

Whitecap looks to his mate, just that bit uncertain on the matter. Despite his previous experiences with softskins, well, he still holds that same deep seated mistrust of their magics and machines as his companion. Such things never seem to work quite the same way they do with softskins as with their own scaly hides. Still, one would think that such matters have been worked out already since the two Skuugra have been known to be part of the company for the best part of a month now.

A shrug and the two of them approach where the others have gone. A softskin coming up to direct them to the opposite selection of where the majority have been herded.

((Once the battle starts we're doing a Gisela style army versus army battle to make things interesting and hopefully score a bit higher))

Several of the soft skins looked over various machinery and strange looking devices. These of which mattered very little to the final purpose of the kidney like structures. These strange instruments looked like boxes of various configurations that somehow resembled pseudo pods of the much larger organic structure. With the two dragon kin in the company, experimentation took place months prior once word went down the chain of command.

There were a group of strange looking soft skins overlooking the complicated devices manipulating this lever and that gauge. Experimentation with captured dragons from the wild proved that the kidney like devices should work on the Skuugra. They only needed to calibrate the complex artifacts to the height and weight of the two rather large beasts. Surprisingly, the configurations only took a matter of weeks though it was a painstaking process. Typically the largest objects sent through the teleportation field were supply wagons and large crates.

None of these matched the general size of the Skuugra though. With the teleportation field configured, the Skuugra should have no problem going through it. Several of Lorenor's companions (Lorenor had approximately 100 Mercenaries under his command) went through the field. A surge of energy and power opened up the transportation gate, a blinding flash of light flared across the room and the soft skins in Lorenor's command were gone. The device was configured to transport people to another such device located somewhere on the field of combat.

The secondary device was located at least 50 yards from the primary line of skirmishing for the two rival armies. One representing The Endless and one representing the last best hope for all life on Althanas. Lorenor's men were well trained. They spent a lot of time in the training camps under Lorenor's own guidance. He taught them everything he knew from the Monks of Ai'bron's training. When fifty of Lorenor's soldiers stepped onto the transportation platforms, the light overtook them and they were gone in an instant. Only a few of Lorenor's soldiers remained as they awaited their leader. He waited for the Skuugra. He watched as the one called Whitecap examined the vampire hieroglyphs all over the fabric surface of the tent.

Somehow, the examination of the Skuugra filled the immortal with pride. He wished there was time to explain how certain things worked with their society. Though right now, there was no time. The vampires fought to maintain their way of life from being wiped out forever. Lorenor walked over to his friends, the Skuugra, after waving towards the rest of his men. They could go off ahead of him, Lorenor had one final matter to take care of.

"It's time to go. We have all of our equipment ready. The machines have been configured for you guys. Everything should be fine." Lorenor said to Whitecap and his companion. "Let's show The Endless something to fear." Lorenor said with a grim expression.

Dozens of marauders from the lands had gathered together under the Blood Wolf banner. Only the strongest, bravest, and most villainous characters would be found under the banner of the severed wolves headed crest. However, currently as the banner was erected between several kegs, behind it lay those same proud warriors, drunk and sleeping upon various makeshift beds, majority of which were empty potato sacks. A young elf came running up, bursting through the oaken barn door, light erupting dazzlingly through a lantern that he held high, illuminating the straw matted floor. “Quickly! The army is gathering at the center of the encampment.”

As the elven boy stared in bewilderment at the drunken state of the warriors before him, the only movement in the room came from behind him, where a tall demon coughed violently as he scrambled off the floor. Pounding his chest with his fist several times, Vornwin stumbled towards the elf, wrapping one arm around him. The stench of ale fumed from the demons mouth, portions of last night’s meal still trapped within the bristles of his face, eye’s encircled by several obtuse red marks. “Don’t worry…we’ll be there…” Belching after his words, the hung-over demon leaned against a banister, shaking his head.

Suddenly the doors erupted open, several more Elves came into the room, carrying large pots of a liquid that puffed steam into the air, and filled the room with an enriching aroma. Following the entourage, was a well built vampire, donned in a radiating gold tinted armor that mirrored the reflection of the sun itself. “Leave us, I shall handle this.” Either the whiskey was getting to him, but Vornwin thought the words were coming from a female. Those having carried the large pot into the room placed it upon a table and left promptly at their mistress’s command.

“My name is Meralda, I’ve been assigned to this…sty of pathetic mercenaries to insure you are promptly at the warp tent.” Spinning on her heels, she stood several inches away from Vornwin, gasping at the odor coming from him; she quickly retreated a few paces back and waved her hand before her face. “Does your crew drink coffee?” Itching his tangled greased hair, the demon smirked, shaking his head. “I doubt they’ll do anything for what they’re being paid to do.” Swiftly tucking her hand behind her chest plate, she slid it back out, tantalizingly dangling a small coin purse back and forth. “You understand currency, and I’m willing to reward you two-hundred gold pieces if you insure your ruffians are assembled at the tent in an hour.”

Rubbing his eyes, Vornwin walked over to the pot of simmering liquid, working his way behind its perch on the table. “For three-hundred…I’ll have them there in ten minutes.” Smirking, fangs curving out to press against her soft violet lips, the vampire shrugged. “We’ll see how you handle the first five.” Clicking his teeth together, Vornwin kicked the pot of coffee over, spilling the boiling contents onto the floor and over the mercenaries sleeping upon it. Within seconds of touching the liquid, those who had been in a drunken slumber, were jumping off the ground and wide awake, bellowing curses to their lungs capacity. The tirades ceased as Vornwin barked out his commands. “Gather your shit! We’re leaving in five minutes!”

Outside the barn stood two large tables, on top of each were displayed various standard issue vampire weaponry. The armor ranged from heavy plate, to light leather, weapons varied from swords, shields, lances that protruded from the ground, and two-handed axes propped against one another. The mercenary crew had assorted weapons of their own, but since these were standard issue steel weaponry, who could turn down arms that were on the house?

Thirty minutes later, Vornwin collected the two-hundred gold from Meralda, as well as a slap across the face from a risky advance on his part for a overreaching compliment about her dereair. Despite how all the mercenaries of Blood Wolf felt, on the outside, they all beamed with the proud masterfully crafted plate armor, to each his own finely honed weapon, each, hung-over and underpaid. From inside the warp tent, they stood together in their own formation, a cluster of bodies. Meralda stood several feet away, face crossed underneath her helmet as much as her arms were.

Walking towards the front of his men, Vornwin turned, removing the platnium colored helmet from his face. His posture failed to resemble that of a drunkard, but that of perplexity. “I’m not one for speeches, but before me I see the best that the dwarves, elves, and humans have combined…together, we will unite today as one unit, together, we will fight by one another through pain and bloodshed, and together, we will seize victory from our enemy, the-!” Cutting short, Vornwin stood there, slowly turning towards Meralda. Her head shook as she mumbled out, “Endless.” Nodding rapidly, Vornwin smashed his plate covered fists together. “Ah, yes…victory over the endless!”

Though all their faces and bodies were covered in armor, Vornwin failed to obviously motivate the mercenaries, who stood there mute. Sighing, he growled out. “Five gold for every severed head of worthy merit felled by your blades…” A unified uproar hailed from the band, unsheathing their weapons they roared in a barbaric delight. Vornwin pointed towards a stout dwarf in front, who’s red beard protruded from his helmet. “And Grundlor, half a head doesn’t count as a whole one!”

Standing outside of the main tent, Lorenor suddenly lost sight of Whitecap and his companions. Their battalion would be without adequate leadership. Wondering just what had happened, the spartan warrior considered his current situation for a moment. The other mercenaries had already gathered at the teleportation tent preparing themselves for the trip to the battle. His own unit was already waiting for him at the hills of the field of J'ah'hastur. It was located to the great south of Haidia's cavernous network, several miles further downward which was the reason teleportation was employed in the first place.

Staring at the tent before him, the mutant was uncomfortable with employing the use of the demonic horde. Lorenor stood at a crucial moment of his life, as he stared destiny in the face. A breeze from Haidia's self contained atmosphere flowed across the reaches of the particular cave they were in. The tents and all their flags moved like quiet ghosts with the wind. Many of the command tents were already empty as the units pertaining to them were busy on the battlefield and simply awaiting word from their commanding officers as what to do next.

Word from returning spartans was grim. Many never returned home at all. Some were guessing that the casualties were already in the thousands. The vampire nation was suffering heavy losses indeed.

Lorenor clutched at his legendary weapon, Blood Sword, and looked at the damascus metal. He knew that his weapon would serve him well against the incoming horde. He would have to be brave for his people once again. He turned towards the command tent and walked towards it for what seemed like an eternity. He noticed the mercenary Demon, Vornwin and his comrades were already waiting inside. Within the air there was a hum of power as various artifacts were fused together with huge tubes. The artifacts were large containers of energy crystals that pumped power throughout the entire room fueling the sentient object within the center of the tent. They had room to fit an army in there as the large tent was roughly five hundred by five hundred. It was well lit in there with various lanterns filled with glowing orbs of blue light. The touch added an air of theater to the setting. Lorenor appreciated the effort that the immortals made to keep themselves close to home. Various paintings were on the walls of the tent, recently hung. They depicted scenes of import to the various researchers that were located in the tent. These men and women, used vast intellect gained across the ages to discover the mysteries of the unknown.

Lorenor had oft pondered placing himself as test subject for their experiments, but that would have to wait for another day.

Looking towards Vorn and his men, the others had not really had a chance to communicate too much with the high ranking officer. Lorenor had many victories for the vampire nation against the demonic horde. These were the various goblins, orcs, and trolls that lived within Haidia's fold. But now, there was a call for unity within the kingdom of Haidia. Allies large and small were being called to task for the war at hand.

Lorenor knew that a time for bravery was upon them.

He walked over towards Meralda and nodded towards her. The other held Lorenor with high regards and nodded back with deepest respect to the spartan warrior. Lorenor took a glance towards Vorn and his crew. "I am glad that all of you could make it. The situation is dire. But we thrive off dire situations. Battles like these spawn heroes." Lorenor began, seeing that the mercenaries were looking at him with wide eyes. He kept looking at Vorn for support. "Our enemy is a threat to our people the likes of which has never been seen before. It is a parasitical organism that steals the soul of men." Meralda placed a hand upon the mutant's shoulder. It was encouraging to have allies with him. "It reproduces quickly and has supernatural agility and speed. Apparently, it requires host bodies of our brothers and sisters in order to achieve full power. These are the things you need to know. Cherish your allies for they might become one of the endless. Am I understood?"

