Ultimatum

[-Relentless]

Since the cataclysmic battle two weeks past, the Sealed Lands had undergone some noticeable changes. The most obvious was the new, gigantic city perched atop the hill where the former Sky Temple had stood. The place was apparently made up of the armor of what the Zalerans had called the Dark Colossus. The city looked nothing like the corpse of a giant colossus that it had once been, however. Due to some form of inexplicable magic, it seemed that whatever the Dark Colossus was or had been made from had reverted to its original form – a metropolis, one larger than any city he had ever seen. When viewed from the topmost tier of Fortis Montis the city appeared to have been constructer singularly from some unknown, dark grey metal. Numerous spires dotted the city, several of them almost as tall as the highest tier of the mountain city. Perhaps most impressive of all, though, was the colossal tower which dominated the center of the city – it was at half as tall again compared to the other tallest buildings.

A large, circular wall surrounded the entire city, and upon further inspection it appeared that several walls ran through the city as well, dividing it into several districts. Despite the fact that the last two weeks had consisted almost entirely of sunny, cloudless days, a fine lair of mist hung over the city, obscuring everything but the walls and the tallest buildings. It was undoubtedly magical in origin, but he had never seen anything like it before.

A new river had also formed, and its emergence was almost as strange of an occurrence as the formation of the city. The ruins of a large fountain, formerly the Fountain of Lights in the Sky Temple, seemed to be the source of a never-ending flow of water. The cataclysmic storm which had flooded a large part of the Lands had changed the landscape in several places - a large channel had been created, and it was into this that the waters from the fountain now flowed. The river wound its way around the southeastern side of the city, coming within a quarter mile of its walls before it straightened out and ran into the ocean.

Debris from the ruins of the Sky Temple still littered the savannah, most notably around the new city (which appeared to have fallen directly on where the Sky Temple had once been). Other than this, there were no apparent signs of the battle that had transpired two weeks passed – the Zaleran engineers had collected the disabled and destroyed remains of the colossi for investigation.

Two weeks the city had been there, and still it had not been entered. The Ashbringer was aware that there had been a heated debate about the place among the residents of the mountain city – it seemed the primary argument against exploring was fear of the unknown. After all, this had been the Dark Colossus, and they had all seen firsthand what the titan was capable of. Last night, however, Magnus had made the final decision, determining that a small party would enter and explore the city the following day.

The exploration party consisted of General Magnus, General Madidus, himself, an old, crippled healer by the name of Raest, and Magnus’ chosen elite – the seven swordsman-mages whom Ashbringer had dubbed warrior poets during the colossi attack two weeks previous.

The small party set off at noon and traveled in relative silence. As they had left the citizen-soldiers of Fortis Montis had been gathered upon every tier to watch their departure, as if they were men marching off to war and death rather than an expedition party. True, there might be some danger present in the city, but he personally doubted there was – if something was lurking in the city it would have emerged by now. Even if something presented itself it would likely be negligible, considering that they had some of the most skilled warriors alive.

It took just over an hour to reach the outskirts of the city. Pieces of rubble (perhaps an inaccurate term, considering there were some pieces well over thirty feet long) were still strewn across the landscape, remnants of the destroyed Sky Temple. The mist that lay over the city had, if anything, thickened as they had drawn closer. The Ashbringer could sense a vast amount of magical saturation in this place, which was incredible, considering the lands around them were far more embedded with magic than most places in the world.

Ahead, barely visible through the thick lair of fog, he could make out a gap in the wall - the city's gate, and it was open.

[-Demosthεnes]

Thick steel boots sludged through the moist earth near the fog. Magnus' eyes were sharp and quick as he watched the place, taking in every single piece of information available. He scanned the large, somewhat foreboding black gates, high and strong, made of a metal he had never seen before. Black spikes edged the top of the gate, and large steel rods dropped from the spikes down the sheer face of the gates, thick bolts holding the supports to the gate. It was a frightening first look at the city, although one thing kept Magnus from having any worry. The gates stood wide open.

His seven men were at his sides, fanning out in a large semicircle. Their swords were loose in their sheaths, and their eyes were just as sharp as Magnus'. Most of them wore grimaces, the look that men wore as they stared across the battlefield at the banners of their enemies. Magnus' face was blank. He walked upright, his face centered on the gates towering through the mist.

It had been an eventful few weeks. Stressful. The battle, the turning of the skies and the raw magical essence burning through the area had changed its landscape. Sand hills were reduced to large, soil planes, and the area no longer looked like a desert. The magic had seemed to help in fertilizing the area too, already thick grasses and underbrush had began to grow underfoot. A large river had also been formed, from the floods the skies had produced and the breaking of the well. It ran thick; Magnus suspected the area would soon be prosperous, the soil was fresh and farms would spring up.

Demosthenes was back at the city still, he had no interest in leaving it, and since the arrival of the Zalerans, had seemed to have little interest in governing the city. All day, he sat in his hut on the top of the mountain, meditating, feeling the receding of the energies from the area. He had said Magnus would eventually feel it too, and the energies were so slow in falling away, so thick and musky, it would be decades before they were gone entirely. Captain Williams was left in charge of the mountain city before the people, keeping order and maintaining the heightened morale of the people after the victory.

Raest, an old healer, was also with them, and the young Levi Madidus, a newly dubbed Zaleran General. Magnus did not know what happened to the returned Ashbringer, although it was a top priority, he had more things to accomplish before worrying about him. Demosthenes' had enough power to stop him from destroying the city, although Magnus thought it wouldn't come to that. The first thing on the agenda though, was exploring this new city, Ultimatum it had been dubbed by him and the rest of the leaders. It was a fitting name.

"Be quiet, be watchful." He spoke it calmy, soothingly, making sure everybody was on the same page. His men made no affirmation to his words, the words had been impressed on their minds since their departure. They were expert soldiers, and expert magicians; Magnus had no doubt of their abilities and deftness in exploration. The city loomed above them now, the thick fog swirling about their slowly advancing forms as they marched in silence towards the gates. They were only fifty meters away now, and loomed, towering, above their heads. The city walls were also huge, in a dark grey that resembled the color of his armor. It was a strange coincidence.

