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battlemaster25 -> RE: =AQ= It's a Wonderful Life of Crime War Stories and Poems 2014 (12/21/2014 12:32:50)
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A Very Vampiric Holiday
Chapter I: While Frostvale Burns
Scene: In the illusory replica of Frostvale, mid-afternoon. A figure draped in a heavy red fur cloak is staring off into the distance.
The town of Frostvale was a disaster area. Buildings burned, and the sounds of screaming could be heard. The snow was stained black and red, from soot and... other substances. The remnants of wooden cottages littered the ground. Off in the distance, one could see the flashes of magic as Zorbak's rampage continued. The cloaked figure was leaning up against a tree, seemingly unperturbed by his morbid surroundings. His face, though shrouded in darkness, appeared to be rather pale. He was probably quite handsome, once, but now his face was marred by three enormous scars, like giant claw marks. Most strikingly of all, however, were his eyes, which shined red. A vampire, clearly, which would explain his aversion to the sun. After a moment, another figure materialized next to him: none other than Sage Uldor.
"Gale, might I ask what you're doing?"
"I'm enjoying the show. You've really outdone yourself this time, Uldor."
"My illusions are not for your entertainment."
"Oh relax, it's not like Zorbak needs my help."
As if on cue, the distinctive sound of a hunting horn rang out, accompanied by a strange jingling noise. Within moments, the sounds of thousands of footsteps thundered on the horizon, and an enormous army marched into view. Their festive coloration made the army's allegiance quite clear: they were the defenders of Frostvale, and they were none too thrilled with Zorbak's mayhem. The vampire, Gale, sighed loudly in exasperation and turned to face Uldor, looking quite irritated.
"Is that really necessary? I'm pretty sure Zorbak has gotten the point already. My job here is done."
"Until Zorbak is finished blowing off steam, you're not done. So how about you stop being lazy?"
"Uldor, this about that blood incident, isn't it? I said I was sorry...."
"Tell that to the holes in my neck."
"Ugh, fine, I'll fight your army. But at least make it so that the illusory sun won't fry me."
"You've got a deal."
Uldor snapped his fingers, and the skies quickly clouded over. Hesitantly, Gale lowered his hood, and felt that he wasn't burning. His long black hair whipped about in the breeze. With a resigned expression, he held up his hand and a large battleaxe materialized. It was red and green, and seemed to be made of hardened candy cane. From inside his cloak, he produced a flask full of blood, took a hearty swig, and then charged off towards the approaching army. Uldor looked on, seeming rather pleased with himself.
End Chapter
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Chapter II: Festive Carnage
Scene: Outside the illusory Frostvale, late afternoon. Gale has been slaughtering his way through the army.
Gale was locked in combat with a variety of illusion creatures, including eggnog-themed Frogzards and strange tendril-sprouting peppermints. He was rather bemused with Uldor's strange taste in monsters. Lying all around him were the bodies of other, similar creatures. A moglin leaped off the back of its green, furry mount and hurled itself at Gale, trying to bludgeon him with an enormous lollipop. In one swift move, Gale hefted his battleaxe overhead and slammed it down on the moglin, smashing it into the ground. Then, he hoisted the moglin up next to his face, and sunk his fangs into its neck. He drained a healthy mouthful of blood, and then tossed the moglin to the ground.
After a moment, however, Gale realized exactly what he was doing. He looked down at himself, and saw that he was covered in blood. He glanced about, suddenly seeming rather nervous, and saw the carnage that he had created. It was like he had simply lost control, and gone into a frenzy. He dropped his battleaxe and sat down in the snow, apparently overwhelmed by the sight. As if on cue, Uldor manifested next to him and spoke, sounding rather worried.
"Is something the matter, Gale?"
"Look at all these creatures I killed. What did they ever do wrong?"
"Gale. Get ahold of yourself. You haven't killed anything."
"You must really be blind."
"I am, but that's besides the point. None of this is real, remember? You're still in my illusion."
"I'm a vampire. I know real blood when I taste it."
"No, you don't. This is all in your head. Or, rather, mine. Now, get back on your feet and finish this army."
"If you say so. Not my ideal Frostval, though, that's for sure."
Uldor vanished without replying. Gale sighed in annoyance, and grabbed his battleaxe again. A moment later, there was a flash of light, and a young woman appeared nearby. Gale looked up at her, confused. The woman was short, and fairly athletic-looking. Her skin was almost as pale as Gale's, which was surprising, since she wasn't a vampire. Her hair was short and bright green. She was wearing heavy plate mail armor, covered in a fluffy white winter coat. She looked around, as if she had been expecting to find enemies. Seeing that they were all dead, she glanced down at Gale, and noticed the blood. She quickly spoke up, sounding concerned.