He walked over to Vorn. "I look forward to seeing you in action again my friend." He extended his hand towards the demonic warrior. Vorn and Lorenor had a history together.

Powerfully slapping the back of Lorenor, Vornwin proudly shook the hand of his friend. “My unit will be the first to take the field this day, and the last to leave.” Many mercenaries were known to take their pay up front, and slip out the door in the back, the Blood Wolves didn’t operate this way. Upon taking a contract, void of ordeals or complications, they finished their order. Propping his helmet under his arm, Vornwin turned to his soldiers, his famous smirk plastered upon his face. “At this time, I’d like Friar Eerutin to say a few words on behalf of our damned souls.”

Though religion wouldn’t be expected from cutthroats who killed for a living, fear of losing ones soul could bring even the most sinful to their knees. Eerutin hobbled forward, years ago having lost his leg in the process of a robbing several thousand pounds of adamantium from a den of few thousand goblins. It was because Eerutin had killed so many leaders of religious affairs, that when he spoke about god, that out of fear alone, they would listen. The band all knelt, Vornwin even curved his back to try to appear lower then the dwarf, the armor so skillfully made that it failed to strain his muscles. Slamming his mace to the ground, the stout dwarf removed his helmet, reveling a leather patch about his right eye, and several scars decorating his face.

Running his gauntlet over his perspiring face, forcing the sweat droplets into his brown beard, the dwarf cracked a smile and lifted his arms. “To any god up thar on high lookin’ down to us bastards of faith and cutthroat scoundrals, we recommend ya side with us this day. For we intend to kick many an arse that ain’t with us, an sund many a mar to be whitch you soon. All we ask far, is that if ya turn yer back on one of us lads, and we should happen to croak, that ya have the kegs full and wenches waitin for us.” Clapping his armor together, the dwarf donned his steel helmet, grabbed his mace and resumed his former position among the kneeling ranks.

Everyone slowly stood back up, some cackles were heard muffled within the confides of their helmets. “Amusing as always friar, but on to business.” Stepping forward, the demon began to pace before his warriors. “What Lorenor said was correct, we have never fought a foe of this magnitude before, nor will we again. For on this day, we exterminate these bastards.” The demons voice slowly began to cease it’s once playful exuberance, the twisted maniacal tone steadily returning. “Decapitation is the best way to destroy these bastards…for some of our shorter friends among us, I’m sure you’ll procure some intriguing means of coping with that.”

Grundlor, a High Mountain dwarf snorted, smashing his two-handed axe into the ground, cracking the earth about the serrated edge. “Chop the bastards in the legs, and aim for the eyes boys!” A brief resonance of weapons and feet pounding into the ground echoed in the chamber. “The endless are an organism that assumes the form of a blob, it’s black in color and will enter through any holes in your body, so keep your damn mouths shut and your armor on!”

Ceasing his paces, Vornwin stopped in the front and center of the troop. “The endless transform all they enter, into a sluggish creature, turning those into a mere shell of what they were prior. Upon them taking control, it is just as fatal as if the executioners axe beheaded them, they are lost to you, dead…their bodies just don’t realize it yet.” Turning his back, Vornwin unsheathed his one handed steel sword and tapped it against his armored leggings. “So do us all a favor, and remind them that they are dead…cut them down. As I will for any of you who turn…” Tilting his head, so the corner of his eye fell upon all the mercenaries, he smirked. “And so should you for me.”

Vornwin turned his head forward, keeping his back towards his men, wondering if this was the last time he’d command them, or perhaps the twisted gods of fate would grant him the privilege of burying a select few, or even sparing some from the horrors that awaited them on that battlefield. Tilting his head down, the demon sheathed his weapon, and firmly fixed his helmet atop his body, completing the armor set.

Turning once more to face his mercenaries, the demon roared with a feral tone, rocketing both of his arms viciously into the air, sharing a final moment with his crew. This was it, and they were ready.

(Bunnies to move the story forward)

The teleportation device was a strange thing in a strange land. It was just one of many objects of power that the society possessed. Thriving of its own volition, the two great kidney like things were ready to demonstrate their power and secrets. Configured to carry large numbers of people using the secrets of the ancient arts, the things gave off a tremendous glow of energy. There was also a humidity in the tent that was lacking everywhere else outside. Haidia was a hot place, but the humidity within the tent resembled the humidity of Dheathain's swamplands. Lorenor felt the humidity sticking to his skin making his spartan's armor stick to his flesh.

He wore the traditional armor of a spartan warrior. These were the fighting men and women of the vampire nation. A rigorous combat education system was set in place to finely hone the skills of the spartan. Lorenor wore all red, including a red cloak made out of the finest Haidian vlince. Symbols reflecting the spartan's ranking and file system were etched upon the back of the cloak, embroidered in purest gold. Lorenor's armor was a suit of masterwork plynt armor that was painted red. It had shoulder pads, a breastplate, stomach guard, and was outfitted with a piece that evenly protected the back. The mutant's weapon rested at the side of his hip. Lorenor's biceps and triceps were visible and bulged with a finely toned physique. His dark gray skin was popping with veins and glistening with sweat. He wasn't a powerhouse but he wasn't a slouch either. Vampire warriors kept in great shape often showing off lean physiques and lithe builds. Lorenor was no exception despite his rank as a derelict ghoul. He was only one of the few of his kind that currently existed on Althanas.

Lorenor took one glance at the kiosk located underneath the teleportation device. It was time to go. They'd wasted enough time on nothing as it was already. The only other weapons that Lorenor had requested for himself was a simple masterwork spear made out of oak and equipped with an elaborate steel tip. It was the favored weapon of the Spartan dragoons. The spear was just as tall as Lorenor was, if not a couple of heads taller. It rested along the curvature of his back. The spear's tip was a few inches off the ground.

Lorenor stood with a proud stance. His broad chin was raised to the sky and his expression was that of seriousness. He was prepared to face an unknown destiny no matter what happened to his comrades and himself that day. Lorenor stepped atop the kiosk but not before looking at Vorn one last time. "The last one to leave? I hope that this will be so my brother." With a grin he watched Vorn and his crew step on the large kiosk. It was a series of round steps connected into one large circular configuration located underneath the giant kidneys. The things beat directly above Lorenor's head no more than a few feet above him. Lorenor was not tall enough to reach the bottom of the device. He saw at a closer distance that the device had many intricate symbols inscribed upon its surface. These symbols all glowed with a mysterious power and Lorenor understood them to be the vampiric elder runes of legend. At a future date he would spend time studying these markings and symbols to grow in his own personal power. He was always curious of the possibilities that they would imbue upon his growth. He looked up for a moment and then he looked in the general direction of the researchers.

He waved. Meralda was standing aside the spartan leader. He'd always admired her bravery. Standing alongside a group of brave spartan warriors and a bunch of cutthroat ruffians, Lorenor couldn't have thought his odds were any better, or, any worse. He feared the truth of the rumors about the endless. If they were anything like the stories said, then they were a dangerous opponent indeed! Once Lorenor waved, he felt Meralda's hand wrap itself around his own. She was scared. He was just as scared. They would be fools not to be afraid of what was about to happen.

The device functioned along the same lines as Haidia's infamous teleportation rings. Using similar configurations of symbols and addresses, the device could transport people great distances without much difficulty. The clever vampires owned the device for many generations. Its origins were completely lost to antiquity.

Beginning to writhe and pulse tremendously now, the kidneys became alive with power. Energy from the machines fluxed from their position, up through the cables, and towards the beating organ. In a matter of moments, tremendous dark energy was transferred to the dual organs. Lorenor prepared himself for what was coming. He grasped the handle of his sword for comfort and took a glance to Vornwin's position once more. With a glowing flash of dark energy flowing at the bottom most tip of the device, powerful energy gathered with a purpose. It burst downward in a pillar of purple light that surrounded the entire kiosk with its radiant energy. The panels upon the floor of the kiosk glowed with the same sort of light sending its pulsing energy upwards into the kiosk. At the molecular level, all of the eighty one units on the kiosk were transformed into naught more than simple matter. This matter was sucked into the kidneys and then transported to a similar device several miles away, to the South. At the other end of the energy beams, the matter was transported in a matter microseconds.

On a kiosk in a tent similar to the tent they just left, the warriors were all rebuilt quickly to their original configurations. How the process took place was unknown and required unspeakable amounts of power. Lorenor found himself standing on the kiosk on the other side looking at his comrades. Vorn was there and so was everyone else. On occasion, someone went missing in the teleportation field. But that particular day, they'd been lucky and not a single casualty was present. That was good because they were going to need every single fighting unit available. Lorenor stepped off the kiosk and prepared to walk outside towards the main staging area of the conflict. He knew that Vorn and the others would follow his lead.

Lorenor made it to a general's command center. The man was a vampire that looked to be a middle aged sort of individual. He was a vampire born a vampire, not transformed through the bite. The man wore the armor of a high ranking Spartan officer. It was made out of purest adamantium. The mutant hoped to one day acquire such a finely made piece of equipment. It glowed with power. A sword was sheathed alongside the back of the general as he looked upon some maps and documents. He turned to look at Lorenor as they arrived.

"Hey Lorenor. Glad your company could finally make it." The man shook Lorenor's hand with a warm, familiar greeting. Lorenor nodded in return and looked upon the old general with a sense of kindredship. The mutant prepared himself for the battle at hand. He looked off to the distance and knew that his brothers were fighting the endless for the sakes of the entire world. "Was the trip pleasant?" Lorenor nodded once more. "General. We are eager to get underway already. I hope this will be enough. But my men and I are ready for the battle at hand. We are prepared to provide support to the main combat efforts." Lorenor said calmly stating their situation to the general. He thought about what was said for a brief moment. "Very well Lorenor. To the point then. You're to provide forward infantry and support to our fifteenth cavalry situated here. It is on the hills of H'astir. The main central point of conflict with the endless seems to be situated around there. Several other main structures have been located. Here. And here." The general pointed to the map along several circled positions.

