HomeHomeRegisterLog in

Share | 
 

 Ch. 31: The Winds Change

Go down 
AuthorMessage
Dye
Captain
Captain
avatar

Position : Head of Internal Affairs and Discipline

Posts : 3019
Join date : 2010-03-21

AQW Account
Username:
Level:
Upgrade?: No

PostSubject: Ch. 31: The Winds Change   Thu Apr 29, 2010 6:51 pm

The base of the 13 Lord of Chaos wasn’t the most intimidating one that Saint had ever seen. Nor was it the most heavily guarded one. But it was definitely one of the biggest. As Saint and the rest of his attack group popped up from behind a nearby hill, just hours after they had left the Requiem base, they all gasped. Before them was a small city, lit with a ring of torches and surrounded with a low wall of stone. Around it, will-o-wisps danced over the bubbling surface of a bog. The stench was light, but everyone wrinkled their noses as a cold wind wafted the smell towards them.



“Alright guys, we split up from here. There are seven entrances to this base, to allow it to empty as quickly as possible. Each one of us will take our assigned entrance and enter it as discreetly as possible. We can’t scale the walls because a permanent charm is set over them. And we can’t stray off the road because the marshes will suck you in if you lay a foot on it. So stick to the road, stick to the entrances, and stick to the plan. Good luck everyone. We will meet again.”



-----



Tradewind Creed followed the far-left path, which took him around to the west-side of the enemy base. He had been following the road for half an hour in silence, with nothing but the sound of his own footsteps and the low bubbling of the marshes around him. His scythe black on black, hidden in the darkness with no moon to reveal it. His book of wind runes safely stowed now that he was approaching the enemy base. Then, the cold wind around him rose to a feverish pitch, the sound of its screaming blocking out all other sound. Creed turned his head left and right, his long white hair blowing around him, silver eyes straining to see into the murky darkness. His black wings opened up behind him, testing the nature of the wind blowing. The wind carried the taint of magic with it.



A raucous laughter interrupted his thoughts, cutting above the wind. In front of him, a shape appeared, wearing a silver, flowing garment that seemed to blend into the surroundings. Creed narrowed his eyes. He could barely make out a man’s face, a short goatee that ended in a sharp point, thin elfin ears, sharp teeth.



“It’s nice of you to drop in. I was getting lonely!” More laughter, harsh and ear-splitting. Creed frowned. What was with this guy? “I’m Mephisto, just in case you were wondering. Twelfth best mercenary in the world of Lore. Killing’s my job, hope you don’t mind if I kill you!” A silver glint. Creed saw the mercenary’s fist speeding towards him, flew up, out of harm’s way. Mephisto paused. “Ooh, you can fly? Guess what? So can I!” Mephisto snapped a finger, summoning a dark nimbus cloud out of the blackness around him. Alighting on it, the mercenary flew up. On each of his hands was a curious weapon. It consisted of a blade connected to twin bars that extended down the length of his forearm, connected together by a bar that ran across the palm. Dual katars. Creed grimaced. If one of those got underneath his guard, he could be in serious trouble.



More importantly however, was the fact that Mephisto could fly. Creed shut his eyes as a fierce wind blew in his direction, buffeting him and tearing a few loose feathers from his wings.



“I’m gonna rip those wings off of you, little birdie!” Mephisto was shrieking, tongue lolling to one side. Creed said nothing, instead trying to make forward progress. He summoned his own wind to counteract the gale before him, nullifying the effect. Mephisto lost his smile for a second, only to grin wider as the wind began to blow even harder than before. “Don’t try that crap on me! I am the Zephyr, the Lord of the West Wind, King of the four Winds! A little birdie like you can’t touch me!” The wind suddenly aimed downwards, sending Creed spiraling headfirst into the bog. He was up in a flash, using a light, warm breeze to clean the swamp water from his wings. Mephisto was upon him in a flash, stabbing at him from all sides. Creed slashed wide with his scythe, creating a wall of air around him. Mephisto grinned, poked a hole in the wall, flew in, both blades raised. Creed parried the first attack with an uppercut from his scythe, grazing Mephisto’s cheek. The mercenary pulled back, pausing for a moment, black nimbus billowing under him. Then he was back at it, slashing, stabbing, forcing Creed to use the handle of his scythe to parry. Then a kick, catching Creed in the jaw, allowing Mephisto to nail three swift strikes on him with his katars. Two hits landed in his stomach. Creed winced as he felt his guts tear and begin to bleed. If he had eaten dinner, he would have been in even more pain. The third strike was more serious, landing on his chest, puncturing his left lung. Mephisto pulled away before Creed could counter with his scythe, leaving him hanging in mid-air, wings struggling to support him, a line of blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth as blood began to fill his lungs.



“You’re dead, little birdie!” Mephisto yelled from atop his black nimbus. “Those wounds I gave you are fatal!” Creed landed on the road, feeling weak, then fell to his knees. Reaching for his book of wind runes, he began to quickly scroll through it, searching for a healing spell. “Give it up already, I said you’re dead!” A gust of vicious wind knocked the book out of Creed’s hands, sending it into the bog. “There’s no wind magic greater than mine! I am the Zephyr, King of the Winds!” He closed his eyes, feeling his strength leave him with the wind. Then he heard it, the sound of the wind speaking to him with many voices, just like it used to do long ago. His strength returned, the pain lessened, Creed smiled. He had one last trump card.



Mephisto stopped mid-sentence in his ranting as Creed stood up, white hair streaming with silver magic. He opened his eyes. They shone white in the darkness. He ripped off his black cloak, letting it fly away in a torrent of wind magic. On his bare chest were black tattoos, symbols from an ancient culture long forgotten. Creed’s wounds were still bleeding, but the flow of blood was weak. Gripping his black scythe with one hand, Creed spread his wings and launched into the air, supported by a blast of wind. Mephisto raised his katars to defend as Creed brought his scythe down, impaling both of Mephisto’s hands, scything right through them and into his chest. The black scythe burst out of the mercenary’s back, mottled with blood, as Creed brought the entire mess hurtling down to the ground, pinning Mephisto to the roadside. The mercenary gurgled for a few moments, began to say, “I am the…” then went limp.



Creed yanked the scythe out of the bloody corpse, folded his wings behind him, and continued along his way. Paused for a moment after ten steps, turned halfway to look at the dead mercenary.



“You’re the Zephyr? Pardon me for disagreeing, but that was a lousy lie, and your wind magic didn’t even come close to matching your words. I would know, for I am the true Zephyr.”
Back to top Go down
 
Ch. 31: The Winds Change
Back to top 
Page 1 of 1

Permissions in this forum:You cannot reply to topics in this forum
 :: Stories :: Requiem: Origins-
Jump to: