Chapter 19 - Saga 3, Anything’s Fate
Armageddon
*
The Fellowship soared over the earth below, greens and browns streaking by as a singular blur of motion. Elation met with fear as each in turn realized they’d be in General within minutes. And it was so, for already were they touching down on the outskirts of the realm, dark clouds brewing overhead.
The land of General, the sprawling metropolis of overpopulation and heated debates, rivaling Anything in its outright energy. Each member of our crew brushed himself off and prepared for the inevitable confrontation ahead, as Archer furrowed his brow and began searching for the one who was responsible for the corrosion of his home.
They marched through the city’s streets, DarkGuardian advancing beside the troglodyte. “Archer, are you so certain that it’s, you know, GreenDestiny?” The dwarf struggled for confidence in his voice, not letting known his questioning of our hero’s assuredness. Archer merely sufficed to chuckle, “Yes, it must be. It has to be.” DG shrugged and backed off, joining the ranks.
Though most of the party had spent much time in General before, it still marked a stark opposition to Anything, a discomfort rising with every step. Their locale was no longer solace, no longer power, no longer was it safe. Each advance was another inch into foreign, even enemy territory. Perhaps not all around them were cause for fear, but each was anxious, almost tangibly sensing the root of evil in this place.
As they were traveling, a few overheard TheJeepo recounting an event he’d recently attended. He was reading his own report, much to everyone’s delight, and BreathWeapon was heard to utter “Looking for good writing in the Temple is like staring into a deep dark murky river, its nice to see a change in the tides every once in awhile.”
YOYOY froze, shuffling through his own writing in disbelief. He then grit his teeth, quite tempted to rush to his own defense, but was able to keep his mouth shut, even neglecting to point out every miniscule error in BW’s own proclamation. It hit YOYOY as a sharp reminder of the nonchalant ignorance of Anything portrayed by the denizens of General. Perhaps an occasional visit would do them some good after all, he thought.
But such was the way of General, and soon they had indeed reached the innermost chambers of the sacred realm, marked by much raucous discussion being closely monitored by the Mods. Among the crowd was GreenDestiny, as Archer quickened his pace, his group forced to follow.
Soon each powerful Mod had noticed the other, eye contact made and Archer opening an avenue of conversation. “GreenDestiny, I know you’re the culprit. All I ask for now is that you-”
“No! No, you dumb trog…”
The adventurers behind aforementioned trog frowned in confusion.
“Kel’s told me all about it, the fall of Anything, it’s not me, it’s Mat… I was just about to confront him, don’t ruin this Arch-”
“Why should I believe you, Throg?” Archer showed no sign of doubt as his chest heaved with a furious breath, fists clenched, knuckles whitening. Those behind him only grew more nervous, almost wondering if they should leave the two alone.
GD scowled at the former emperor of Anything. “See for yourself.” The NoThRoG Mod slowly extended his arm and unfurled his finger in MatB’s direction.
Even as Archer looked over, GDestiny returned to policing the activity, as MB pursued an entirely different activity. He held a package in his hands, the signature intelligible from this distance, but Archer, as a fellow Mod, recognized the intent in Mat’s eyes.
Even as our fearless leader began striding towards the holder of the package, MatB was lacing a Mod boot and preparing to kick the package into oblivion. As his foot reared back, Archer broke into a dead run, but not reaching Mat in time as the package went sailing into the unfathomable distance.
Archer growled. “You kicked that into Anything, didn’t you?” The other Fellowship representatives were tense. “Well, yes, of course Archer. What’s your problem?”
“My problem is you’re killing my realm!” A hush went over the crowd as Archer rudely offered a shove, Mat regaining his balance and retorting. “Archer, I thought we were allies in that regard? If what I’ve heard is true, then I’m here to help, not hinder.” Archer fumed. “What are you talking about? Aren’t you- ... Whose was that?”