"We are capable of defeating the endless but their reproductive capacities far out number ours. And what's worse, I fear, is that they have a number of drakes in their fold." Lorenor whistled at that revelation. He continued to listen to the general's assessment of their situation without interrupting the man. It was just another form of respect. "The circled positions in purple are where we've encountered the drakes. We've encountered the main collectives of the organism where the circles are red." The general said calmly trying to keep his anger level in check. "The fighting is fiercest in the red zones. We are calling them dead zones. Gentlemen, this is the seriousness of the situation right here. Our best efforts to remove the endless at their collective have failed. We've thrown just about everything we have at them except bombs made of adamantium." The man said calmly looking at Lorenor dead in his face. "We are running out of ideas. Our researchers simply do not know enough about this entity to defeat it efficiently. We are hoping you can provide ideas that they haven't thought of before. Show us how to kill this thing once and for all." The general slammed the table with a knife in his hand. It was steel, masterwork quality.

Lorenor listened carefully. He wasn't certain what his leaders expected of him, but he would do everything in his power to come out with a needed win against these...things. "So you want us to find a way to defeat this thing?" The general nodded. "Or at least buy us enough time to come up with a reasonable plan. This is a war of wars gentlemen. We need a specimen of the endless alive in order to study it and come up with a suitable way of killing it. If killing it becomes impossible, we may have to harvest it in some other way." The general said frowning at the thought of that. "Either way, the endless must not be allowed to live."

"What does it look like?"

"We've been able to construct models based on the field reports." The general produced a small object from his pockets. It was a wooden figurine carved by someone with artistic talents. It was a simple thing, very much too the point. The old general placed the wooden figurine on the table for all to see. "It's about two feet high from the field reports. Speedy little bastards with super human agility and reflexes. We haven't been able to get any exact parameters. It commonly has a large head with two halves, sharp teeth and an amorphous body. It moves very quickly. Once you spot one of these things dispose of them with these. Your entire outfit will be provided with a large number of them. Don't loose any." Producing another object from his packs, the general took out one of the mysterious "endless killers." It was a small artifact shaped like a cube. It had different symbols on each of its six sides. "The cube launches the energy necessary to eradicate one of them at a time. But we only have a few thousand of these. Another batch is being prepared but you'll have to find some other means of holding them off. Once you find one kill it quickly or its your ass."

********

Staring the support flank of cavalry number 15, Lorenor grinned. It was time for battle. Units were already fighting against their mysterious enemy and the sounds of conflict were heard everywhere. "Attack at will gentlemen." The spartan officer said as he moved forward onto the battlefield. He knew that Vorn wouldn't be too far behind him. The hills of H'astir spread before them for many miles in every direction. Lorenor already had his curved sword drawn, and its legendary power burning through the air. He walked casually towards another commanding officer and spoke with him for a moment. The conversation was lost in the sounds of warfare. Cannons fired off bombs towards distant targets, and archers released a hail of modified arrows every few minutes. Lorenor looked at Vorn, Meralda, and the other commanding units at their disposal. "This is it gentlemen. Pick targets without discrimination. There will be plenty of action for all today. Do not loose the artifacts that you were given. Those cubes might hold the key to defeating the endless. Keep your eyes sharp, and your weapons at the ready. Let's go gentlemen to arms!"

"Hoo wah!"

And so the battle began.

Lorenor rushed forward to the main sieging areas. Battles were taking place all around them. It was a war that never ended. A war that never slept and had been going on for many months now. Lorenor approached a group of soldiers that were fighting and decided that he would provide support for those warriors. With his sword drawn, he immediately understood what the general was talking about. The vampires were fighting against individuals with glowing red eyes...their own brothers! These poor souls reacted and moved with unnatural movements, much like zombies, except, much faster than most of those undead were. Lorenor yelled a battlecry as his units came up behind him covering good distance rapidly. The first battle started quickly as the mutant's troops came up behind the fighting warriors. One of the spartans spotted the support that was flanking them and waved a quick greeting. He turned back quickly to fight against a warrior that was slow moving but very dangerous. Lorenor noticed that the endless fought in waves that reflected their name sakes.

Blood sword was eager to shed sanguine substance. He moved quickly against the nearest endless warrior and engaged it in combat. There were hundreds everywhere. Not just vampires, but Lorenor saw dwarves, goblins, orcs, and other species. They were armed and capable of fighting with their weapons with tremendous skill. Lorenor swung and was parried.

He faced destiny in the eye.

He heard the sounds of combat as the rest of his troop openly engaged the endless at will.

Approaching the parameter of the base camp that faced the conflict, Vornwin and his crew of miscreants observed the glorious site before them. Ravaged land painted the scenery, bodies of countless slain warriors littered the field, those remaining fought daringly in the faces of overwhelming and endless odds. A dwarf beside Vornwin lifted his helmet to brush aside a tear of joy. “Tis like cum’en home aftar a long harsh day in the mines.” The sentence was barely audible over the clanging of steel and shouts of the dying.

Meralda emerged from the command tent behind them, her metallic armor clanging as if a kitchen pantry having spilled the pans out onto the floor. Her body was straining to carry a large object that occupied both of her arms, which were extended outwards to Vornwin. “Use this in the field, so when they turn you, I’ll know who to kill first.” Elevating his eyebrow, Vornwin latched the large tower shield that bestowed a foreign vampirism emblem across it to his left arm. The titanic shield made the demon appear twice his normal size. Grunting out a “Thanks.”, she smirked through her steel helm and fell in behind his ranks.

Pacing before his mercenaries, trying to adjust his body to carry this newly added weight, Vornwin saw the blood thirst hunger surging through the eyes of his men. “Know this day; we are not soldiers of fortune, but remnants of hope to a dying civilization. Know that we are the last defense, if the endless break through this camp, their reign will truly be endless.” Unsheathing his blade, it briefly having reflected light from the archers burning arrows about them; Vornwin slammed it against his shield. “Know this day, we will destroy our foe, and the only endless remaining, shall be our names, carved in the tomes of history forever!”

Bellowing out a triumphant yell, the company donned their weapons, beating them on the ground, smashing the broad side of their axes against their plate chests, screaming in vile rage to purge their systems of the last remnants of fear. Now was that time. In a rage only madmen and lunatics understood, the mercenaries charged onto the field, smashing directly into a large cluster of endless. If it weren’t for their unique armor, it would have been impossible to tell who the truly insane ones were.

Blood showered upon the company as their weapons masterfully de-limbed the zombie like creatures around them. Vornwin continued to lead the charge, cursing through his visor as his shield pummeled several foes backwards into the ground for dwarfs to rush out behind his shield and slam their two-handed hammers into the endless’s skulls. Several mercenaries broke from the circle formation, immediately attracting the majority of endless in the area to the loners. Seeing the foes flock towards them, the mercenaries who broke rank hastily retreated back into the security of the company, the endless rapidly approaching.

Just as it seemed the endless would consume the runners, they fell to the ground, ducking the dozens of hurled six footed spears thrown in the direction of the approaching endless. The weapons were thrown with such fericiousity not only did it impale the creatures, but in certain cases spiked two of them together. With the formation formed back together, a demonic yell issued the next phase, the mercenaries robotically formed into two smaller groups. One team pushed on the west flank, the other to the east, bodies marking their progress.

Vornwin commanded the western crew, his companions mostly had long handed weapons and dual wielding warriors, they rapidly made progress across the field of battle. The other team left Meralda in charge, along with Grundlor the dwarf, who already was manically laughing as his short body was covered in blood. However, their progress was burdened against the magnitudes of onrushing foes that effortlessly jumped over their shield wall in front and attacked their weakened rear of archers. As if one body, the endless sensed the weaker of the two counterparts, and focused heavily upon Meralda’s company.

Meralda slammed her sword through another jaded head of an headless, scowling out her commands. “Front shield wall begin retreat, archers to the hill behind us and provide support!” The archers snatched their arrows from the ground and ran upwards to the hill, hailing arrows down upon the endless shortly after. The shield wall continued to revert the enemies backwards, their feet slowly moving backwards, faces covered in sweat as they leaned their bodies into the shields. Swordsmen waited behind the shields, ducking below them or running from behind to strike down the stunned endless.

“Divide!” was shouted from the hill behind them, Vornwin and his men had assembled there, positioned behind large formations of curved rock they had collected from the field. The front formations split into a narrow line, watching as the large objects swiftly toppled down the hill and rushed by them, crashing into the waves of endless emerging from the horizon. The shields and swordsmen stormed up the hill, panting heavily, regrouping into the security of their circular formation. The respite from battle only made them realize they were extremely fatigued, and had lost several of their warriors in the fray.

As they struggled to catch their breath, though they had slain a countless lot of their foes, double the amount of what enemies were on the field of battle before their arrival, were marshalling towards them. It was now clear why they were called endless.

(Note to mod: Please don't doc me too much for the spoken dialog, I am still experimenting with "finding the voice" of my characters, especially Lorenor's voice)

Meanwhile-

And off they went. Hot winds from the depths of Haidia's artificial atmosphere blew from a southward direction. It was choking, oppressive. Lorenor observed the mercenary's company move forward and they started to do the job that they were hired for. They had covered barely a few yards before the endless converged upon their position. Lorenor countered a strike from the opponent he faced, a vampire swordsman. He hated the idea of having to kill one of his own. Moving quickly upon the warrior, he felt the weight of his phalanx behind him. Archers took position atop a hill and loaded their weapons as quickly as they could. Aimed towards the enemy, a cloud of angry bolts whistled through the air.

Blades clashed as the phalanx moved. Lorenor had taken the head of the pack of warriors. Already there were dead and dying from either side. Lorenor saw that the floor was covered with corpses. He was stepping all over friends and family and the feeling made him sick to his stomach. Some of them were immortals he had never seen before. Immortals that could have served to make his life more complete. As he thought about that matter, his weapon magnificently clashed through the air, countering the endless before him. The creature had glowing red eyes and his face was sunken in, distorted in pain. The warrior had a foot of height on the mutant, and was built particularly wide. His skin was like ash. His hair was tied in dreadlocks and was colored blond.

The vampire wielded a well-crafted sword for his former rank. Lorenor could tell, by the markings on the warrior's armor, that the man held rank within the vampire's army. He was previously a lieutenant. Frowning at that realization, the mutant kept himself on guard. Sounds of blades clashing filled his immediate sensory grid and the cruel smell of death was everywhere. It's such a tremendous, needless loss of life! Gritting his teeth, he kept pace with the more powerful creature. The thing moved with supernatural speed and reflexes, capable of parrying and counter parrying with steadily increasing power. The creature wore a grin on its face now, keeping his eyes dead-locked on Lorenor's position. It seemed some vile attempt at taunting the mutant.

