Orchids_Mantis
11-25-2010, 11:00 PM
He raised an arm to cover his face as another nearby building exploded with a thunderous bang, sending pieces of rock and burning wood flying –and setting another three houses on fire. He lowered his arm, squinting at the flame’s brightness, and scowling as the mindless Flame Walker that had caused the explosion floated out of the burning rubble, and past the five charred bodies that had once been the building’s occupants. “Shella!” a nearby voice shouted. He spun, seeing one of the creatures walking behind another series of houses, summoning yet more Flame Walkers, which instantly set fire to the surrounding area –destroying two more homes.
Without hesitation he ran forward and hefted his sword, readying to attack the brown creature. As he neared the beast spun, its arm flying out and striking him midriff, sending him tumbling backward into the charred wall of a collapsed house. He grunted as he got to his feet, quickly using a soul stone to heal the cracked ribs he’d suffered from the strike, then charged again. The Shella brought its arm across and lashed out again, but this time he leaned back and dropped to the ground, sliding under the swinging claw, then raised his blade and pointed it forward. His slid halted as the tip of his weapon pierced the beast’s belly. The Shella howled in range and lifted both its arms, readying to crush the fighter –just as the fighter got to his feet and spun, pulling his sword up and forward, cutting a large slice up the Shella’s chest. The creature’s eyes widened, its body stiffening; the bright flames around its horn dying out as it swayed back and forth, then finally crashed to the ground on its back.
He turned, wincing as another set of burning houses collapsed, cries and shouts coming from inside the building abruptly ending. He shook his head, his stomach twisting itself into a knot, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t supposed to happen.” He stood, looking about at the scenes of destruction and chaos that were enveloping the town. Screams and cries or pain and terror filled the air, smoke billowed up into the orange-tinted night sky or Elderine. He tilted his head back and let out a tortured howl. “Mortis!” he shouted, “You didn’t tell me this would happen! Damn you, Mortis! Damn you!” Another nearby building exploded, he felt something hard strike him against the base of his skull, then fell to the ground, the scene turning black, the screams fading into the darkness.
“Hey….Hey,” a voice called, “Hey! You! Get up!” He opened his eyes, shutting them immediately as he found he was looking directly into the sun, “Gah!” “Hey, get up!” the voice called again as he righted himself. He shook his head, looking at the countryside around him, and the old man sitting on the side of the carriage staring at him. “End of the line, sir,” the old man said, “Sorry but you have to get off, this is as far as I go.” “I understand,” he answered, quickly swinging himself over the side of the wooden carriage. He stretched out his arms, then looked around, “Where’s the town?” “Town?” the driver replied, “Ain’t no town here, son, not for a few miles yet.” He raised an eyebrow, “You don’t go to the town to pick up people?” The driver shook his head, the horse in front of the carriage neighing slightly –as though laughing at his question, “I pick ‘em up here or they don’t get a ride; that’s the rule.” “I see,” he answered, “well then, I guess I’ll be on my way.” “That’s fifty copper for the lift,” the diver replied. He nodded, reaching into his bag and pulling out some money, handing it to the old man. “Hey, son, look…I don’t make that much money in this business -I don’t have change for a silver,” the driver said as he looked at the silver coin in his hand. “Keep the change,” he said with a wry grin, “You can use it to fix up that beat-up cart of yours…Teva knows it could use some padding if it’s going to carry people that far.”
The old man looked at the coin, then at the passenger, then nodded, “Thank you. So what exactly do you plan on doing now, boy –if you don’t mind my asking?” the man shrugged, “what I always do when I get to the end of the line: I find a new line that starts there.” “No new line around here for some ways,” the driver said in a cautious tone, “Not for a long ways.” The passenger chuckled, “Well then I guess I have a bit of a hike ahead of me. Which way is the nearest town?” “About an hour’s walk that way,” the driver said, pointing, “Just keep followin’ the road.” “I see,” the passenger nodded, “Well, thanks for the lift.” He turned, starting to walk away. “Uh, listen…sonny,” the driver’s voice came again. The man turned, seeing the driver sitting at the reigns of the carriage, a conflicted expression on his face, “Look…I…I can take you back a ways, if ya want…I pass by some other wagon stops in about a day.” The man smiled, figuring he was offering a free ride for having been given so much money as payment, and shook his head, “That’s okay. I prefer it this way.” The driver’s head tilted down and he nodded, “Okay, well…suit yourself…but be careful out there, boy. This is dangerous country.” The passenger smiled again, patting the sword at his side, “Don’t’ worry about me, I’m quite capable –I can handle whatever comes my way. “I hope you’re right, boy,” the driver answered as he whipped the reigns lightly, the horse and carriage turning around then starting to pull away, “I sure hope you’re right.” The man stood puzzled a few moments as he watched the carriage grow smaller on the roadway, then turned and started walking down the road toward –what he hoped was- a town.
It was about two hours, actually, before he finally walked into the town. As always a bunch of people stared at him as he walked by –not many were used to seeing strangers this far out in the countryside. A man carrying a bag bumped into him, then abruptly stopped and apologized, “Oh, excuse me, sir. Didn’t mean to bump ya like that.” “Not a problem,” he replied. The man smiled and turned to go on his way, then felt a strong hand set on his shoulder, “Before you go, however, I’d like my wallet back.” The man carrying the bag turned, bag dropping to the ground as he saw a sword pointing toward his neck. “Well,” the man with the sword said softly, “Gonna give it back?” “Right,” the man stammered as he reached into his pocket, “Y-yessir….here you go sir….sorry about that, sir.” “Not a problem,” he answered, releasing the man’s shoulder to take the wallet, “Just don’t do it any more or I might have to take action. Got it?” The man gulped, nodding quickly. “I trust ALL the money is still there?” the man asked. Again the thief nodded. “Good,” he answered, “Because I know how much I had –down to the last copper….and I’d be most vexed if I found some was missing.” He inched the sword a bit closer to the thief’s neck, “VERY…vexed…infuriated, really. I trust you understand.” The thief gulped again, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of silver coins, placing them back in the swordsman’s wallet. “Wise decision,” the swordsman said. He put the wallet back into his pocket then sheathed his sword, the thief still standing terrified in front of him. The swordsman looked up, “You can go now.” The thief made no reply, aside from quickly dashing away, quickly vanishing from sight.
The swordsman continued to walk down the street –more attention focused on him now than before. He turned when he saw a small eatery along the road, and walked into it. “We’re closing!” the keeper called as soon as he had opened the door. “Closing?” the man echoed, “But it’s not even dusk!” “Exactly,” the keeper answered, “I’m sorry, but we’re not making any more food or serving more people until tomorrow.” The man sighed, nodding his head, “fine, your café, your rules. Can you tell me where I can find an inn, though?” “Inn?” the keeper repeated incredulously, back straightening, “There’s no INN in this town!” “A bed and breakfast, then?” he asked. The keeper gave a sharp laugh, “Bed and breakfast? Where do you think you are, pal?” “I don’t know where I am, actually,” he answered, “I like it that way.” “A wanderer, eh?” the keeper asked with an ironic smile, “Well mister Wanderer you should know that this town doesn’t have inns, or hotels, or anything of the sort. We’ve got shelters, that’s it. You’re welcome to join us in there, if ya like.” “Shelters, eh? Never heard of communal housing it put that way before,” the swordsman chuckled. “I’m not talking about a house, bud. I mean we have underground areas made of stone with heavy iron doors. No one sleeps above ground at night,” the keeper replied. The swordsman’s eyebrows knit, “Why’s that?” “Same reason we close up before the sun sets,” the keeper answered with a gesture outside.
The man turned, seeing people exiting out of every shop and home on the street, quickly walking the same direction down the main road. He looked down the road in the direction opposite where the people were coming from –the Isyan sun just starting to set behind the green hills past the town, a strange howl echoing through the air. “We’ve got a little problem with certain visitors at night,” the keeper answered from behind him, “Anyone not in the shelter by nightfall is locked out, and anyone not in the shelter at night…is dead.” “I see,” the swordsman said with a nod –now understanding why the carriage driver would not drive into town, why the next carriage line didn’t start here –and why the driver was trying to get him to travel with him away from the area. The strange scream came again, much louder this time. “They’re coming,” the keeper said, pushing past him, “If ya don’t mind, I'm going to lock up and get to the shelter. They’ll be closing the doors for the night in a few minutes -I'd like to be in it when they do.”