Riprose123
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Later on, as I sat experimenting with runes to try and create new things, there were many loud knocks on my door. Looking out the window, I found myself peering at a very angry looking Veranex in nightgown that left her arms and shoulder blades exposed. I drew my sword out of the scabbard in the corner and proceeded to open the door. Veranex pushed past me, glanced at Shadows, who was asleep as his doggy mangy self in front of the fire, and then back at me with my sword drawn. “Expecting a fight, Rip?” She asked, giving me an irritated look.
“If you keep your fire to yourself, maybe not,” I said, shutting the door and lowering my sword. “Don’t give me a reason and I won’t run you through.”
She made a little tsk tsk sound, then spoke, “Attacking girls going to be a regular thing with you?”
I turned away from her, frowning at her words. The girl must have been awake and talking. Hopefully she didn’t hate me. Or was crazy. Or both. One loathsome psychotic female was enough, I didn’t need two. “She’s awake,” Veranex said, seemingly reading my mind, “And all she remembers is your mangy friend over there.”
I glanced at Shadows, then said, “He’s not mangy, he’s sheddy, big difference. And if you could kindly leave my house, I’ll return to my business.”
She snorted at this, “Casting girls out of your house, tells me so much about you, Rehorn. I’ll take my leave now,” She turned to leave, and I watched her the entire way. I noticed some curly green designs, partially hidden by her gown, located on her shoulders. The door shut behind her, and I went back to my notebook.
A few seconds later, there was a grunt from the general vicinity of Shadows, and his voice saying, “Not bad to look at, that one. She’s a bit crazy though.”
“You haven’t seen her mad, my friend. There’s a fire in that one, and when it roars, it roars,” I said, shutting the notebook, removing my glasses, and crawling into bed for a fitful night’s sleep.
Some of the funnest times in the early days of the clan was when we all went into town together. I usually stuck around Shadows and Odd, and they usually spent their time in the market, finding things to eat.
One trip was truly memorable though. The three of us, along with Sainsbo and Veranex, were walking through the market, when there was a loud roar from the sky above. Everyone stopped to look, and we spotted a massive dracolich, carrying on its back a fortress. The dracolich roared again, and a guardian yelled from the wall, “Everyone get to home! Lock your doors! Sepulchure’s flying dracolich approaches! Heroes, to the wall!”
The five of us responded almost immediately. Shadows dashed off ahead of us, losing his shirt and pants in the process and transforming into his lupin self. Odd’s arms crackled with electricity as he drew his new katana. It was a magnificent weapon, forged of pure obsidian. I had spent a silent afternoon with a full belly scratching different runes of power onto the blade. Endurance runes, eversharp, you name it, I mostly likely added it. Hell, it even glows in the dark now.
Sains’ was right next to Odd as he took off to join the fight. His hammer was clasped in both his hands, the sun reflecting off of its silver head. His grey iron armor caught the sunlight, making him seem to shimmer and shine as he ran next to his fellow phoenix, encountering the first waves of undead.
I was wearing simple traveler’s clothes that day, not very protective, but not very encumbersome either. Normally, I’d have worn simple robes, with a chain shirt covering my torso, leather bracers on my wrists, and studded leather greaves to protect my shins. The only weapon I had that day was my staff, littered with the different runes I had carved into its surface. I looked around the market, desperately looking for another sort of weapon or better armor. Something hit me in the back of the head, and when I turned around, another article of leather armor was flying at me. “Not what you’re used to, but they’ll protect your wrists enough,” Veranex said, picking up and inspecting a chainmail shirt before slipping it on over the dress she wore that day, “damn, I should have brought my staff. I guess I’ll have to rely on magic. Here, you can have this one,” she said, tossing me another chain shirt, “It’s a little rusted, but it should keep you alive until we get the mithril one you prefer.”
I drew the piece of chalk I kept in the pocket of every article of clothing I owned, and drew a few runes into the pieces of armor I had been given. As I finished etching the last endurance rune onto the mail shirt, I nodded to Vera, and together we set a determined pace to the battlefield. We reached the walls without incident, stopping to consult with the guardians on what the current situation was. We asked how we could reach the battlefield if the gates were shut to prevent any breakthroughs and the reply was simply, “Jump off the top.”