Unable to pay attention to the rest of his company, Lorenor found himself in the heat of battle. For all sakes and purposes he was alone. Just as he liked to be. Screams and yells of other battles waged near to his position signaled that his company was fighting as well. From nearby, several warriors came up behind Lorenor and launched powerful spears at his opponent's position. The well forged tips made of damascus pierced through armor and flesh causing fresh injuries. The spears were thrust at either side of the infernal beast. Never yelling, his opponent continued to specifically stare at Lorenor's person. Lorenor continued to parry incoming sword slashes. The spears were removed from the warrior, increasing the seriousness of the injury. Despite that, the endless kept on coming.

Not skipping a beat, the thing never slowed down. Not a single motion. Without skipping momentum, the creature seemed to become faster. Lorenor was pushed backwards several paces moving against the front side of his company. Several battles erupted with many of the endless around the group. Lorenor knew that someplace, Vorn was facing his own battles. Sweat poured down his body, heat filled his armor. "Sir Lorenor! Remove its head!" Came the order from members of the company. There was a novel idea. He thought sarcastically to himself. "I'm trying! He's too damned fast!" Lorenor cried out as he continued to strike his weapon against that of the endless.

Suddenly, all across the battlefield there was a dead still. Lorenor's opponent took a few steps back and seemed to look off somewhere in the distance. This was his chance! Lorenor took a mighty swing of his weapon and moved to sever the head of the beast. Without realizing it, he was completely successful in his movement. There was a sickening sound as the head was lopped off and rolled through the air. Falling to the ground, the body hit the floor. Lorenor sighed and stole a glance as several of his companions eliminated the endless that were around them. As Lorenor began to breathe a sigh of relief, something happened. Something very wrong. The bodies underneath them, all of their fresh kills, began to release a sort of byproduct of energy.

The energy had a disgusting green glow to it. It flowed upwards towards the sky like a cloud of steam. Lorenor took a step away from the nearest body trying to find some sturdy ground to step on. There were too many corpses everywhere. Lorenor saw that the entire battlefield seemed to come alive with this glow of eerie energy. "It's happening again! Cover your faces! Visors down!" But it was already too late. Lorenor watched with horror as several bursts of energy from within the dead bodies released creatures made of living darkness. They traveled through the air as their former hosts exorcised them completely. There were hundreds of them. Everywhere. It was a trap! They had all walked into the middle of a cleverly devised trap!

Visors were hastily clamped down on faces that weren't yet covered. But not all of them were fortunate. Flowing quickly through the air, the endless, in their true forms, latched onto the heads of the nearest host bodies. Like globules of oil, they seeped into the mouths and noses of their victims. Soon, there were several audible moans around the mutant. He turned towards the direction of his men, unsure of what to do for a moment. He barely noticed the shadow heading in his direction. When he attempted to move...

(Moderator Note: I am completing this as a Solo Quest)

...Swift movements were not enough. Lorenor was not powerful enough. Lorenor was not strong enough, but he swore one day he would be. He clamped the visor to his helmet down as quickly as he could. Something was moving quickly within his sensory grid. Something very quick, very agile and very dangerous. Lorenor saw that the Endless was approaching his person quite rapidly. Able to tell what the creature was even without looking at it, his senses were acute within that close proximity. Lorenor turned quickly and began to fiddle with the contraption the Immortals gave him. How did it work again? Lorenor thought to himself as his bloody hands moved over the cube like containment unit. Keeping the containment unit in one hand, and his sword in the other made the mutant too busy. Though he was able to notice the creature coming in, it was already too late. Not enough gold pieces were invested on the battle. Too many swings were short of a successful campaign. Lorenor thought to himself angrily.

You're too slow. Too many nights spent in bed with random whores. Your eyes are blood shot, your muscles are atrophied. With a broken mind you're not gonna win. Time's up kid. No matter what deity you pray to now, you're nothing more than a memory. You're self stylized grandeur has come down to this moment and here you are. You can't remember shit. Your life ain't worth shit. Your blood ain't worth shit. And where are your fellow spears? You're washed up kid. Time's up kid. Hear the bells ringing in my head. They are ringing for me. The halls of the containment are where I'll end up next. I got nothing. No hope, no dreams, nothing to fight for nothing to cling for. All this shit, and I'm stuck in a fucking Haidian battlefield fighting these things that have no weak spot. Great. Thanks a fucking lot. And here it comes, and I'm next. And I'm too damned slow, I can't do a thing about a thing. So here it is is. Thaynes damn you. You got me good. Time's up kid.

Time's up.

Thought's burned quickly through the mutant's mind. He was able to see the creature as it leaped up towards his face. Panic settled in his black heart. All my bravado, all my bravery its all bullshit isn't it? Here I am and I can't do a damned thing. So that was the end. Is this what fear feels like? The mutant managed to drop the cube in his hand and tried to resist what was coming. The creature weighed a tremendous amount for something so small. It crashed against the mutant's body. Lorenor fell to the ground, trying to use his arm to block it. The creature's tendrils extended forward and clutched at his helmet. Lorenor rolled across some bodies as he struggled against the creature. He ended up on the ground on his front side, with the creature pressed to the floor. "The hell with the Thaynes! Not like this!" And Lorenor fought. He gave it his all, muscles straining against the creature's power. More tendrils reached out to Lorenor's skull.

It was latching on to his helmet bit by bit. Luckily, he'd managed to lower his visor in the nick of time. Despite that, there were holes and crevices in the helmet that the creature could exploit. Then the thing did something really stranger. Using its own momentum, the thing managed to remove Lorenor's helmet by flipping over on itself against the mutant's arm. Lorenor heard the metallic clang even as his helmet hit the ground. "Oh no you don't you son of a bitch!" Lorenor's life flashed before his eyes. But he fought against his distraction. Last night's bed with Meralda filled the mutant with some encouraging thoughts. He fought for his future with the girl. His muscles strained as he pushed the creature away from his face even as the little bastard sent tendrils towards him. The mutant strained his neck back moving his arms further and further away. He managed to gather enough strength to push mightily so that the thing was knocked off his person.

With a messy splash against the ground, the endless rotated upon its own physical form. It quickly regained momentum and attempted to lunge towards the mutant who reacted by stepping on the creature with a mighty armored boot. Lorenor grabbed a nearby sword, leaning his weight on his leg and prepared to swing at the thing. He rotated his weapon, opened his mouth and lunged the sword downward even as tendrils were attached to his leg. Lorenor did not notice the second Endless making its way towards his position. Striking downward, the mutant stabbed nonchalantly in the creature's general direction. It was a mass of living darkness. There was everything to hit, and nothing at the same time. Lorenor's weapon struck true but the creature was too well construction. Lorenor saw his blade slide into darkness. Oil like residue, slid up the blade as it sunk further into the creature. He never hit the ground on the other side, the blade simply just kept sinking into the creature's body. Lorenor pushed down towards the hilt of his weapon and the creature writhed in pain of some sort.

It moved erratically against the weapon now piercing it. Lorenor didn't know if that was a good thing or bad. He tried to pull the weapon out, but it was now stuck within the creature's body. He managed to simply pull the hilt out of the creature, blade was gone. Lorenor's weapon was now useless. Steam flowed from the remaining portions of the blade where the acidic like properties of the creature willed to eat away at it. Lorenor fell backwards against the ground with his face contorted in shock. He couldn't believe what he'd just witnessed. By the Thayne! How do you fight them!? The mutant wondered as he looked at the recovering creature. Then, as he sat there on the ground, the second Endless moved in for the kill. Lorenor noticed a flash heading towards his face...

Darkness. Consuming, beautiful, full of form and energy. It consumed him completely as suddenly as he noticed the flash in the first place. Lorenor fell across time and space. He sank in a void of darkness oblivious to the natural world. As he sank in the oily black substance, the mutant felt his heart beating like a series of percussion instruments. A hand made of wispy tendrils of the black substance grasped around his black heart, corrupting it further to the side of evil. Falling into the abyss, the mutant could not breathe, for there was no air. The mutant could not hear, for there was no sound. The mutant could not see for there was naught but pitch blackness. All he could do was feel the oily substance as it penetrated his mouth forcing the air out of his lungs. It was everywhere, and seemed to go on for eternity. Across the void there was flashes of memories of that belonged to the mutant. Valuable memories. Memories that were key to the mutant's very existence. And soon, they were fading rapidly away within a matter of seconds.

Lorenor found himself walking about with shaky knees for a few moments as his memories were stolen from him. His hands shook violently and he felt a thirst for blood like he never had in his entire existence. His muscles bulged through his armor. He felt the uncomfortable tightness of the heavy armor around his body weighing him down. So he got rid of the chest plate without realizing what he was doing. He turned to look towards the battlefield as people were dying all around him. The sky of Haidia was stained with crimson just as the grounds were. Bodies were everywhere. He was standing on a pile of corpses that blanketed a hilltop. He had a good general view of the battlefield. Surveying the field before him, he began to see the world in a crimson red hue. Seeing the blood stained everywhere made the mutant's heart race. He reached down to a nearby body and removes his armor hastily. Tossing it aside, the mutant began to physically ravage the corpse. Warmth of flesh filled the mutant's mouth as he fed from the body, blood dripping down his maxilla.

Lorenor looked about. All he could see were living fountains of red everywhere. Each of the fountains were moving about fighting different battles. Near some of the blood fountains were purple fountains that had a dark aura about their figures. Lorenor guessed that these creatures were the Endless that were recently rising. The mutant wanted to take a step forward towards the enemy. As he moved, he found that his body was no longer his to control! Trying to struggle against an awesome weight that held his legs in place, he began to move away from the Endless and towards the blood-red fountains. As he moved closer, he could feel the heat rising in the air. The heat was driven by the crimson hearts, each ventricle pumping blood into the nearby bodies. As he moved closer, his mind was filled with murderous intent. His eyes burned a bright red, then shifted to a darkness based purple. Well within striking range, one of the men formerly under his command took down an Endless even as his unit was being torn apart. "Lord Lorenor! In the battle we lost sight of you. We need your support...wait! What are you doing...NO!"