He slowly reached up as they passed under the gates, about fifteen meters from hinge to hinge, dark metal under their feet rang quietly as his spurred boots walked across them. His hand found the grip of his sword on his back, sticking above his right shoulder, and he pulled slowly, just a tug. The sword hadn't needed any loosening, he kept his equipment well polished and oiled, but it was a soothing habit, keeping his mind at rest, his mind prepared. His men all did the same a moment after, he understood their reluctance to make any noise, and as he did it, they followed.

The city was strange. The architecture was almost gothic, and everything was still made of the dark, grey color. He looked from door to door, window to window. It looked like a ghost town, as if some long-gone people had cleaned up and left. The doors were large, as were the height of the buildings, most two or three stories high. Spires and tracings were found on all the buildings, ornately carved around the doors. The city looked grand. The fog had somewhat faded, but still hung about their feet obscuring his feet and the path he walked on. His head turned slowly side to side as he examined the buildings and watched for danger. There was a strange feeling to the place, but so far, it seemed an extremely suitable place for a very large colony to live.

[-Relentless]

Shrill laughter filled the tense air of quiet that had fallen over the members of the expedition team upon entering the city. It began just as they passed the first four way intersection, where the road from the gate that they had entered less than a minute ago ran adjacent to a street almost as large. The entire city held an eerie air of foreboding, as if something unseen was lurking in the thick mist that had not yet cleared.

The moment the laughter began Ashbringer froze in place, his right hand darting to the pommel of his greatsword. The others in the party continued for another step before stopping, all of them turning around to look back at Ashbringer in an attempt to discern the source of the laughter, which seemed to be coming from his direction.

The source of the chilling laughter was soon revealed, as what appeared to be a shadow stepped out from directly behind Ashbringer, appearing from nothingness. It was hard to tell exactly what the creature was - it had a vaguely human form, but it resembled Ashbringer more than anything. Its skin bore the same shadowy hue as his, but, unlike him, the creature's clothes (robes and a cloak with a hood pulled up to shroud the face) seemed to be made of shadow as well. It was short, a good two feet shorter than Ashbringer, and it seemed to be more insubstantial as well - its skin and clothing appeared wispy, giving off the impression that if one were to reach out and touch it their hand would go straight through. Its eyes were similar to Ashbringer's as well, but appeared far more chaotic and bore an insane gleam - there was a deep purple where the pupil and iris should have been, a color which faded to midnight black around the edges.

"How quaint of you, Sir Magnus. Alas, I'm afraid that this party of unequivocal power has little to fear from whatever fierce denizens may be lurking in this repugnant mist. Indeed, I must make the bold assumption that, when coupled with your god and my austere partner Epoch here, along with the unmeasured abundance of my unfathomable intellect, we are quite the force to be reckoned with. After all, we have the archetypical Sir Magnus here, the valiant hero in dazzling armor whose name shall strike fear in the hearts of his enemies and make the maidens sopping wet between their legs. And then the one who fancies himself a God, this Demosthenes - quite a bold proclamation, if I say so myself. And one he might want to avoid making in the presence of our mutual friend Epoch, here. Of course, you all look at me as if I am insane, but fear not - in my genius I know the question on the tip of your tongues. Who is this Epoch you speak of, Edgewalker? Why, it is none other than Epoch Ruin, who has recently taken upon himself the name Ashbringer. I am deeply surprised, however; indeed, startled - how, after two weeks of acquaintance, have you not learnt his true name? As anti-social as Epoch is, I am appalled that he hasn't revealed the slightest part of his past to you all. After all, he poured out his soul when he met Demarkos..."

No doubt the shadow creature, who had called himself Edgewalker, would have continued speaking until hell froze over if Ashbringer hadn't intervened. His shadow sword leapt from its holster with impossible speed - he swung it through the air in a horizontal slash. If the blade had hit it would have cut Edgewalker cleanly in two. However, as quickly as Ashbringer's sword had leapt from its holster, Edgewalker had spun backwards just as fast, cackling with laughter and twirling round and round as if he was a dancer, a metal cane appearing in his hand.

The Ashbringer simply stood and stared at the shadow creature, a look of what might be annoyance on his face. With a grunt, he sheathed his sword and crossed his arms.

"Oh, so quick to turn on your allies, Epoch? I do remember, quite clearly in fact, our little arrangement in the Realm of Shadows. After all, was it not I who led you to your freedom? Of course, I didn't tell you what I would gain by helping you - you merely thought I agreed to help you so that you'd spare my life. But, alas good Epoch, my weapon is the mind, and I wield it as skillfully, nay, more skillfully than you wield that sword and your magic. By helping you I gained my freedom, and ever since I've been, well, living in your shadow. I've always wondered what it was like to live in the shadow of another man. Well, I must say it was the most dreadfully dull experience. Now, why tell you this? To confuse you all, of course, to convince you that I am utterly and hopelessly insane, so that I might sow my seeds and further my diabolical plans." Edgewalker giggled, and a moment later he was standing right beside Levi, a hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Of course, that diabolical plan is seeing just how much a person can hate; namely, how much I can make you all despise me. So, tell me, young Levi, how does it feel to be immortal? I must admit that, despite Ashbringer's fetish for killing Gods, you have piqued my interest more than anyone gathered here...well, now I must go off on a tangent. Sir Magnus here is a reputable man and a general. Not your everyday position, but it's something I can wrap my mind around. Same for his seven skilled soldiers, as well as the crippled healer over there who I have yet to hear utter a single word. Now, Levi's interests might be a bit darker than all of that, as I shall soon point out, but not quite so ridiculous as Epoch here's. 'I am a blacksmith,' says one man. 'I am a soldier,' says the next. 'I am a general,' says the third. Do we gawk at any of these men, claim they follow an unrealistic path? I dare say we don't. And then some poor fellow happens across Epoch, and asks him this same question. 'Why, hello there good sir, what is your profession?' And Epoch simply stares at the man, then answers, 'I kill Gods.'" At this Edgewalker broke off into a fit of laughter, one which continued for several seconds.