MatB raised an eyebrow, then understanding. “Oh, the package? GreenDestiny’s… why-”
Too late, Archer already sprinting off in GreenDestiny’s former direction. “Advocate, can you-”
“Already on it.” AOL, being telepathic in addition to telekinetic, had read Archer’s mind and knew his desire to track GD and keep a keen bead on him, a penguin overhead already following the order to follow and guide.
The other Fellowshippers quickly got the message and joined the hot pursuit, the relevance of the situation dawning on them as they passed several dozen citizens of General. This was it. This is what it all came down to. This is where their efforts paid off… or led to the destruction of their entire homeland.
“GreenDestiny, get back here!!” Archer yelled, his massive legs pounding at the pavement, arms pumping as every vein in his body threatened to burst. Acid_Flux took bold initiative to quicken the result of this footrace, summoning his space marine technosuit and jetting ahead of the group, soon directly over and behind GD.
Finding it an ideal spot for bringing the brute down, he drew his plasma rifle and fired, GreenD somehow dodging the errant shot with a quick turn down an adjacent alley. Acid cursed his own incompetence and fired again, confident.
The energy bolt glanced off the Moderator’s shoulder, as the green one cruelly laughed below, then turning on a heel and leaping through the air. Acid instinctively braked, before realizing that was a mistake as GD neatly plucked him in midair with one massive hand. AFlux braced for impact, even as GDestiny’s gigantic fist drove Acid_Flux back to the ground below, managing to crack it on impact.
GreenDestiny was back off and running, the Fellowship finding it hard to keep up amidst the unfamiliar avenues. Archer mulled over Acid’s action in his mind, knowing that while in General, it’d be awfully difficult to harm Green Destiny.
So why was he running?
Archer found it difficult to remain optimistic about the inevitable answer, as it was soon to come, the rapid bunch leaving the city behind, now well within the outskirts of General.
However, their dash was halted by the sudden appearance of a small explosion of smoke, a foul being emerging from the eruption. “Ah, been a while. Ter-Soth tells me you’re all still quite the uncooperative bunch.” He then briefly flashed back out of existence again, now cackling behind them as a stray arrow’s flight went unchecked. Stormcrow had tried, so desperately tried, to catch the demon off guard…
“Nightcrawler!”
ShadowStar couldn’t help but blurt it out, and as a result was marked as the first victim, nightcrawler rapidly delivering several dozen teleport punches in the span of two seconds. When the flurry was over, for a moment ShadowStar was reduced to a pitifully writhing mass of pain sprawled on the ground.
Then nightcrawler gasped, eyes widened, startled. It seemed he was stuck in midair, Advocate_of_Lycanthrope grinning nearby. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner. I can keep you stuck there forever. You’re completely under my control now, aren’t you? Any attempt to get away now would result in violent atomization.” Nightcrawler grinned in return. “You’re not too keen on your physics, are you?” He chuckled before neatly slipping out of AOL’s grasp, the penguin left growling before being interrupted with several teleport kicks to the beak, each connecting even before the last had finished its motion. Spectacular, the way he can do that. Hard to adequately describe in words.
“You’re right,” AOL panted from his hands and knees, “I’m partial to chemistry, myself.” The penguin then bellowed, a blue-hot fireball rushing forth from his maw, incinerating a thoroughly surprised nightcrawler, not to mention the Fellowship witnesses. The assailant wailed in pain, his voice ending with a sudden rip as ShadowStar violently tore a dull Mod blade through his face, smiling in utter satisfaction.
The two nodded to each other, not daring to taste victory yet, as they exchanged hurried glances with the rest of the Fellowship. That is, what they assumed to be the rest of the Fellowship. Their number seemed a bit thinned out.
*
Archer’s feet furiously bounded forward, completely ignoring nightcrawler’s appearance. He kept following GreenDestiny, who was now exiting General limits into the vast unnamed land between the realms. The trog’s mind raced as well, trying to figure out GD’s method to his madness. Then his purpose was revealed.
A very large gate suddenly appeared yards ahead of GreenDestiny, Archer recognizing it as the entryway into the Mod Lounge. GD was already laughing in mighty triumph as the gate opened for him and he dashed inside.