And it began. Flashes. Without even giving it a second thought, the mutant's hands moved in for the kill. Lorenor began to horrendously lash and rip at the man's armor, grabbing what he could. The first to come off was the helmet which was violently pulled from the man's skull. Lorenor knocked him down by jumping forward and covering a good three feet of distance. Lorenor slammed his knees against the man's chest knocking him square on his ass. The mutant grabbed the man's skull again and began to squeeze, inserting his claws into the man's eye sockets. Lorenor plucked out the man's eye balls even as he screamed in agony. He reached down towards the man's neck, pulling his armor off. Then, he bit down harshly on the neck, a sickening sound filled the air. Lorenor ate his share of flesh and then moved on. One by one, he struck violently at the men formerly under his platoon. Flashes of violence filled the mutant's mind. Until finally, there was one who was brave enough to confront the mutant.

***

"By the Thayne. You've been infected. I must put a stop to this!"

Commander Mosoth Eenith was the ranking officer of Platoon six. Infantry division working under the grand command of the High Marshall of Haidia's Vampire Nation. The High Marshall was the highest ranking General in Haidia's army. Several divisions of the army was ruled by a single General that was in charged of the entire division. The High Marshall was the highest ranking officer in the army. Commanders were distributed across each division evenly by squad. A division could have any number of squads and platoons. Commander Eenith was a senior officer serving directly under the High Marshall's command. He was an impressive lad standing at five feet and elven inches. He wore a full suit of plate made entirely of an alloy combination of titanium and damascus. He had long blond dreadlocks that were waist length. His armor was etched with the various symbolism of the vampire nation, a flag emblem on each shoulder guard. He wore hsi helmet with the visor up. It had a horn on either side pointing to the sky, and the whole thing was painted black.

He wielded a well made shield, and several other weapons. His hands were covered in sturdy bracers built for combat. The top of the hand portion had a row of three spikes jutting upwards. His eyes were emerald green, and he had well defined cheekbones. They suggested a heritage that went back to Corone before his mutation into a vampire. Judging by the way his eyes looked aged, the man was clearly at least a few hundred years old and quite experienced. He held a crossbow in position and launched the loaded bolt at a nearby Endless. The bolt struck true, piercing the chest since the bolt heads were made of refined mythril and the average grunt in the army had armor made of plynt. By this time they were fighting a newly formed wave of the Endless. Their soldiers were running low on munitions and supplies. A clever lot, the Endless was unlike any enemy that the Commander had fought in his entire existence. "Clever bastards." Eenith commented as a nearby warrior decapitated a nearby Endless that was once a close friend.

Every man killed once again on that field was a former friend, brother, uncle, or son. The losses were too great to bare. "What of Lorenor's platoon?" The Commander asked, barking the question at his associate. The man handed Eenith a report from the field. "Looks like Lorenor's platoon was wiped out. The reports are coming in. Total loss sir." Eenith shook his head. "Damn Elders. Why did they have to send Lorenor out there. He was not ready for the burden." The man had a kindness in his eyes, but there was also a ferocity there. He looked across the battlefield and could see the approaching form of several individuals. Nobody could be trusted at this point. The Endless could be anyone, at anytime. "Any word from back home yet?" Eenith asked. "We've sent them several samples already, what's the hold up!?" He added as he looked at his main scout. The scout simply shook his head. "Nothing from home sir. We don't even know if anything is still standing over there." The Commander shook his head as he looked at the Scout. "You shame the name of our Order! Return to your duties and don't utter such nonsense again. For over a thousand generations has the vampire nation stood strong against all invaders. We have survived the Dwarves, the Demons, and we shall survive these bastards as well!"

"Sir! Look!" The scout was staring at what was coming. "It's Lorenor himself!" The Commander's face became serious.

"Prepare for battle."

"Sir?"

"Just do it!"

Without uttering so much as another word, the soldier went back to his duties. Mosoth Eenith learned the Endless' tactics all to well. They captured a host, turned it into an insane killer, and spread out from there. It was all a twisted chain reaction. Mosoth could feel the scorched ground even through the texture of his heavy plate boots. He clenched his fists tightly as he saw their would-be savior approaching rapidly. Shit! He can move fast on his feet. I always did admire how he adapted to our abilities so quickly. Eenith thought to himself. Droplets of sweat poured down his brow in rivulets. When they collected at his chin, they formed into one large tear-like structure and fell to the ground. When it collided against a defeated body, the droplet burst into a billion tiny fragments. Eenith clamped the visor down on his helmet so that his whole face was covered. He could not risk being captured by the Endless. He couldn't see any around, but he knew they always were. If his hunch was right, Lorenor was already infected. The man had no choice but to take his former ally down.

Thinking on this matter made the man extremely sad. He knew Lorenor very well and the mutant was a man with a brave heart. Fearless, the mutant had lead the warriors of the vampire nation to many successful skirmish battles. Eenith always admired bravery and strength. As the mutant drew closer, the immortal noticed something that bothered him greatly. Several of those bastard Endless were converging on their position as well! Eenith spotted at least three accompanying the former Commander, and that confirmed his suspicion. There were also five of his former vampire warriors moving at different on-foot speeds in a loose combat formation. It was simple but would prove to be an effective strategy in a siege situation. Eenith did not like his odds at all. He was position atop a hill which meant that there were only several possible ways to reach him. The command line was stationed along a several miles wide stretch of land that converged atop a large ridge.

Native Haidian trees, giant mushrooms and fungal structures, grew in various positions throughout the battlefield. Valleys were positioned throughout the land as the cavernous form of their environment dictated its natural physics. At the ceiling of the large cavern, many stalactites were present, whilst on the floor, intricate and crooked stalagmites grew. They jutted up from the planet's crust sometimes forming largely intricate patterns of earth. Fungal matter grew on these structures powered by the intense heat that Haidia's magma-core gave off. The heat created the atmosphere within the caverns, and in turn, the moisture that kept the unique plant-life nourished. Eenith was standing on a purple crop of fungi that grew on that particular section of land. His men were stationed on various positions throughout the camp. Several large tents and even a few small buildings were visible throughout the staging area of the central conflict. A red-zone was developed between the main front of the battle between the vampire nation and the Endless.

A large array of pikes was visible at the bottom of the hill. Each of the pikes were jutted deep into the earth with half of their shafts sticking out and pointing towards the enemy. Each pike was over six feet long. Some even longer than that depending on which species of vampire were able to wield such weapons. Flags were placed throughout numerous quadrants of the camp as well. Each flag had a series of complicated symbols on it which depicted the symbols of the platoons they represented. Each flag was part of a particular command, and therefore was unique. The flags were crucial to the morale of the vampire warriors. There were at least fifty poles with the flags flapping in the eternal hot breeze. Eenith felt his boots crunching against the textured ground. His eyes were locked on the incoming form of the mutant. Writhing bodies were trapped on the pikes as they struggled to pulled themselves off. The Endless located on the pikes were easy pickings for his men.

Under Eenith's command were amongst the most elite of the vampire nation's warriors. These vampires fought back the initial waves of Endless and were battle-hardened. Having captured a few specimens of the creatures to send back home, the warriors were adapting to the dangerous situation. They wore helmets designed to completely cover their heads and made of plate mail. These warriors were trained killers. They were able to quickly adapt to the situation at hand and fend back the forces of the Endless. Though no final solution for the Endless was present, the vampires fought on anyway. After all, they had time on their side. It was only a matter of careful strategic planning before a solution was found. The Endless was a crafty lot, and the vampires learned that within the first few hours of the doomed battle. Eenith's command fought many sieges against their own warriors as they were caught by the parasitical organisms. Waves upon waves of the Endless seemed to show up in a constant stream with taxing results on the vampire nation's most elite warriors. This group of warriors represented the last line of defense for the vampire nation. It was do or die. History would forever remember the glory of the battle to be won.

His eyes narrowed as he stared at the approaching enemy units. The defenders' battlements were set up as best as they could be given the circumstances, now it was time to deliver. It was their duty to capture what Endless they could alive. Eenith held the cube in his hand. It might be possible to save Lorenor from such a terrible fate. He thought to himself even as he saw the enemy coming closer. No. Our battles with the Endless show that the host is no longer who they once were. They are devils and must be treated as such. I can't allow my feelings to get in the way. Eenith thought to himself as he drew his weapon. The titanium blade reflected the light of Haidia. Haidia's caverns were lit by the glow of various ores located in the walls and in the ground. It was also lit by certain glowing plants and fungi that provided illumination without the sun. Heat was constant due to the closeness to the magma-core. Eenith clutched the grip of his weapon tightly as he stared at the approaching warriors. The Endless will probably make it past the pikes. I have to be ready to take on another wave. I don't know if Lorenor can...

And the seasoned warrior saw something incredible. Lorenor, was giving commands to the enemy! He could see, even from that distance, the mutant moving his hand in strange motions and patterns. Eenith, recognized that as some sort of communication between the enemy units. He prepared even as he saw what was happening. Everything seemed to slow down. His heart was beating in his throat like a symphony of percussion instruments. His breathing slowed, his pupils became dilated. Stay focused. He saw Lorenor coming in at best speed surrounded by the Endless. It was like a nightmare. "Steady men!" Eenith commanded as several warriors were around his person all in battle formation. Shields were ready and weapons drawn. They were prepared for combat as they've spent millennia training for this moment. Each warrior stood perfectly still, wind flowing around them. Several more warriors joined the phalanx and they prepared to fight. Eenith's eyes remained focused on the field ahead of him as he saw with incredibly accurate vision. Lorenor suddenly paused about a few paces away from the pikes. This is not good I can't tell what he's doing!

Eenith was a powerful vampire about a few hundred years old. To a vampire, age and eternity was very important. The older a vampire was, the more power he possessed. Eenith was one of the warrior elites on the field and possessed incredible powers. He could focus his abilities all at once with a large blood pool at his disposal. Mosoth Eenith was a born vampire, not turned, so he had great power at his command. After burning some blood pool, a symbol manifested in the air. This symbol inscribed itself onto the vampire's sword. Eenith felt the tension in the air as the wave of Endless began their assault. He could see the hand signs even from this distance though he knew not what they meant. The gestures of the Endless were erratic. Several nearby vampires also called upon similar archaic symbols. These symbols caused a tingle to flow through the air. Hairs stood stiff as the vibration passed across the necks of the vampires. It was do or die time. The eyes of history were looking upon this battle now. Eenith viewed Lorenor's actions with great interest. "Show no mercy! But remember men, Lorenor is mine!"