"Hey, are you okay?"
"Uh.... I'm fine. Not my blood, you see."
"Gotcha. Must be from these illusions, then?"
"Indeed. Wait, how did you know they're illusions?"
"We are in Uldor's illusion, right? Trying to sort out the problems with Zorbak?"
"How did you find out about all that?"
"Oh come on, you think you're the only one here? Uldor's brought a bunch of adventurers here."
"So you're an adventurer, then?"
"Yep. My name is Gillian. Gillian Caerellus. And you?"
"Gale Silverwing."
"Well, a very happy Frostval to you, Gale. Now, let's get back to warring!"
As soon as she finished speaking, a rather eager look crossed Gillian's face, and she pulled a sword from inside her coat. She saw the rest of the army not far from them, and charged off. Gale stared after her for a moment, noting that she seemed entirely too happy for someone in a warzone. No wonder Uldor had picked her to help Zorbak become ebil again. Gillian stopped and turned around, seeing Gale stationary behind her.
"Come on, slowpoke! This is the most fun Frostval ever, don't waste it by standing around!"
Gale rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath.
Gee, thanks, Uldor. Stick me with my complete opposite...."
End Chapter
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Chapter III: Goals
Scene: Illusory Battlefield, evening. Gillian and Gale are battling side-by-side, talking as they do.
Gale had come to the conclusion that Gillian was not a combatant to be trifled with. She whirled about the battlefield with frightening speed, dispatching hundreds of Frostvale forces with her wide, sweeping slashes. Somehow, likely due to magic, her coat was still a pristine white, unstained by illusory blood. As she battled, she was constantly grinning like a giddy child, as if she was having the time of her life. However, her precise, deadly-efficient movements did not quite match up to her ditzy, energetic attitude. Gale wondered briefly if she might have been hiding something. She asked a question, sounding casually curious.
"So Gale, why did you decide to come here?"
This question broke Gale out of his musings, and he pondered it for a moment. What were his motivations, exactly?
"Well, to protect the world, of course."
"I meant besides that. You must have some reason."
"Weird as it is, helping Zorbak is a heroic act. I wanted to do it."
"So you want to be a hero? Is that it?"
These were surprisingly deep questions, coming from someone who considered warring to be an amusing pastime. Gale wondered whether she was trying to make some kind of point.
"See, the thing is, I have a brother. Storm, just a few years younger than me."
"What does that have to do with it?"
"Storm thought I died years ago. He didn't know that I was a vampire. When we reunited, I could tell that he was unsure. He still loved me, but he wasn't sure if I was the same. He used to look up to me as a brave hero. I just wanted to prove myself, that's all."
"That's quite a story. I'd love to meet your brother some day."
"Haha, I think he'd like you. By the way, since we're asking, what's your motivation?"
Gillian stopped moving for a moment and shuddered. Her face was turned away from Gale, so he couldn't see when she dropped her smile for a moment. She quickly regained her energetic attitude and answered the question.
"Because I like fighting! These illusions are guilt-free."
Gale, however, had noticed her brief shift in attitude. He figured that her reply was probably true, to some degree, but it wasn't the whole story. Now he knew Gillian was hiding something. Cautiously, he decided to press her on it.
"There's something you're not telling me. Why come to me?"
"Uldor mentioned a vampire. No offense, but your kind are usually known for being vicious."
"And why, exactly, do you need someone vicious?"
Gillian stopped fighting the army altogether now. She turned to face Gale, her sword hanging limply at her side. Her cheerful facade was gone entirely now, and she sighed loudly. The two of them stood there in silence for a moment, before Gillian spoke again.
"I need your help."
"With what?"
"I want Zorbak to die."
Gale was dumbfounded. He was stunned into silence for almost a whole minute.
".....WHAT!?"
"You heard me. I'm going to kill Zorbak."
"Why!? The whole reason we're here is to help him! Without him, Lore would be doomed!"
"That isn't true at all. We're prepared for the Leprechauns. Nightbane and Drakonnan are dead. Kabroz has lost his necromancy. Zorbak is no longer needed."
"Okay, no. I'm not going to help you with your crazy scheme. And here I thought you were crazy before!"
"I was afraid you were going to say that."
Before Gale even had time to react, Gillian dashed over to him and bashed the pommel of her sword into the side of his head. Gale crumpled to the ground, unconscious, as Gillian turned away to leave.
End Chapter
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