Archer squinted, his lungs burning without a care as he made his effort to surmount the threshold. Someone emerged from the portal in a blinding halo of light.
Archer slowed his pace, breathing heavily of utter aggravation, his goal within few paces, the gate already closing. He began to run forward again, until stopping in his tracks.
“Ah, yes. The one thing standing between you and GreenDestiny. Ironic, isn’t it?”
While Archer was still digesting the scenario, Ter-Soth nicely drop-kicked the trog in the chest. Archer rapidly got back up to his feat, shrugging it off. “That’s it. I’ve had about enough of-” He didn’t even let himself finish his own sentence as he delivered a powerful right cross into Ter-Soth’s jaw, the former boy scout flying back and colliding with the closed gate of the Lounge.
The being of reason chuckled as he stood up.
It began to rain.
*
Even the first shy drops of the coming storm provided enough cover noise for BATMAN’s stealthy rooftop traversing. He had no trouble spotting General_Lund earlier, who was now clearly lost amidst the cluttered boulevards of General. He was soon forced into a narrow side street, alone. It was then that Batman decided to strike.
He huddled on the edge of the rooftop like a gargoyle, whipping twin batarangs toward his quarry. The small projectiles struck, neatly spurting drops of blood from Lund’s body that coalesced with the rain. The General fell, his still frame flatly crumpling to the dirt.
Batman was taken aback, finding this task far too easy. He patiently waited for further sign of motion, finding none, only a small pool of crimson forming beside the general’s head. He sighed, dropping silently beside the prone body to check for any indication of life. He bent over and extended his arm, only to feels his jaw drop on its own accord, horrified as he saw, for the briefest of moments, General Lund’s eyes snap open.
The mercenary hopped up, roaring ahead as he grabbed Batman in his big arms and smashed him into a wall. He then kept a hand on his neck, looking up at him with disdain, red droplets still cascading down his cheekbone, terribly near his neck.
Batman tensed, his fingers working to wrench Lund’s grip away, but it was too late. The general had already drawn his sword, now shoving it through Batman’s bowels with a horrible noise. Batman whelped, wincing even as he began to cough up blood, Lund seething with appropriate vengeance.
Batman then managed a grin. “You didn’t think I’d let you have it that easy, did you?” Before Lund could respond, his midsection trembled, a blunt force delivered to his crotch. He released the blade, bending over and crying out in agony.
The batman laughed heartily, admirably slipping the sword out of his own stomach. “Haha! Kicked you in the BALLS!” He continued laughing, before the laugh degenerated into a dry hacking, then further into a wet gurgle before he numbly met the surface below.
General Lund groaned as he turned over and spat on his adversary.
*
The graveghoul awoke from his unsteady slumber, his soul rippling with the waves of death above, his mind shuddering in the presence of pain. He cackled, grabbing his familiar scythe, then leaving his personal Hades and heading towards Lore, and the waiting harvest around General.
*
DarkKnightZach rounded a corner, growling in a rage. He was sure they’d gone this way, Archer and GreenDestiny. He was certain he’d be able to keep up, but found himself at failure, unsure of his bearings.
He let out a yell and kicked over a nearby crate, its contents spilling into the street, bystanders gasping and quietly getting out of Zach’s way.
He fell to his knees, body quivering in anger, fists balled and teeth grit, face reddening. He had confidence. He was going to keep up, going to help, going to-
“Kill them all.”
He stood up, instantly drawing twin daggers and standing back to a structure, glancing back and forth, even upward, searching for the little voice he’d heard.
“Down here, Zach.”
The Deverenian knight slowly lowered his head, finding himself staring at a little dodo bird. He blinked.
“You have to kill them all.”
The bird slowly nodded, Zach not feeling at ease.
“This way…”
And with that, the dodo began running, its awkward feet trotting across the ground, DKZ eagerly following his only hope at the moment.
“So, what are you?”
The dodo chittered.
“Just call me NirvanaTool.”