Cascading across the walls, bursts of energy crackled from conducive stones. Traveling through the Haidian air, these bolts of energy exploded upon the ground sending fungi formations flying through the air. Energy was discharged from the walls every few seconds lending the eerie effect of thunder and lightning. Booms could be heard several miles away from a single impact point. Clouds formed by the fungus stalks, gathered with this potent energy present. Lightning-like energy struck the ground beneath it turning the earth into blasted glass. Haidia was a land of chaos. Few that weren't properly trained could survive in its wild places. Around each passageway was a new danger, and even greater rewards. The battle was currently taking place in a large cavern that was roughly ten thousand feet by ten thousand feet. It's ceiling was roughly six thousand feet high. Every so often, a stalactite fell to the earth below crushing everything underneath it with tremendous weight. A single stalactite could weigh hundreds of pounds.

Fungus trees stood at a height of about one hundred feet in certain cases. There was moss that grew near to the roots of these fungal outgrowth. These "tree" stalks replaced the trees of the overworld. Or, the surface world. Glowing crystals located in various formations all around the cavernous structure provided a fluorescent light. These glowing crystals were lit up in various colors. This lighting was quite different from the lighting of the sun, and fueled by Haidia's magma-core. Clouds were gathered unusually thick and were pregnant with ample energy. Moisture flowed down in a light drizzling rain. The water was very warm. Hot water hit the ground producing a strange steam like effect whenever it connected with the floor of the cavern. Plants and algae that lived on the caverns' floor fed from the nutrients given by this mineral rich water. Various battles were taking place within that cavern. It was a harsh world, one of survival and carnage. This was the world of Haidia. Land of the Demons.

The ground beneath Lorenor was rock. Cracked on the surface and angled strangely do to the nature of the sedimentary substance, the rock was everywhere. So plain was it to the sight that it was almost maddening. The rock was everywhere in Haidia. Moss and other fungus grew on the surface of the rocks. Clinging to the warmth that the rocks gave off, the fungal life forms were like parasitical organisms. They fed off the rich minerals found in the combination of the high-nutrient water and the high-nutrient rocks. This environment was the true face of Haidia. An infinitely spanning series of tunnels that went off in every direction of the known compass. Tunnels and side passageways branched off from the main tunnels in every portion of the walls leading to new secrets. Moisture from the rain flowed down Lorenor's body as his hair began to get soaked in the warm water. Forming rivulets of drops, the drops fell to the earth beneath him and broke off into a million tiny fragments. He was looking at something. Something beyond a wall of pikes. An enemy. An ally. He wasn't sure which it was anymore.

No longer able to think for himself, the Endless had taken over...

The mutant found himself standing as his body acted on its own. Hands commanded the nearby groups of Endless to perform various sorts of tasks needed for the battle ahead. Lorenor's target had become the leader of the enemy units. Enemy? Who was the enemy? Thoughts of insanity burned through the mutant's mind as he struggled to gather himself against the endless. A superior entity, the parasitical life-form embedded itself underneath the mutant's skin. It felt like his entire body was on fire, about to explode from the inside out. Lorenor unsheathed blood sword despite his best attempt to resist. The creature lulled various words in the form of a seductive song into the back of his mind. Reality was distorted. Things kept fading in and out of his peripheral vision in various flashes. His body felt like it weighed a million pounds. His organs were lead, his legs were made of steel and his arms were made out of heavy damascus. That's what everything felt like to the mutant's world. In a matter of moments, the Endless had taken over for the strong mutant's will.

The Endless seeped its tendrils into Lorenor's brain. It settled in his body seeking to become the commanding organism of the host vessel. In a matter of moments, the mutant's life had become just that. A memory. Lorenor walked forward without having any real control of himself. Pain burned up and down his spinal column as his dendrites were rearranged into a pattern that would be optimal for the life of the Endless. Lorenor's skin tone became much darker to the point where it was almost gray. His one brilliant amethyst glowing eyes changed into a brighter shade of purple, almost violet. They were currently observing the pikes before him. Each pike stood at a forty five degree angle and was jutted about a fourth of the way into the ground. Made of damascus, the pikes' blades were potentially very sharp. Each unit had a long haft that was roughly twelve feet in length all together. Lorenor was observing this. And in one sudden motion, he leaped up into the air with a drastic burst of energy. Darkness surrounded the mutant as he flew some twenty feet up into the air, did a front-flip and glided easily above the row pikes. He cleared the pikes and landed on the other side. In similar fashion, the rest of the Endless attempted to clear the pikes with varying degrees of success.

Without wishing for it to happen, Lorenor's hand went to Blood Sword and he drew the weapon. It was a masterwork weapon. Blood Sword was made out of Haidian Steel and forged by the Vampire's blacksmiths. Lorenor drew the weapon casually. Several warriors that were once allies drew arms against the new mutant. Lorenor saw this as an act of hostility and kept his face calm and collected. He kept his weapon steady in his hands, the grip held tightly. Rotating the sword, Lorenor lunged at the nearest soldier. The man kept his cool. He reacted by blocking Lorenor's attack with a shield. There was a clang of steel against solid iron. Lorenor walked in a sort of constant daze, his body moving in a strange fashion. He limped now as his body was underneath the weight of the Endless. Lorenor's arms began to wildly swing Blood Sword around. Attempting to counter Lorenor, the soldiers reacted quickly with counters, blocks, and parries. Each action was met with an appropriate reaction. The mutant was more than skilled enough to take on several grown men at once.

Several of the Endless cleared their jumps and landed on the ground nearby to Lorenor's position. These warriors gathered their strength quickly and rushed the line of scrimmage. There were fifty defending soldiers against Lorenor's small squadron of about ten fully armed Endless. Alongside the Endless host bodies, several of the small parasitical organisms made the jump as well, whilst a small few couldn't clear the pikes. Trapped upon the damascus tips, the creatures writhed and twisted. Being large, amorphous blobs, the things splattered against the nearby ground. Stretching a few feet from the portion of their body that was trapped on the pikes, they cleared the distance painfully. As their bodies left the prison of the pikes' tips, the steel edge was melted away due to an acidic property possessed by the Endless. Many of the pikes were now completely useless. It was clearly a method of distraction, divide and conquer. Eenith spotted the Endless coming even as the prepared to take nearby hosts. "Cover your faces, visors down!"

Some heard the call, but many did not.

Endless slyly leaped across the ground quickly. Once they were in range, they jumped to the nearest host vessel that they could acquire. For a time there, it seemed like the vampires of Haidia had an actual chance of winning, but the last line of defense was breached effectively. Leaving the rest of the Haidian defenders open to attack. Soldiers kept their phalanx formation in a futile attempt to stop the scourge from coming. Members of their own party suddenly turned against them and it became difficult to discern friend from foe. Lorenor saw his opportunity and sneaked his way deeper into the camp. The enemy commander was waiting for him. Lorenor knew this because the Endless knew this. And it was a knowledge that drove him completely mad. His face was twisted in a blood lust, combined with a sort of hatred that he had never known. It was a mask of the truest sort of isanity. There was nothing holding back the mutant's perplexing emotions. His face contorted throughout the entire spectrum of emotions as he watched his target getting closer.

Mosoth Eenith. The name rang through the mutant's head as he attempted to understand the gravity of his situation. Men started to die quickly as the Endless descended upon them. This was the opening that Lorenor needed to finish the battle quickly. Hearing the call of the Endless, Lorenor found himself able to understand the Endless as a hive-collective. The thoughts of several thousand individual units sang across the surface of his mind. Despite that knowledge, it was not a pleasant relationship. Burning his brain, the Endless wanted to overwhelmingly control the mutant. It wasn't a mutual relationship of control. Walking towards the enemy commander, the order came from the rest of the Endless hive-mind. The Vampire Nation must fall! Lorenor heard the command as much as he actually felt it across his physical body. This command brought tears to his eyes and he wanted to rip his own face off. But he couldn't. His body was no longer his to control. He watched his mind acting from far away as his spirit became locked in a sort of prison or a cage.

And that prison was the Endless. Lorenor cried out in agony as he heard the cry of the other host bodies who were captured by the Endless. It was a tormented relationship. The Endless took over and filled the body with its intoxicating power lulling Lorenor into a state of complacency. With that, the mutant swung the first blow against Mosoth Eenith. The man had a sad look on his face but reacted with the grace and skill of a veteran. The two began their war. Swinging blow after blow, Mosoth's blade glowed with a red energy whilst Lorenor's blade had a black energy that flowed from it in streaks of light. Connecting repeatedly off one another, the two blades began to overheat as the metal struck metal. The surface of either weapon glowed red. Lorenor could see Mosoth staring furiously at him. Exchanging blow after blow, the two seemed as if they were completely on par with one another. Lorenor's fury and rage matched the calm control of the other commander but then something happened.

Something very unexpected. Using Lorenor's rage against him, Mosoth's experienced command of his weapon came into play. The weapon began to glow with a superior red glow as Mosoth called upon one of his many bladed techniques. When the weapon reached the zenith of its glowing energy, the experienced veteran began to release the stored energy. It was a risky technique. But Lorenor could never have seen it coming despite the bright glow from the sword. When the two blades connected at the exact same time, Mosoth released the power. There was a mighty explosion of energy that cascaded across the air. Brilliant streaks of light flowed violently across Lorenor's person. He saw the attack occurring from far away but could do nothing to control his body. The explosion was loud and sounded much louder thanks to the Endless interference. The mutant found himself upon the ground. Clutching at an injury across his chest, Lorenor looked up and coughed instinctively. Something was terribly wrong.