"Ah, but as I said, I was but going off on a tangent. Now, General Levi, tell me, for I am quite interested - just what is that eternal darkness that looms in your soul? I have never heard of nor seen such an insidious presence in anyone, and yet there it is in you. And yet that presence is foreign, not of your own making, and as such it can safely be assumed that your soul is not as black as eternal night. Yet, I must wonder if it is not very close to such, as how else did that eternal darkness enter your soul, if you did not let it in? And yet, that isn't what interests me, not in the slightest. Rather, I am ever so intrigued as to whom is the source of the black pit of hell that resides in your soul."

Edgewalker smiled then, twirling his metal cane between his fingers. He flourished wherever there was dissonance, and, unless he was quite mistaken, a good deal of it had just been created here. Levi appeared to be outraged by what had been said, but before he could do anything he disappeared - there one second, gone the next. Edgewalker raised his hand to his mouth and gasped, then broke into a fit of giggles.

Meanwhile, the Ashbringer remained in place. He cared little about what Edgewalker was saying and what the others would think of him after this incident was resolved. However it played out, he was rather indifferent to the outcome, despite his sudden outburst just minutes before. He had met Edgewalker in the Realm of Shadow, and, after months in his company, had grown accustomed to his endless talking and odd mannerisms. During this time he had also come to suspect that Edgewalker was diabolically brilliant, and much more powerful than he let on. As such, the only thought that he truly gave consideration to was what would happen if Magnus or Raest or anyone else here decided that Edgewalker needed to be disposed of - that would leave quite the mess to clean up, despite the fact that he was currently indifferent as to who would emerge victorious in such a fight.

[-Relentless]

[OoC: And so I continue onward...alone. Attempts at continuing a quickly failing plotline - things don't work so well when two of the three central people to the plotline decide they don't want to RP anymore.]

Raest wanted to get the hell out of here.

He'd already been reluctant enough to come along on this trip. He felt belittled by Ashbringer's presence, by Magnus's, by the other soldiers'...hell, even by the new general Levi Madidus. His powers didn't lie in offense - sure, he might be able to come out on top in a fight, but his skills were almost entirely of a defensive nature. Not that his spells wouldn't be helpful for the party gathered here, but did he really want to be here if they became necessary? The group gathered here could carve their way through an army and come out on the other side (not necessarily unscathed, but there wasn't any doubt in Raest's mind that they could accomplish such a feat).

He felt useless, and he hated it. But that was the real irony, wasn't it? If the time came when he wasn't useless to everyone here...well, better to be useless than to be dead.

Yet another reason why he didn't want to be here was Ashbringer made him nervous. Who and what was this man? Magnus knew, at least so far as Raest could tell, virtually nothing of the man's intentions. How could Ashbringer be trusted? He'd heard a rumor that the man had admitted to killing Demarkos Zaleran and more or less usurped the man's title. So, how the hell could he be trusted? Then again, a large part of his distrust was due to the way the man looked - if Ashbringer had just been another human then Raest doubted he would have been half so untrusting. Can I really be so judgmental, though? Look at me...if he wasn't here it'd be me getting all the curious glances.

Raest's appearance, however, was not magnificent in any way compared to Ashbringer's. He had been a priest, once, and had forsaken his god. That had cost him his hands, crippling him and making him useless at almost every profession available. He was also covered head to foot by what appeared to be a single, seamless tattoo. Perhaps it had once been a beauty to look at, but over the decades it had faded from black to a dull gray and had smudged along the edges. He was bald; all the hair that remained on his head were his eyebrows which were as gray as his tattoos. His vibrant green eyes were the only part of his appearance that had been unmarred by the passage of years. And my sight has already started to diminish...give me another ten years and those eyes will be pale and I'll be blind.

There wasn't a single thing he liked about this whole situation. And that was before Edgewalker had arrived.


Magnus' steely eyes narrowed on the shadow creature who had called himself Edgewalker, his right hand lifting to settle upon the hilt of his sword. More unexpected surprises from Ashbringer - the man was just continuing to prove more and more deadly. Even after two weeks he knew virtually nothing about the man. Despite his attempts at conversation, Ashbringer had remained secluded in one of Fortis Montis's libraries, perusing every book he picked up. Magnus could understand this, given that Ashbringer had admited he was foreign - there was nothing wrong with learning about an unknown place. The problem was that the man was about as forthcoming as a corpse. All you could see was what was on the outside - there wasn't even a hint as to what thoughts and intentions lurked within.

As Edgewalker continued his monologue (now accusing Levi of dealings with dark sorcery or some such - troubling, but he would deal with that later if need be), Magnus turned to Ashbringer, the words "what is this thing," on his lips. Before he could speak, however, the temporary General Levi Madidus disappeared. He hadn't spoken a whole lot with the young man since his arrival, but he was still an ally. And now he was gone, because of this Edgewalker, and, by extension, because of Ashbringer.

Ashbringer could be dealt with later - Magnus would force him to explain his relationship with this Edgewalker, and perhaps some sort of understanding could be worked out. After all, as far as he could tell the man had been unaware of Edgewalker until just now, but that didn't mean he wasn't responsible. Yes, he could deal with the man later.

But Edgewalker had to be dealt with now. In just minutes the shadow wraith (what was he exactly? Magnus didn't know and he didn't really care to find out - all that mattered was whether or not his blade could harm the thing) had proven himself to be unpredictable and dangerous. And I've got a feeling we've just seen a glimpse of what he can do.

Raising his left hand slightly, he bent his fingers slightly, a signal that would be obscure to everyone but him and his seven soldiers. A signal that told the men to be ready.