*
DarkGuardian cleared the fence, YOYOY and Stormcrow soon following, Drexlin soon after. The seasoned dwarf looked up, taking a moment to stare down the sky, now a billowing mass of blackened clouds firing infinite volleys of raindrops on those earthbound. “They’re this way, right up-”
They stopped in their tracks. Looming a fair distance ahead was Archer and Ter-Soth, each exchanging blows that rocked the countryside, echoing through the distance. The being of light was laughing evilly with every blow given or received, Archer remaining in a stern silence, ever strong. Their backdrop: the entrance to the Mod Lounge, symbol of ultimate fate.
Each drew their weaponry, surmising the prickly puzzle at hand, looking to buy Archer enough time to enter the Lounge in pursuit of GreenDestiny. Drexlin shook his head, apologizing as he stepped back, finding it all too big for his humble self.
The others didn’t give him any grief, YOYOY and DarkGuardian settling for marching forth, each armed with a blunt instrument of death. Stormcrow stayed with Drex, drawing his bow.
DG abruptly broke into a gallop, hammer raised high with a proud battle cry of a warrior offering a chance at salvation, but it seemed he wouldn’t get the chance.
The portal to the Mod Lounge, seeming to recede and even grow, began also to slowly open, and out of it flowed a bloodthirsty army of NoThRoG.
DarkGuardian slowed to a walk, hammer drooping, the fight between Archer and Ter-Soth drawing off to the side as the NoThRoG passed them unaware. It seemed as though DG would have to face them alone. Well, with YOYOY, but the scribe was already running back to the relative safety of Drexlin and Stormcrow, muttering incomprehensibly about the likelihood of them all dying.
The stout stuntie furrowed his brow, tightening the grip on his hammer and bravely stood his ground. He couldn’t help but think that this would be a grand battle, if he had his dwarven brethren by his side.
The NoThRoG advanced, a screaming, maniacal mass of green death. Some were huge, giants that gripped weapons larger than the beings they were created to slay. Others were wiry, berserk blade-wielders wearing little armor, favoring mobility instead.
DG swung his sledge back, turning sideways and swinging it as though up to the plate in baseball. “Yeah, that’s right, bring your ugly faces this way, come on, I’m waiting, you slimy pieces of-”
Even as he first swung, drilling a darker throg through the soldiers behind him, another battle cry erupted. A horn was blown that DarkGuardian recognized, and several penguins flew overhead, chattering excitedly as the whole population of the Dwarven Caves rushed forward to meet DG in his plight, nearly trampling YOYOY and Drexlin on their way, Stormcrow having found a decent sniping spot.
The impact was utterly incredible as the two armies clashed with a singular sound multiplied by the hundreds of clanging steel instruments and not threatening to die down any time soon.
Drex and YOYOY stayed back, astounded, mouths agape. Acid_Flux soon joined them, running over as soon as he’d found his way out of the din of General.
“What’s happening?”
YOYOY and Drexlin exchanged a quick glance, Drex nodding YOYOY to speak. “It seems Archer and Ter-Soth are involved in some kind of desperate duel, GreenDestiny having escaped into the Mod Lounge but somehow summoning his army of NoThRoG through it. Fortunately, Advocate’s amazing penguins were able to bring the entire dwarven army to our aide.”
Acid chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief, trying to mask his insurmountable sense of dread with lightheartedness. “I suppose this bit is too big for us. Drex, how about a drink?” The three grinned, casting their worries aside and proposing a toast to hope.
*
CardinalFang panted, quite unhappy with the rain that was threatening to ruin his suit. He took a few more deep breaths, the streets of General emptying amidst the night and the storm. He leaned against the outer wall of a fine dining establishment, wondering if he’d ever reunite with the Fellowship. He felt like he’d been running for hours, though he knew it couldn’t have been longer than 15 minutes.
The droplets only added to the slick appearance of his hair as his ears stung, his mind refusing to believe their inherent knack for sensing danger. He snapped to his feet, drawing twin golden PP7s and scanning the area, tightening his breathing as to not make a further sound.