He felt himself trying to move his arms, but one of them felt like air. Turning to look at his arm, he saw that his right arm had been completely severed at the shoulder. Also, there was a hole in his chest where the energy had cascaded and brilliantly struck the mutant. "It's over for you." Came a far away voice with a far away sounding accent. He looked up and saw the form of his enemy. The mutant tried to reach for his weapon, but Mosoth stopped him by putting a heavy foot against his hand to hold it down. Lorenor could feel the bones in his hand breaking. "It shouldn't have turned out this way. You were mine. You were my lover." Mosoth said with tears streaming down his eyes. "I won't ever forget you. May you find peace in death that you knew not in life." And the veteran swung his weapon down across Lorenor's face. Trying to resist even to the very end, the Endless attempted to protect the host body by bursting out through his skin. But this was a trick that Mosoth had seen before and was not surprised which is why his titanium weapon glowed with energy. He meant to end this battle once and for all. Too many had died already.

"Fall Lorenor."

And so, Lorenor fell...

**Epilogue**


Pain. The pain filled his every pore. Lacing itself across his skin, and across his very soul. Lorenor walked across a pitch-black void uncertain of his bearings. He was in a very dark place, a very real place. Somehow, his very soul had been separated from his body as he was defeated from the previous battle. Vague images flashed across his mind as he fought an ally that had become an enemy. The Endless was bonded to him, even as a substance within his D.N.A. reacted. Lorenor walked across the void, not realizing entirely where he was. The very Anti-Firmanent itself. He saw the dead and dying, even as The Endless continued to wage their one-sided battle against the vampire nation. Lorenor moved forward, struggling through the shadow-filled land. Voices called out for help, in agony, lost. They reached towards Lorenor's potent energies. Darkness flowed from his body now as his soul was placed in the Anti-Firmanent. He made his way across this land as carefully as he could. The land was riddled with pitfalls and traps of its own, so the mutant trusted his senses even whilst The Endless took over his body.

Lorenor found himself standing before a large gate. Before the gate stood a large individual that the mutant had never seen before. Many smaller individuals, some around Lorenor's own height, others much taller than he, of various different races were present. Some creatures were passing the line and sneaking their way to and from the gate of bone. Understanding what was happening here, the mutant took a look up at the strange, ancient guardian. It was reading a list of some sort. Seeing a man dressed in furs, and wearing a beard, the mutant considered his position here. He pondered simply walking past the man guarding the door. Even in his current state of insanity, the mutant still possessed a semblance of his former self. Though with each passing moments, his memories were fading and becoming broken. Where once, the image of his death was strong and visible, the mutant even forgot that too. He forgot his place amidst the vampire nation, he forgot his friends and allies, and the long, rich history he had before them. The Lorenor of old was now gone forever.

Replacing the old Lorenor was a creature of darkness. Bonding to The Endless, Lorenor's destiny was sealed forever. He looked up at the man before him and the gate he was guarding. "Fuck this." He said out loud, and started to walk away from the line and the gate. Several individuals surrounded the mutant. "Where do you think you're going?" They asked. "All newcomers have to speak to Björmund." The same spirit entity said. Lorenor looked at the talking creature and saw a being that was without a face. It had a long neck, was colored with the very form of the darkness itself, and had long limbs. Chains and shackles were visible on its wrists and ankles. Several other nearby entities looked just like this one. Drawing a weapon of sorts, the mutant saw that the creature held a blade made of the dark itself. Lorenor took a step back. He felt fear gripping his heart as he stared at the being before him. Lorenor clenched his hands tightly, pondering just what to do next when something mysterious happened. A gate opened nearby to their position.

This gate lead to another realm of Althanas. One that Lorenor had no name for. "Accursed intruders!" The main spirit cursed as he looked at the materializing gate. It served as a distraction, and the mutant started to make his way from the group of spirit warriors. One of the creatures noticed this and placed a hand on the mutant's chest. Lorenor had no weapons, and no means of defending himself in this land. "Where do you think you are going, upstart?!" As the gate materialized, it opened. It revealed a glowing light from beyond it, and a presence stepped through the area beyond the gate. Once it stepped through, the door closed, but the gate remained. The mutant couldn't see what the stranger looked liked because his senses were still quite limited. He could only see his immediate surroundings even in this state of undeath. Lorenor was starting to panic now. He had no way of defending himself. His eyes flitted about as he looked for an escape route, several entities on the line were beginning to talk to themselves. Lorenor decided he was going to make a break for that door.

Suddenly diving towards the spirit warrior before him, the mutant rushed his body against his opponent. Lorenor saw that several of the spirit warriors were moving to intercept the new stranger. Taking full advantage of the moment, the mutant felt his spirit-body connect with the body of the other spirit. "Hey!" The creature yelled as it was knocked to the ground. Lorenor and the creature rolled around on top of each other for several feet as the mutant fought back. Weak and fragile, the mutant was getting more and more used to his current body. He found that his anatomy had greatly changed from its former self, and that his face was much different than it once was. Lorenor felt sharp claws extending from his fingertips and began to attempt to cut and slash at the being beneath him. As he did this, the creature moved to grab his neck. Lorenor reacted to this instinctively. He called out in agony, and something responded. Feeling a mysterious reaction within his flesh, something burst out from underneath. Lorenor cried in agony as The Endless heeded his call.

As a parasitical organism, The Endless needed to keep the host body alive as much as it needed to maintain its own existence. Lorenor was not sure how much time had passed whilst he fought the spirit warrior. A powerful hand wrapped itself around the mutant's neck. Feeling the air squeezed out of his lungs, the mutant's symbiote reacted and was able to protect the host. Feeling a bond to the mysterious creature, the mutant found he was able to communicate with The Endless now. It was a little discovery, but it was better than nothing. Feeling his sharp claws ripping the flesh of the spirit warrior, Lorenor took chunks of darkness out of the beast. When his opponent finally screamed in agony, the mutant moved to the man's arm, and made an attempt to break it. Without realizing it, his arms had instinctively wrapped themselves around the spirit warrior's elbow and he'd pulled quickly, rotating the elbow in an unnatural position. There was a hideous snapping sound as the arm was broken. Lorenor pushed the being's hand away from his neck, The Endless protecting him just enough to prevent the creature from breaking his neck.

"Feed from it!" A stranger called out in the common-tongue. "You will regain your strength!" Lorenor did as he was told. He pinned the being down against the ground even whilst it struggled against him. Lorenor could see darkness writhing around beneath him. His face suddenly mutated, muscles, tissues, and bones stretching downwards. His maxilla bone was distorted split apart of its own volition. His lower jaw split open into two equal halves. Either side developed sharp protrusions. Teeth in his upper mandible became deformed and much sharper than normal. They extended so that they were over an inch long. Lorenor reached down to the beasts' neck, holding him in place with his own body weight, and suddenly bit down against the creatures' neck. Feasting upon the spirit warrior, Lorenor killed the beast with a certain sense of satisfaction. Darkness filled his heart now as he embraced a new state of existence. Where he was once a vampire, the mutant had become something else entirely. He'd embraced his destiny without fear.

Lorenor's face was now hideously scarred. Where once he'd possessed a handsome face, the mutant's face was now distorted. A terrible scar was visible from the sword-strike that had done him in. The scar had touched him even at the level of his soul. Lorenor looked upon the dying creature beneath him even as he absorbed him into himself. Fading off, the creature was an elemental, and thus had little corporeal substance binding him to the normal laws of physics. So in essence, Lorenor completely swallowed him from the position of the initial bite. It was energy, so Lorenor ate the energy completely. And thusly, Lorenor's desire to feed off monsters was born. The mutant stood up from his kill. Staring at him in shock, the other warriors were unsure of what to do next. They saw that Lorenor could defeat them. Lorenor turned towards the other group of creatures and was pleased to find that the stranger was in heated battle with the rest of the warriors. Wielding a sword of some sort, the stranger was capable of defeating his opponents with relative ease.

Howls filled the air as the creatures were defeated one by one. Soon, the remaining creatures opted for retreat and survival. "We won't forget this!" One of them called as they returned to the gate of bone. Lorenor broke away from the line of spirits and made his way to the stranger undisturbed this time. The mutant looked at the stranger and saw a shadowy form, with glowing purple eyes. The shadowy presence was hard to make out, but there was something quite familiar about him. "We shall go to the land of Phantaria. Come with me if you want to live." The stranger said calmly. He extended a hand towards Lorenors' person. The mutant took the man's hand and his new journey began. The stranger did something and opened up the gate to the new land of Phantaria, and together, they stepped inside of it. There was a brilliant flash of light. Together, they ended up in the land of doors. Lorenor saw many floors of floating in the air, some with interconnected staircases. The mutant reacted to this by whistling at the awesome construct. By then, his face had returned to normal.

"Why are you helping me?" Lorenor asked.

"It is my mission." The stranger responded simply. "I come from a far off land. I cannot say anymore than that. I am risking certain doom even contacting you. But, I need to ask you one question. Do you want my help?"

"Yes I do. I have no idea where I am." Lorenor said, still in a pain that affected his very soul. "You're in Phantaria, the land of doors." I can guide you but you must do exactly as I say." Lorenor nodded at that and obeyed the mysterious stranger. "What's your name?" The stranger asked. "I'm Lorenor." Nodding towards Lorenor, the stranger simply kept walking towards one of the doors. "Nice to meet you Lorenor. I can't tell you my name at this point. But I need you to do one thing for me. Do you swear allegiance to me?" Lorenor nodded. "I do. I need to in order to survive." The stranger nodded. "One day you will understand this. But for now, let us say your life is in danger. You have The Endless now. One day, it will save your very soul. Protect it, like it will protect you. For one day you will learn how to control it by thought alone. For now you are weak yet, you are still a young derelict ghoul. Learn to survive. Learn to live in the World of Darkness." The stranger said calmly. "I offer you one piece of advice. Listen to your blood. And remember this: you will face an important choice in the near future. A choice that will affect the very history of Althanas as you will become one of it's key players. Remember this, and embrace your significance." Lorenor nodded. "Where do we go now?"

"You will return to Haidia and train in it's wilderness. From there, head to Gorandis and Radasanth. Begin your training in Ruild." Lorenor nodded, he understood what Radasanth meant, but he did not understand what Gorandis and Ruild meant at that point in time. One day he would. They found a particular door. "Go through and you will return to Haidia. Live Lorenor. Fight. You will embrace your future." The mutant nodded. Without saying another word, the mutant entered that single door and stepped through. There was a brilliant flash of light, and a rush of power, and the mutant found himself in one of Haidia's many caverns. The door vanished. Lorenor felt an energy in that cavern. A tremendous pulse of power. He looked about and saw a dead body on the ground, a recent body at that. Looting the body, he grabbed two hundred gold for himself, and some basic supplies. Once he'd gotten his fill of looting, the mutant fed on the blood of the warrior, eating his flesh. Lorenor knew he would need to survive in order to build his strength. Now, he was merely a derelict ghoul with no power of his own.

One day, he would become a living avatar of darkness. One day he would shake the pillars of history itself...

The End.

Sorry that so many people seemed to drop out of this as it went on. Though it’s quite a big thread, I’ll be giving the full commentary where possible. Hope this all helps, if you have questions feel free to send me a message.

Continuity 5

Lorenor: This goes back to what I say in the clarity section, but it should be noted because it’s not a specific time so much as the story itself. I see that you tried to add something special to the story along the lines of what exactly is going on. I mean, specialized units for the vampires, interesting ideas to draw the reader into the overall conflict between the Endless and the Vampires… but it was lost to me. Why are there Spartans? I, as the reader, didn’t get enough about what an Endless is to understand why it’s a dangerous opponent. I’m also missing a few other things: Why are the two fighting? Why is Lorenor a Vampire merc leader? Things like that would have helped a lot.

Of Water: Why are you in Haidia? How do two water dragons find their way down to the underground caves of the demons and vampires? Why are they on land, much less there anyway? All of these things could have helped a lot with understanding what was going on and helped the reader figure out what the story is about. It would help the clarity as well as persona.

Setting 6

General Note: You have five senses, use them all. It’s a common issue that I see with writing, when people tend to just use sight instead of everything else. You have other senses, and in a world like Haidia they can all become paramount and important. The smell of the place, what you hear, how it tastes (from the air to the battleground), and the way it all feels can easily be displayed with the setting. The second thing to always remember is that you want to show, not tell. Just throwing me a scene and how it looks only goes so far. Tell me how it makes the character feel, tell me what they think about it through inner dialogue, actions and reactions… all of this comes together to make something altogether more fulfilling than just telling me through your narrative what is going on.

Lorenor: I saw that you started to put in some details as to what the world of Haidia looked like… however there was more missing that should have been added to make the world something more real. I got that it was a cavernous area, and that the “sky” was dark all the time. But there is a lot more to the world than just that… it’s underground, yes, but what about the unique lighting? There are supposed to be something along the line of orange glowing light that is almost supernatural. How does the setting make you feel? How do you, as a character used to the natural world (or perhaps used to Haidia), think about the differences? These questions about how you feel in this odd world help form the setting as well as help with your persona score.

The description of the teleportation area, having been done about 3-4 times in different posts, was a bit too much. I got it the first time, the second helping solidify the idea, but the next time it was explained was just slowing everything down. It hurt the pacing, but at the same time the setting since it was just you expounding again on what you already explained. I’d suggest leaving it after a little bit, unless you are taking the time to go into something directly important with the situation described in the thread instead of more general description.

Of Water: Same questions generally. Though in a much more specific way… your characters are those of the water realm, I would assume the oceans on the surface of Althanas. Not only do they get put in a completely different situation when they are Haidia, which is all brimstone and heat… but there isn’t a lot of water. How do they feel about the situation they are in, about the world they aren’t used to? The questions pertain to the differences between what your characters are used to and the world you are in more so than anyone else…

Vornwin: Elves in Haidia? Armor that mirrored the reflection of the sun? There isn’t a sun in the underground cavernous lands of Haidia, and elves aren’t exactly welcome there. Who are the elves and why are they there?

Pacing 6

Lorenor: Like I say below, pacing is about pulling in the reader and not letting them go. It’s about how well you write the story and how well it flows. You write a good story, don’t get me wrong, but it seems at times to be long winded and laboriously devised. The reader, and myself as a judge, has to shift through long posts to get the gist of what is going on. I’d suggest taking a little bit of time to add a small bit of brevity to the overall feel. There are times when I thought that part of a paragraph was unnecessary, and other times when entire paragraphs were. Your writing style tends to add a lot, making it very detailed, but without the overall flair that draws the reader in. It’s like reading a technical manual sometimes, whereas others it’s like reading a brilliantly devised story. Make sure when you’re writing to figure out what would make it flow better, make sure that the story that you’re telling doesn’t seem to drag on and I think you will do fine with pacing in the future.

Of Water: Pacing is all about how the thread moves and flows as a story, how much interest you keep with the reader. In all… the tense issues, the lack of other area’s in the rubric, as well as the numerous and continued mechanical issues made me as a reader not want to actually go through the posts. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but every time one of your posts came up it took me a lot not to just skip it. The pacing was shot by the fact that I had to re-read almost every post you wrote multiple times to try and make sense of it all. Through the grammatical mistakes as well as the technical mistakes I found that the clarity and pacing was destroyed, and made me as a reader thoroughly dislike every paragraph that came next.

Dialogue 5

Vornwin: The prayer by the dwarf was funny, realistic for a blunt mercenary, and made the character seem more real. That is the key to dialogue, as far as I’m concerned. Make it feel natural, not stand out to a point of making the reader note it in the wrong way, and have it add to the general feel of the personality of the character speaking. You did well with the dwarf, but I’d suggest that you take a little more time to develop your own character’s dialogue.

Lorenor: As said above, the dialogue is what I like to see develop characters. It’s often used in trite ways, as if to just fill out the post… but it is valuable in a much more pertinent way when used correctly. I would suggest that you allow yourself to use internal dialogue a little more to display the true nature of the character. You used it in a way that made it seem like you put only the slimmest bit of dialogue in so that Lorenor could convey the basics. Though, what you thought was not put into dialogue form… but given to the reader through narrative instead. I’ll expound upon that in the persona section.

Action 5

Vornwin: When the battle began, it was like you had set up the field to your advantage before you had even entered it. Boulders were set aside to roll down the hill at the enemy? When were the boulder’s collected, how did everyone know what was about to happen… things like that tend to detract from the setting, but more importantly the action in general. It wasn’t exactly realistic, but it was also something completely unexpected. Proper, realistic action is the key to a good score for action, and that was lacking almost as soon as it all started.

Lorenor: Your use of the setting, the general feel of what you were fighting, as well as how you portrayed the reactions was a good way of writing out the action. All in all it was well done. I would have like a bit more in the beginning, but it wasn’t bad.

Persona 6

Lorenor: Up until the point where you were in serious conflict with the Endless that was attacking you I didn’t really get a good feel for WHO the character was. I got a little bit, before you took up the quest as a solo, but till that point there was a severe lack. After that point, it was a thick display of personality that came through quite well… despite being a little bit verbose most of the time. I was engaged and draw in by the battle and the events following, enough so that I could not help but enjoy the pacing, action, and persona displayed. Well done, if not a bit late. I would suggest starting out with a little more of that to begin with, and carrying it on as you go.

Furthermore, your commentary about being a Spartan Warrior… it was confusing as I said before. I would have liked more explanation for that as well as more about how it affected the character, and how his reactions and thoughts and everything were pulled together by his affiliation. It would have added more to the persona in general, as well as given me a better feel for the character and those around him.

Technique 6

Of Water: You write in a very informal tone that actually adds to the mechanical issues that I noted below. There is little to no use of advanced technique, of any kind, and the tense agreements as well as what else was noted in the section below added to the overall issues I had with not only reading your posts… but actually understanding them in general. You also change the style of writing in an awkward way during the 4th post. It seems that you are telling the story from limited omniscient in the 2nd post, setting it up as an outside observer, when you get to your next post its limited omniscient from the viewpoint of a specific character.

“To take shelters with you, to create them, to make them so that you can carry them about, put them up and take them down, well, that’s just something so completely unnatural for his kind to contemplate.” ~ [4] ~ I was really trying to avoid putting quoted passages into the rubric up here, was going to add the majority of the issues into general notes at the end… but this is just too hard to pass up on. You went from third person to second person. Also, this is a VERY long run-on that isn’t even a sentence except for the fact that Word would recognize it based on the merit of a lot of words and comma’s used. It would need to be completely re-written in order to make it something more grammatically correct. There are comma mistakes, second person mistakes, semi-colon’s could be used, you dip back into the informal common speech way of talking, as well as fail to continue the parallelism within the sentence itself.

Mechanics 6

Lorenor: You have a few things here and there that are missing. In general it’s mostly comma usage that caught me while reading, missing them more than using them incorrectly. However you have a few points where you tend to write capitalized words instead of just emphasizing them in some other way. I’d suggest instead of putting a word in CAPS to make it stand out, put it in italics when it’s not in a line of thought. That should make it stand out just as much, but the reader that’s learned correct grammatical style will automatically put the emphasis on the italicized words as they read.

Of Water: Your mechanical writing is terrible. There are obvious mistakes that continue on and on. Take the time to read over the posts you write so that you can make sure that they are readable. There are a lot of mistakes when it comes to the comma usage. Multiple times you simply have sentences that are not complete sentences, just dependent clauses; other times you have run-ons that are composed by incomplete sentences. There are a lot of times when you switch between present tense and past tense as well. Word usage is also an issue, since when you write you seem to use words that don’t fit what you mean… or are close, such as “Armoury” instead of “Armor”. ((This was all noted from just the first 5 paragraphs of your very first post, btw. That’s why the score is affected so hard.))

Clarity 5

Lorenor: The opening post… was so confusing it was hard to get anything from it. I read it over about 3 times, but still couldn’t find a way to make sense of what it said. I don’t know what Spartan’s had to do with Althanas, whether the things attacking were attacking your character or some other character and you were just watching. In the end, I just pushed to the next post and hoped that things would make more sense later.

Of Water: If you had been the only one that this score was based on, much like mechanics and technique, I would have had to give a 0 without question. The fact that the posts that you wrote made me cringe every time I saw them didn’t help. Please take the time to go over what you wrote, multiple times if necessary. Read it out loud, ask yourself if it makes sense, and then edit it as is necessary. There were many times when I re-read a single sentence so many times that I had to just quit reading it and move on because no matter what I did it didn’t make any sense to me.

Wild Card 7

Adding a little more here because you pushed through and finished it, which is always something to be proud of and note. Nothing I hate more than just submitting something that’s not complete because the partners dropped out. Congrats on the finished product!

Score 57

Rewards

Lorenor: 2300 exp | 400 gold

Of Water and Scales: 380 exp | 50 gold

Vornwin: 370 exp | 50 gold

exp and gp added!!!!!!