Unsheathing his sword, Magnus stepped forward a single step towards Edgewalker. No point in trying to disguise his hostility. Beside and behind him, he heard seven other swords hissing out of their sheaths. Magnus would have preferred to just attack outright, with as little warning as possible, but he was obligated to do his best to find where Levi had gone - without the young man all connection to the other Zalerans would be lost.

"Where have you sent him?" Answer or die.


It appeared things were taking a turn for the worst. A fight now seemed imminent, and while Ashbringer didn't plan on participating, being unprepared would be foolish. Sighing, he rested his hand on his greatsword, closed his eyes for a second, then unsheathed the sword. As the dark blade parted way with its sheath, the rattling of chains was audible in the air.


Raest cursed inwardly. It seemed that, in just a few moments, he would no longer be useless. Damn my luck... It didn't matter how strongly he didn't want to participate in the fight, though - Magnus was his commander, and so he was obligated to help. His forearms shaking slightly, he inhaled deeply and began preparing his first spell.


Edgewalker grinned at Magnus and continued to twirl the metal cane around and around in his fingers. The manic gleam had left his eyes, replaced by a disquieting calm. The deep purple in his eyes pulsed now, slowly expanding and contracting as if at constant war with the darkness around the edges. “Dear Magnus, I suggest you and your men put your weapons away, lest these streets to be painted with your blood.”


Inarguably, the wrong thing to say.


Magnus surged forward with incredible speed, his sword raised high above his head. Before he had reached Edgewalker, however, a blinding white light encompassed his vision and he found himself unable to move. Demosthenes...


Appearing from seemingly nowhere, the self proclaimed God floated high above the street, his arms extended outwards with his palms facing the heavens. His eyes were closed and a look of serenity dominated his features. White light pulsed outwards from him, washing over everyone gathered on the block. Everyone seemed to be immobile, held in place by invisible chains of magic - chains that Demosthenes himself had summoned.

Inhaling deeply through his nose, he opened his eyes and slowly lowered himself down onto the street; there was but the faintest of sounds when he sandeled feet hit the cobblestones.

At ease, Kane. You almost played into this foul creature's trap. Levi Madidus is well and perfectly unharmed, at least for the time being - he is on the southern edge of Sealed Lands, no doubt making his way back to us even now. You may disagree with my decision, but it would be foolish to so hastily attempt to kill this Edgewalker. If he does prove to be a threat - a threat to us - then we will take the necessary measures. However, as despicable as his manner may be, he is naught but toying with you. I will not make the assumption that this thing will ever be an ally of ours, but that does not mean we have to make it our enemy, either.

He knew Magnus wouldn't be pleased with his decision, but that was of little consequence. Kane would do as he had asked, no doubt realizing that Demosthenes knew what he was doing, thinking that he had extended knowledge of this situation as he did so many others.

The truth was, for one of the few times in his life, he didn't have that knowledge. Not concerning Edgewalker, not concerning this Ashbringer. And that troubled him deeply.

Clearing his throat, Demosthenes adressed everyone in the street for the first time. "Unless any of you have any objections, let us continue onward in a peaceful manner."

The creature named Edgewalker burst into a fit of high pitched laughter. "Continue onwards? To what? Upon entering this city it was obvious to me - as I am sure it is obvious to you - that there is no one in this city. No monsters lurking behind every corner, waiting to gobble us up for dinner."

"Then leave," Magnus said, his voice cold fury. "Abandoned or not, we're exploring this city."

In the end, Edgewalker stayed, and the city was explored. It turned out that the city now known as Ultimatum was broken into nine districts. Eight of them were all the same size and shape and seperated by walls, while the ninth was a circular shape in the middle with a gigantic tower raising to the heavens in the center. The party spent most of the day exploring the city, many times breaking off into small groups to explore certain sectors. Like Edgewalker had said, however, the city was completely abandoned.

The moon was rising by the time the part returned to Fortis Montis. Few words were exchanged before everyone parted ways, however Demosthenes had requested that they all hold a palaver in two nights to sort things out and determine the future of the Empire.

[-Relentless]

[Ooc: Lost the first 3000 words of this post on the first write up, not fun. So, here's the sloppier and un-proofread version.]


"The Emperor is dead."

When Magnus had first heard the words they had felt surreal. The emperor to whom he had owed fealty, the emperor whom he had never before met, was dead. Killed, just miles outside the border of Sealed Lands, by assassins. He had first heard the news from a ragtag crew who had apparently come from the group of several thousand people that the emperor had been leading across Iridia. A simple journey, from Pacalon to Sealed Lands, no more than a few weeks march at most.

In the past two days more and more people had come trickling into Fortis Montis - now there were over a thousand more men residing within the walls with apparently several thousand more on the way. Magnus knew that all of them wouldn't come - with the emperor's death some had no doubt chosen to wander off on their own or with a group of friends, scavenging or pillaging across the countryside in an effort to survive.

Feeding ten thousand more mouths wasn't a problem though - the dilemma lay on who would now take control. Magnus knew very well the answer - he would, perhaps for the sole reason that there was no one else. Oh, there might be a leader or two among those who had come from Pacalon, but they wouldn't have enough support for any sort of claim that they might make. Whereas, here, he had the support of sixty thousand. Not that he necessarily wanted the position of emperor, but he knew his people would demand he take it. It was a position of necessity.

No use thinking about it now, though, for he would be discussing the topic quite thoroughly in just a few minutes at the meeting that Demosthenes had set up. It was to take place in the Fortis Montis library. Magnus wasn't sure why Demosthenes had chosen to hold the meeting there rather than the building where he had greeted the late General Bolster and his assistant, Levi Madidus. Perhaps the God just didn't want the distraction of food, but Magnus had a feeling that he'd need at least a few bottles of wine to get through the night.

Shaking his head, Magnus rocked slightly backwards in the chair he was sitting in. He was already in the library and had been for the past hour. He had ordered the place to be closed off for the day, mainly for this meeting, but for the past hour he had been sitting in the library alone, with just his thoughts for company. He had tried to read a book but had found himself too anxious to concentrate. It was unlike him, really - in the field of battle he was never this nervous. He was a warrior, not a politician...at least not yet.

He was about to stand up to start pacing around the library when the door swung open, revealing Ashbringer. Like Magnus, the man was garbed in full battle attire. I wonder if he ever takes that armor off...does the man even sleep? Others might take Ashbringer's armor and the fact that he was still wearing his monstrous sword as a sign of hostility, but it was something Magnus understood - hell, something he could relate to. Whenever he wasn't wearing his gray plate armor he felt too damn vulnerable. The sword, though, unnerved him slightly. There was always that dull, insidious humming coming from the blade and then, at random times, the inexplicable rattle of chains.

Upon entering the library, Ashbringer glanced around the room then finally rested his gaze upon Magnus. Immediately he strode across the room, and just before he reached the table Magnus stood to greet him, extending his hand. For a second he thought the man wasn't going to shake, but he was pleasantly surprised. As they shook hands, Magnus locked eyes with the man, attempting to discern any sort of emotion, any hint at what the man was thinking, but there was nothing. The man's face was startlingly blank.

"Glad to see at least the two of us could make it...no clue where Demosthenes is, a bit odd since he was the one who arranged this little gathering," Magnus said as he sat back down at the table. Ashbringer followed suit, sitting down in the chair directly opposite of him.

"Indeed."

Magnus waited for the man to say more, but no more words came. A minute of awkward silence passed between them before the silence was interrupted. There was a small poping sound in the air and a moment later Demosthenes appeared in the seat to Magnus's left. He raised an eyebrow at the God and received a wink in return.

"Not late, Kane. I arranged this little palaver for precisely ten o'clock and I arrived not a second too late. If you were impatient, I must say the fault is yours for being so early. Surely you had other things to do?" Demosthenes asked him, his voice full of mirth.

"If I did have responsibilities then I didn't attend to them. Despite the fact that I'm the leader of Fortis Montis, I've had very little to do in the past few days. Odd, considering the stream of people that have been flowing in. Thought my hands would be full, but our soldiers are taking those who arrive into their homes as soon as they arrive. Hell, I hear they're practically fighting over the new arrivals at the gate."

Demosthenes nodded, a faint smile on his face. "Indeed." The God then shifted his gaze to Ashbringer and his smile widened. "I am humbled that you could make it. However, I do notice two of our number are missing - tell me, where is Edgewalker?"

Ashbringer shrugged. "I haven’t seen him since yesterday, although I wouldn't put it past him to be among us right now, posing as a spider or a bug or something."

Despite his next words, Demosthenes didn't seem too concerned by this. "Ah, that's quite an unpleasant though. I'll be sure to keep an eye out and squash any little critters I see. Unfortunate indeed that this library is so full of insects, for if he is indeed here I doubt we shall ever find him. I was thinking about getting an alchemist to concoct a mixture that would kill all of the bugs that have taken up residence here...a pity I never went through with it." Smiling, Demosthenes turned back to Magnus. "Well, that's one accounted for. Now, Kane, where is the young Levi Madidus? You did remember to invite him, did you not?"

Magnus grunted. "My memory has been a bit selective of late. General or not, the man's a fool. Plus, I don't quite know if I trust him yet."

"And you trust our friend Ashbringer here?" Demosthenes queried. Magnus glared in reply. "Well, now, let us get down to business. The three of us are here this night, to discuss the future of an empire. Here we sit, next to a roaring fire, three men about to partake in decisions that well affect millions of lives. Decisions that may affect the entire world! As such, I have brought drinks for the occasion." And, reaching into the pockets of his robes, Demosthenes pulled out three bottles of wine and three glasses.

It was hard to restrain a smile. In the year that he had known Demosthenes he had never seen the God act like this. Never seen him so...light hearted and friendly. It was odd but at the same time relaxing.

"Now, to start off, I think we should break the ice between the three of us. Or rather, break the ice that hangs between the two of us and you, sir Ashbringer. Considering the momentous decisions we are about to discuss, I think it necessary that we all start by getting to know each other. As such, Kane will enlighten you concerning his past and I will enlighten you concerning mine, with hope that you will do the same."

Ashbringer nodded. "Very well, but I don't need to hear your story. I've gathered enough of it in the weeks I've spent here and have no desire to learn the rest. I shall tell you my story out of necessity - dwelling on the past is something I do not do. Now, Magnus, if you would fill up our glasses for us, I would begin.

"I come from one of many tribes of a mountain dwelling race. We called ourselves the Sinaad. From what I have seen on this continent, the race that bears the most resemblance to us are elves, if only for our height and ears. All Sinaad have grayish green skin, a thing that I lack for reasons that I will soon explain. All of their eyes are like mine, though - not in color, but we do not have pupils or irises like humans. Most Sinaad are warrior mages, meaning that they are skilled with a blade and use magic in tandem. Wielders of dark magic, such as I, however, are almost unheard of among the Sinaad. There is a long tale behind that, but I will shorten it significantly - a man attempted to unite the Sinaad tribes, one who practiced dark magic. At the time dark magic was very rare among the Sinaad but not yet taboo. Anyway, he succeeded in uniting the tribes and brought war to the southern empires. However, during the first engagement with the southern empires, cataclysm struck. Creatures of shadow attacked and killed almost everyone.

"The man who united the tribes, Icarius, survived by fleeing along with several hundred others. He was brought back to our mountain dwelling in chains, though. A trial was held and was crucified, after which his body was turned to stone, forever to stand vigil over what is known as the Well of Shadows, from which it was ascertained that he drew his power. That was before I was born, however, Now, we go forward one hundred years later. I was attempting to do exactly the same thing Icarius did, and I was a practitioner of dark magic as well - because of Icarius's frequent use of dark magic, that type of magery was now taboo among the Sinaad. In short, I forged my own sword - the blade I now wield - using the Well of Shadows. To start, forging my own sword was illegal, and interaction with the Well of Shadows was a death penalty. The reason I forged that sword was to fulfill prophecy - a prophecy who's exact words have departed from my memory. The prophecy largely foretold the unification of the Sinaad clans, though. Anyway, I was cautious, however, and my actions went unnoticed.

"At this time I had significantly strengthened tribe relations, and a grand meeting was to take place, an attempt to assimilate the tribes. However, the night of the meeting, disaster struck. Gigantic hounds of darkness attacked the village. I drove them back and killed them, but in so doing had to reveal my dark magic and the sword I had forged. Obviously, I was accused of being responsible, and probably rightly so. Hundreds died when the hounds attacked. Rather than kill me, though, the tribal elders sentenced me to what they believed was damnation. They wrapped me and my sword in magical chains and threw me into the Well of Shadow."

At this point, Ashbringer paused, reaching forward to grasp the glass a filled wine. Magnus glanced over at Demosthenes as the man took a sip, wondering what he was thinking. The God's eyes were twinkling but betrayed nothing of what he thought. Other than the fact that he seems satisfied...and I suppose I am too. About time we got some answers.

After he had drank a quarter of his glass, Ashbringer continued. "When I fell through the Well of Shadows, I arrived in another realm. However, here I was unchained - the bonds that the elders had wrapped around me were gone. There was a well by me, likely that realm’s version of the Well of Shadows. The well was filled with ashes, however, and even when I climbed into it I did not appear back in my world. And so I began to wander in what I soon named the Realm of Shadows. Days, years, centuries, it all became muddled together. I fought and killed horrific creatures as I made my way across the land, seeking a way out. I was relentless in my quest. I was there so long that I didn't even know why I wanted out. I began to become like the other creatures in the Realm of Shadow - like I am now.

"There were times, periods of several hundred years, where I would stay in a single place. Often times I would fashion myself a throne from the obsidian rock that was so common there - I was the king of the wasteland, the king of nothing. The king of a godless realm where almost every creature I met tried to kill me. I met others in my quest for an exit, but none of them provided hospitable company. All of them seemed to be lost and driven to madness. In the end, I released all of those that I met from their madness. And then, one day, after killing a particularly fearsome shadow creature, I met Edgewalker. He healed my wounds and told me that he could lead me to an exit, that he knew a way out of the place I had been trapped in for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years. All he wanted in exchange was my company, he said. His motives seemed suspect at the time, but I could do nothing but follow him - I wanted out of that land of damnation.
"We were companions for almost a year before we finally reached the exit. When I left the Realm of Shadows I thought I would never see him again, but now I can guess his motives for accompanying me. For whatever reason, Edgewalker was trapped in that realm, and needed someone to help him get out - all it required, apparently, was a shadow for him to slip in to. Or so I’ve come to believe.

“Now, when I appeared in the other realm – this realm – I was in a room several miles underground. It was cold and the walls were made of thick stone – I was later told that the place is called Necronus. I wandered the halls of the underground city for two days before I found an exit. When I did, however, realization struck me. I’d spent so long trying to escape the Realm of Shadow and now I didn’t have the slightest clue of where to go. Wherever I was, it was nowhere near my homeland – I later learned that it wasn’t even on my continent, that the place where I am from is unheard of. So, I chose a direction and wandered. After a week I came upon some mountains, and in those mountains I found a man. He was malnourished and insane. Using my dark magic I was able to manipulate his mind into a temporary form of sanity. Long enough for him to tell me about where I was. Quite similar to right now, that man told me his story. He told me his name was Demarkos of Zaleran, and that he hailed from a shattered empire.”

Ashbringer paused at that, reaching forward once again for another drink of his wine. Magnus found himself leaning forward now – this was the part he had been waiting for. He hadn’t been able to put it out of his mind that Ashbringer had killed Demarkos – perhaps now the man could justify what he had done.

“The words that passed between us are private, but by the end of our conversation Demarkos was in tears and begging for release. He had told me much about the world I had arrived in – as much as one can tell in a few short hours. Before I killed him, I promised him that I would take up his title to redeem his name, seek out the Zalerans he had sent to Sealed Lands, and kill the Aesir God. And so, a tale spanning for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years, told in less than an hour. I hope you learned all you wished to, for I will not repeat the story of my past again.”

Under the table, Magnus’s fists were clenched. He hadn’t learned anything about the conversation with Demarkos that Ashbringer hadn’t already told him on the night they had met. Damn your private words, that man was a general and a hero. He glanced over at Demosthenes’, to gauge the Gods’ reaction to this tale. Surprisingly, he found the man frowning, his eyebrows raised in apparent sadness.

“Three questions, if you would allow, sir Ashbringer,” Demosthenes said. “First, in Ultimatum Edgewalker mentioned you were a god slayer – what did he mean by that? Secondly, what is your real name? I apologize, but I find it awkward to constantly refer to you as Ashbringer. And finally, may we call you by that name?”

Ashbringer smiled faintly. “You needn’t worry about waking up one day to find my sword lodged in-between your ribs, Demosthenes. As a Sinaad I was a slayer of gods – the tribes and cultures in the frozen wastes to the north of us would often summon otherworldly beings and chain them as their gods so as to draw power from them. Every time they proclaimed a new god – false or real – I or others went north and killed it. In the Realm of Shadows I also slew several of what could be referred to as gods. My birth name is Epoch Ruin, and yes, you may call me by it if you wish.”

“Excellent! Now, let us proceed to the real reason why this gathering was called. To start with, due to the unfortunate death of our late emperor, we must pick a new leader for this empire. I believe that the choice is obvious – even more so for us, as the man is sitting right in front of our eyes. Would you deny the title of emperor, Kane?”