But there was something odd in the air, eerily mixing with the thunder and rainfall. A light hum, a funny buzz, a-
Voice. Singing. Someone was singing.
He squinted in the direction of the sound. You know, so he could hear better. It grew louder, clearer, an instrument now apparent as accompaniment to the voice.
He audibly gasped in recognition.
“But I love you… though you’re covered in excrement… like a dung fountain…”
He licked his lips at the thought of a fecal spray, then smacking himself. “No,” he crazily chided himself, “You’ve given up those ways, you’re better than that now! You’re-”
”... Hippo girl… foulest thing in God’s creation… Hippo girl…”
And there she was. Holy crap there she was, indeed. The abomination herself, prime candidate for hipposuction and poster girl for justifiable homicide. The stench, intensified by the pounding rain, was soon wafting all about through the air, a most repugnant smell, a vomit-inducing odor.
CFang tried to hate it, he really did, but just couldn’t. He gazed upon the Hippo Girl as she turned towards him with a clothespeg grin. “Fang? Is it really you?” The voice was deep, but its repulsiveness found in the fact that it still managed to be light and… giggly.
His breathing quickened again as he raised his pistols towards the foul freak of nature. “Don’t take another step closer, or I’ll-”
“Whoa. Where have you BEEN all my life, babe?!?”
CFang looked around like a man who had just been told that his ex-wife was about to shoot him with a crossbow.
The Hippo_Girl also looked about, sniffing, the air actually fighting against the force of her nostrils, not wanting to be sucked into the bowels of hellish repugnancy that was perfectly manifested in her form.
Someone hopped down from the roof, spraining his ankle on the landing but not caring one bit. He was obviously a class clown, crude and crass. He farted with each step, as if to confirm your suspicions at first sight. You’d think such frequent flatulence would wane in power, but not so, as each seemed even worse than the last, quite a feat in wind-breaking.
“What’s an abysmally ugly girl like you doing in a- well, okay, maybe you do fit right in.” He grinned, introducing himself as jordan0447, the clown prince of fartdom. The hippo giggled, actually blushing in return. “I’m Hippo Girl… teehee…”
“Hippo Girl, what are you doing?!?”
The two newfound lovers shot CardinalFang a curt look. “Butt out, prettyboy.” Hippo Girl laughed and clapped delightedly at the extraordinarily bad pun jordan just made, before deciding to speak for herself. “I’m flirting, what’s your problem? We’re done, remember? We’re through, and furthermore- OH! Oh my gosh, you’re jealous, aren’t you?”
The two began to laugh quite vigorously (yes, vigorously, as applied to laughter, you heard me!), sides about to split and such. That is, until a shot rang out and jordan’s body went completely limp.
The hippo girl was outraged. “Fang! How dare you! He was-” She promptly shut up as CardinalFang tossed aside his weaponry and removed his clothing, ripping off his surgically-enhanced exterior in favor of the old-school CFang.
He groaned as he ripped the last bit off, then let out a long-awaited sigh of relief as his pores oozed their various concoctions of mucus, puss, blood, sweat, urine, and something completely unidentifiable. He celebrated his return by biting into a large boil on his thigh and sucking up all its liquid as he moaned in delight.
Hippo Girl could only watch, frozen, unsure what to think.
Cardinal then grunted and winced for a moment, a steaming pile of crap forming under him. He scooped it up, then trotting over to the hippo like a giddy little schoolboy, licking the pile thoroughly on his way.
Once there, he offered it as an apology gift, Hippo Girl accepting by way of consumption. Then they kissed, deep and passionately, each still able to taste the poop. They then moaned in sheer pleasure as Hippo Girl regurgitated down CFang’s throat, the overflow dribbling down his neck, glinting in the dusk.
From there it only got much worse. Much, much, much, much, much, much, much worse. Like, totally freakin’ worse.
Don’t worry, I won’t give you the details. I’m keeping them all to myself.
Mmmm… oh, baby… yes… that’s right you dirty hippo… ooo…
*
General_Lund and DarkKnightZach nearly killed each other as they rounded the same dark corner.
“Zach?” “Yes, it’s me! Put your sword down!” “Alright, alright, geez…” “Hey, wait a minute… how do I know you’re the real General Lund?” ”... What do you mean?”
DKZ grinned and slit Lund’s throat in a talented manner. The blood initially spurted all over the Dev’s face and armor. He wiped it off even as the undead general hit the ground. Moments later, he was back up, wound healed, perfectly fine. NirvanaTool seemed rather disappointed in this uncanny act of healing, citing it as unfair and unnatural.
“You’re really going to have to stop doing that,” General-Lund chuckled, still in good humor. “Stop what?”
Zach chortled as he rammed his dagger into the mercenary’s chest, tearing it down to his abdomen, emptying him of much of his blood and organs as it all splayed across the stony ground. The dodo cheered in delight. Moments later, the General was back up, yawning and stretching as everything leapt back into place in a grisly-yet-downright-fascinating manner.
“That. You know, the killing me and such. It has to end.” “What, like this?”
DarkKnightZach grabbed Lund’s face and pulled it to his chest before adjusting his grip and twisting forcefully, the general’s neck snapping just right. Moments later, General Lund was back on his feet, ****ing his head back and forth, cracking his neck back into place. He then furrowed his brow and drew a hasty breath before going on.
“Stop it, Zach. I mean it.” “What are you talking about?”
The deverenian knight laughed loudly as he this time slammed his other dagger into Lund’s abdomen and pulled it upward. The little dodo bird snickered. “That’s right Zach, kill him! Kill them all! Yes, kill them all. You must kill them, every last one. Kill them. Kill them all.” A moment later, Lund was back up and ready.
“Stop killing me, you idiot!” “I know what you are, but what am I?”
A complete decapitation this time, the general’s head rolling across the ground before reversing its motion and reattaching, Zach rolling his eyes yet having the time of his life.
“Measly little runt!” “I know what you are, but what am I?”
He hacked off General-Lund’s limbs after that clever comment, allowing him to yet again bleed to death in the rain-soaked street. But, soon enough, the blood crept back into the body as Lund rose back to life, rolling his eyes.
“Let’s just find the others, alright?” Zach shrugged. “Fine.” They began marching, arguing about directions on the way. “Kill them all, Zach, kill them all!”
*
Advocate_of_Lycanthrope hovered over to the threesome, ShadowStar in tow. “Hey guys! Want a drink?” AFlux shook his head, even if Drex wasn’t referring to him. “None for me. Such beverages only serve to impair one’s ability to fight. Or whatever the heck I said last time you asked.” Drexlin perused his inventory. “Uh, you know, not all my drinks are alcoholic…” Acid scooted closer. “Really? You have cherry KoolAid by any chance?” Drexlin nodded. “Why, of course!” He began preparing a pitcher, fondly remembering the joke about why blondes can’t make KoolAid.
“Because they can’t figure out how to get two quarts of water into that tiny packet! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”
The quintet slowly backed away from the telepathic penguin, frightened, questioning his mental stability.
Except Drexlin, who, in unprepared recognition of the comment, about wet himself.
Nearby, a lich began laughing as well, apparently recognizing the punchline. It was Morghen, the all-purpose lich for every occasion.
“Haha, yeah, I got one, who’s the Free Kingdoms god of children’s literature?”
The quintet shifted nervously upon the grassy knoll, not daring to venture a guess.
“Dr. Neuss! You know, the author of One Lich Two Lich Red Lich Blue Lich? AHAHAHAHAHA!!!”