As we went to climb the ladder to the top of the wall, a panicked looking hero pushed past us. His longsword was slung over his back, and I absently reached over and drew it as he ran past. I handed it to Vera, “Hopefully someone taught you how to use this. Now climb quickly before he looks behind him,” this earned me a mischievous grin from her as she turned to climb the ladder. I followed right behind her, keeping my eyes pointed at the wall.
We reached the top, and I could tell she was having second thoughts as she looked down onto the undead hordes. She turned to me, looking determined to go back and find a different path to the battlefield. I shook my head, placed a hand on her shoulder, and pushed.
I lept off soon after her. I missed the tree I had been aiming for completely, landing instead into the middle of some undead, crushing one or two beneath me. The other four created a circle around me, pointing with spears and raising axes as if to kill me. I rushed to gather myself, getting to my feet. The skeletons still stood there, staring at me with empty eyes, weapons ready to kill. I took my time, barely moving my staff in the correct lines, the curves, etching the characters into the dirt. I finished, then crouched quickly, slapping my palm against the finished line, feeding my will into it. A circle appeared, two feet in diameter, igniting flames around me, engulfing the skeletons. They dropped their weapons as their bodies were destroyed, the bones turning to ash and the souls returning to Death’s realm.. As the flames died down, I swung around, looking for Veranex, finally spotting her as she set alight a few skeletons, fire shooting out of her hands. She locked eyes with me, a mad smile on her face and a deadly look in her eye.
I turned away from her, planting my staff firmly in the ground and taking off at a brisk walk, motioning for her to follow me. Most of the undead in this area were in half or burning, giving us a free passage deeper into the siege ground.
We were greeted by a rather half smashed in undead, it’s skull cracked and crumbling. I drove my staff into its breast plate, pushing it down to the ground. I slid my finger over a rune on the staff, and the breastplate started melting away, a puddle of acid forming on the metal, seeping into the bones and ruining the rib cage beneath. Another ran at me, and I caught the axe it swung at me at the shaft, pushing it away with the end of my staff. I kicked its knee in, feeling the exposed bone give way under my foot. As it fell, I let loose a rather nasty spray of fire into its skull.
Veranex and I advanced through the battlefield, coming across Sainsbo as he smashed and blasted undead with his holy might. Skeletons were not the only thing we faced though. Entropy beings and creepy, half dead togs also added to Sepulchure’s ranks. Sains joined us as we made our way through the field, trying our best to stay alive. Fire, blade, and blunt weaponry was our best friend as we made our way through that hell. We came across a few other heroes as we went through it, stopping only to heal the wounded and close the eyes of the dead.
I don’t remember a lot of most of that battle, but I remember almost dieing about seven times. We all got back to our tower late that night. We all sat around a fire, all of us untouched since the battle. No one had bothered to bathe, or change. Mostly we just sat and thought, talking once in awhile. I finally swore loudly, ripped off that piece of junk mail shirt and threw it into the fire, the leather bracers following it. “Damnable things,” I grumbled to myself.
I rested my head on my knees, staring at the ground, thinking of the dead heroes and the carnage that we had partaken in. There was a clang, and my head shot up. It took me a moment to realise that Vera was no longer wearing her chainshirt, and the sword was gone too. Both were in the fire. Odd followed suit by throwing in the tattered remains of his shirt, exposing his tattoed chest. Sains threw in both his bloodied and dented metal bracers. Shadows was at a loss at first, seeing as he had either fought as a dog or a naked human being, finally ripped off a bloodied bandage and threw it in. Z and the girl who attacked me that day, I later found out her name was Kito Domi, just stared as we each threw in something.
I was the first to get up and go to bed that night, and Shadows soon followed me. I like to think I started a tradition that day, because for every battle that followed, we did the same, throwing in something from the previous battle that was scarred, bloodied, dented, or damaged. It was an odd sort of habit, but was necessary I believe to deal with the demons that war unleashes upon one’s soul.
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