Magnus frowned, raising his right arm up so he could scratch at his chin. “A second, Demosthenes. I realize you may have planned out much of what we are to discuss, but I’d like to have a turn at leading this conversation. Yes, I will accept the title of emperor when the people decide to officially give it to me and lead this damn empire to glory or ruin. However, my rule as emperor is conditional. Once the Aesir are defeated, the empire goes as well. It’s only fitting that the Aesir be defeated by the Zaleran Empire, but after that I want us gone, replaced by a kingdom or something of the sort. A government which promotes peace and rules over its own people and stays out of other peoples’ business. “

Demosthenes laughed. “I believe those noble intentions are behind the creation of any government, but as I’m sure you know they so rarely last. This, however, is something that can be determined once the Aesir are defeated – a task that will take some time, likely several years. For now I think it logical that we attend to more pressing matters, such as how we plan to actually combat the Aesir. Even if every single man and woman we had, including those coming in from Pacalon, were to take up arms, we’d have an army of just over seventy thousand. A force to be reckoned with to be sure, but as of now this empire has no real citizens or workers. Whether or not we have the number of people required to mount an opposition to the Aesir is irrelevant – right now we don’t have the resources.

“To begin with, we need to attract citizens to the Sealed Lands. We have a gigantic city that is completely empty just waiting to be inhabited. What we need to do is spread the word across southern Iridia, mainly focusing on the smaller villages. Tell them we offer free housing and paid, reliable work. Blacksmiths, ship builders, farmers, merchants…we need everything.”

Leaning back in his chair, Magnus raised his eyebrows. “And I suppose all that money we’ll be paying them with will be coming from my pockets.”

Demosthenes nodded in reply. “Indeed, but your losses will be minimal and in time you will make more profit, which we can use to hire actual guilds to craft whatever we need. Where we need to begin is obvious – setting up numerous farms all across the lands to the south of Fortis Montis and Ultimatum, meanwhile crafting docks to allow us communication and trade with the outside world. Also, Magnus, I suggest you speak with your Zaleran engineers. Ultimatum has almost as many towers as it does regular buildings and as such would be ideal for airships. The engineers can start small at first – just airships meant to take people around the city – and then work their way up to larger, military grade ones. Airships will be an invaluable resource when it comes to fighting the Aesir.”

Magnus was about to reply, saying that he had already though of the exact same thing, when Ashbringer stood up. “Am I needed here? It seems you two are discussing things that you’ve already decided upon doing. How you manage your empire is of little concern to me.”

Demosthenes cleared his throat, then gestured to the chair which Ashbringer had been sitting in. “Please, sit with us, Epoch. Perhaps our conversation seems trivial and I do not deny that much of what we are saying is already in action, but your presence here is necessary. If you wish, we can skip the formalities and move right on to how we are going to combat the Aesir.”

The Ashbringer remained standing for a second longer, then took his seat once again. “You want to know what I plan to do? I am going to wait, likely until you decide it is time to strike. I will then accompany you to Ascantha or Charlmagne’s Sky, where I will confront and kill the Aesir God.”

Silence hung heavy in the air for a few moments before Demosthenes decided to speak. “Not exactly the answer we were hoping for, but it will have to do. I am sorry that this palaver of mine was not of more use to you – should you wish it, you may now depart.”

Ashbringer nodded, then stood up once again and made for the doorway. Magnus glanced over at Demosthenes, expecting the god to call out, but no such thing happened. A moment later the library door opened and then closed again.

Magnus grunted a laugh. “Not exactly how you wanted things to turn out, I reckon.”

Demosthenes didn’t. For several seconds Magnus sat, waiting to hear whatever witty reply the God might conjure up, but none came. As the silence stretched on Magnus began to regret his words – this definitely wasn’t how Demosthenes had wanted things to turn out. And yet, how had he been so blind? Why had he presumed that Ashbringer would care about how they managed the Empire? As he had said, he was with them to kill the Aesir God. This was the first time he had ever seen the God make a miscalculation, and that sent a shiver up his spine.

He could see pain in the God’s visage, something that startled him immensely. He had never seen his friend so unnerved, so moved by an action that, in Magnus’s opinion, held little significance. So what if Ashbringer didn’t care what they were doing? Then again, there had to be something deeper, perhaps even symbolic about the situation. If he walks out on us now, perhaps it means he will again? But no, that wouldn’t make Demosthenes betray such human qualities. So, why is he so stricken by this little event? I have to look at it from his view…he’s an immortal who has lived on this world for thousands of years and has just found another person who has lived maybe as long, maybe longer than he has. So what, did you expect that because you’ve both witnessed events beyond measure that you’d bear any similarities, share any connection with each other? That’s foolish, Demosthenes, even for a human…

It was a notion, however, that he could understand. The desire for companionship, for friendship. Sure, it was something that Magnus offered, but not in the way that Demosthenes probably desired. There were likely harrowing events in the God’s past that Magnus wouldn’t be able to comprehend. And so the God had thought that, because Ashbringer had likely undergone several harrowing events in his own life, that a sort of bond would be forged.

There was suddenly the crackle of magic in the air, and a moment later Demosthenes was gone. Magnus sat, disbelieving, his gaze fixed on the chair where his friend had been sitting. There was something more going on here, there had to be – whatever had afflicted Demosthenes couldn’t have just been because of Ashbringer’s departure, as much as Magnus would like to convince himself that it was. And why do I want that? Why do I want him to have a pathetic reason for feeling pain?

The answer was obvious: because if the pain on Demosthenes’ face had been brought on by a multitude of things, if his pain had been rational, then there was something terrible on the horizon.

Sighing, Magnus stood up then left the library. For the past few days he had been feeling increasingly useless, but now that time had passed. There was a mountain load of work to do to get everything needed to run this Empire underway, work he’d have to begin on the morrow.


Demosthenes sat alone in his small hut atop the mountain in which Fortis Montis had been carved. It took all of his willpower not to scream. It had nothing to do with what had happened at that palaver – what had happened there had been disappointing, true, but of little consequence. Instead, starting near the end of Ashbringer’s tale, his head had begun to throb, the pain increasing by the second. For awhile he had been able to block out the pain, but eventually it had grown to great – bright lights had begun to flash in front of his eyes and his throbbing head had been filled with the sounds of horrific screams. Not wanting to let Magnus see his pain, he had teleported away, back up here. After a minute or so the pain had begun to recede, but it still felt as if he was undergoing mental torture.

What had caused this? He didn’t know, but he needed to find out.


Once he had left the confines of the library, Epoch Ruin had set out into the night with no particular destination in mind. When he finally stopped walking, however, he found himself standing by the rail on the ninth tier of the city, his gaze fixed on the vast plains that stretched outwards from the mountain city. His brow was furrowed, his hands clasping the rail tightly, suggesting deep thought.

After nearly an hour of standing in silence, he heard movement behind him. A moment later the short, shadowy figure of Edgewalker appeared in his peripherals. A smile was on the man’s face and he was twirling his metal cane in his hands like usual.

“The little palaver didn’t go as expected, I take it? My my, what a surprise,” Edgewalker said, his voice brimming with sarcasm.

Epoch grunted, shifting his gaze away from the horizon for the first time in an hour to settle upon Edgewalker. “I am leaving this place and do not plan on returning until my assistance is required.”

“How depressing – I am sure the lively residents of this Empire will so miss your wondrous company. So, where shall your – or rather our – journey take us?”

He was silent for several minutes before replying. “First, I shall return to Dark World.”

“And then?”

“And then to Charlmagne’s Sky, to meet the Aesir God.”

[-Atonement]

The sealed lands still brimmed with an untold amount of magic, it saturated the air permeating every breath Levi took. That son of a bitch. The mage cussed under his breath, that man, no that the, The Edgewalker, needed to go. His emerald eyes now glowed slightly, raw untapped magic from "that thing" had filtered through him, changed him, and made him leagues stronger than he had even been in his entirety. It wasn't what Darken had promised no, but it was power. He stood now, fully aware of his surroundings, feeling his muscles contort slightly as he raised himself from a hulk of rubble he had been resting on. The air was dark, night had come, but a small orb of energy maintained itself hovering over him illuminating his surroundings.

After his run in with the Edgewalker. Levi had used the power granted by his ring to return, however though he reached the city he had not reached his intended destination. He had found himself in some sort of citadel. It was as if it were a church however, unlike your standard worshiping affair it had been built like an amphitheater. Pews stretched out in a circular pattern all facing inwards while an enormous chandelier, hung from the ceiling, and in the middle of it all, this altar, this thing glowed a dim blue. He had no idea what it had been but it had made him what he was now. He felt raw magic flow through his body, pulsating as he starred at the thing. It was as if knowledge had been directly written into his brain, and his control over the arts seemed to almost double.

No matter. It had it's price he was sure. He could no longer feel some of his power, not that it mattered, he had gained more. No, it mattered not now, there was work to be done. A heavy set of boots signaled his approach to the center of the room, and a pair of gloved hands placed themselves on what would later be known as "The Heart". Within an instant an untold amount of information passed into Levi, and he knew where he had to go.

"Fortis Montis.", He said calmly, turning toward the direction of the city, he could feel it now, thanks to this thing, though as he turned its power seemed to dim once again. Perhaps he had taken too much form it? No matter then, he had gained something invaluable. He breathed, knowing he would end this in a single attack. Levi drew his sword, the blade perfectly balanced, crafted by the finest Zaleran swordsmith's Magnus had to offer. It seemed however to begin to shine, and Levi knew that the training he had undergone in his short time with Magnus had not gone to waste, a yellow aura began to permeate his body and he was ready.

The night sky crashed out behind the two beings, the moonlight of Fortis Montis literally showing the air itself splintering and being rend apart by the sudden intrusion. It was as if someone had shattered a mirror, sending pieces outwardly and violently, though they immediately dispersed into nothingness, Levi Madidus, had returned to Fortis Montis. He brandished his blade toward the back of The Edgewalker, had he turned it truly would have been a sight to see. The mage's eyes were in full glow, shining a brilliant green that pierced the night, his body maintained a steady yellowish aura that seemed to wisp off of him like flames, and the blade itself seemed to have its own glow, that though faint, indicated something being out of the ordinary.

"Edgewalker.", he began, talked lightly, "It is time."

---

Sorry for the shitty post, I'm rusty. Just for an FYI two delayed spells have already been cast as I'm sure you can be tell, they can be activated at any time.

[-Relentless]

Turning away from the railing, Edgewalker regarded Levi with an expression of mock surprise. "Oh my, where are your manners? Hasn't anyone ever told that it's rude to point," he cackled, nodding towards Levi's outstretched sword. He then lifted his steel cane into the air, holding it exactly like the man across from him. Making a few mock jabs, the shadow creature began speaking in its most dramatic voice. "Unless, of course, you wish to duel me? My cane against your sword? I would so hate to embarrass you in front of good Epoch here." Edgewalker looked as if he was going to say more, but before he could make another move Epoch's hand snapped out, closing around the arm in which Edgewalker was holding the cane. His left hand gripped tightly around the shadow man's forearm, Epoch then turned to regard Levi.

When the Ashbringer spoke he did so calmly, his voice evincing no signs of anger or annoyance. “Put that sword away; even threatening to unleash magic in this city is foolish, particularly so when your foe is possesses even deadlier powers than you. Whatever feud you have with Edgewalker can wait until we return from Dark World."

Edgewalker glared at Ashbringer, his inverted, purple-in-black eyes chaotic maelstroms of fury. "Actually, I believe I've changed my mind. I have no desire to accompany one who so lacks proper manners. I won't be hanging around here, though - as tempting as the thought of tormenting an idiot mage like the general here is, I have more pressing matters to attend to." Sticking out his shadowy tongue, Edgwealker giggled and, a moment later disappeared. Laughter erupted from the shadows surrouning Epoch and Levi, and then faded off into the night.

Ashbringer didn't seem to be the least bit perplexed by this. His right hand settling on the hilt of his greatsword, the crackle of dark magic was suddenly audible. Almost invisible in the darkness, a black portal rimmed by dark blue appeared, slowly pulsing as if it were a living thing.

"I suggest you return to your quarters. From what I understand, there is a lot of work that needs to be done if your Empire wishes to stand against the Aesir."