The group groaned, Acid raising a hand in mock formality. “You know, that’s not actually how you pronounce it. You see,”
“What are you talking about?” questioned ShadowStar. “I’m just saying-” “Oh, yeah, like you have any right to say anything. You’re the one who completely ruined this story’s continuity by cracking your little ‘alcohol impairs my judgment’ remark even though earlier you were clearly mentioned as drinking with us as we offered a toast to hope!” “YOYOY, nobody wouldn’t ever noticed if you’d just shut up every once in a-” “Excuse me? Are you implying that-” “Besides, it was a clever jab at a comment I’ve made before, which-” “Yeah, speaking of things nobody would notice…”
YOYOY rolled his eyes, Acid_Flux silenced, though mostly just in annoyance. The penguin shrugged and flew off to be useful, the Freek Mod sighed and asked Drexlin for another drink, the lich slinking off into the night, dejected and miserable.
The clouds continued to empty.
*
Archer pinned Ter-Soth to the mud, rocking back and forth in motion with his vicious swings to the boy scout’s jaw. However, each blow seemed to have no effect, as had the previous hundred…
The being of light managed to shove Archer off, the trog reeling back, sluggishly missing a block as Ter-Soth’s fist collided with his chin. Our valiant hero stumbled backwards, bruised and battered, wondering why this was so hard, then remembering, though the being of reason felt the need to mercilessly remind him anyway.
“You still don’t get it, do you? Today marks a golden age for Lore, a new beginning! Away with the useless, pointless, mismatching realms and in with proper civilization and self-reliance with consistency! Face it, Archer: Anything is gone! Dead! Consumed by its very foundation! Your home is destroyed, never to be restored again! You’ve lost! As Anything falls, you grow weaker, and I grow stronger! Give up now, stop making such a mess of things, and maybe we’ll let you live, even slip you in as a Mod of General! How’s that sound, troglodyte?”
Archer rose solidly to his feet, slightly hunched over, wiping the sweat from his brow and the blood still slowly oozing from the cut above his lip. He slowly nodded, taking a single step forward, then mustering all of his strength into another swing, his right hand flying forward on its own, slick nailing Ter-Soth in the nose with disdain. The bright one was knocked back, rolling down a soft slope.
“That answer your question, boy scout?”
Archer then fell to one knee, a hand in the mud to brace himself as he wheezed. He felt completely spent, exhausted, fatigued, as if another move would kill him. Every drop that hit his skin brought the pain of a bruise, a thousand times over, every minute. His vision was becoming blurry, edges of his vision darkening, flashing red.
Yet he fought, and continued fighting. And nobody was around to appreciate it.
Ter-Soth spat out a mouthful of muck and briskly stood up, grinning maliciously at our savior.
“You hear that, Archer?”
The Mod Lounge gate was opening again, churning slowly, something ominous bellowing from within.
“That is the sound of inevitability.”
Archer rose to his feet, scowling at the little traitor.
*
The advocate was already in the air, flying well over the battling troops below as he sought a better look at what was emerging from the Mod portal now. He lowered his flight, only to almost regret doing so as he saw it clearly, a startling vividness.
Flowing out from the gate was another army, this one composed of elves.
He closed his eyes, freezing in midair above the battlefield. He focused, concentrating harder than he ever had before. Soon his sixth sense kicked in, and he gained a perspective of the world no other had known. He saw it as a singularity, no space between its elements, physical location a mere concept. He reached out with his mind, seeking to weave further threads of connection between allies back in the factional lands. Tendrils extended before him, vast amounts of energy seeming to cackle before his vision as he read the minds of every single being in Lore, some more actively than others.
Several of his telekinetic telepathic missile-launcher-toting penguin commandos had already received the signal and were well on their way to the Deverenian Empire.
AOL’s eyes snapped back open, reality returning as if a dream. He could only hope they’d get here faster than possible, quicker than necessary.
He considered joining the battle himself.
But no, not yet…
*
DarkGuardian ignored the deathly screams of a pair of dwarves behind him, cleaved by NoThRoG weaponry. Instead he chose vengeance, exerting more energy than was needed as he proceed to neatly pound a NoThRoG into the mud, soon with only his head exposed, groaning with pain, choking on silt.
“Fore!” He swung his great sledge like a golf club of the gods, as the head went soaring into the distance, a stump now spurting blood as if a fountain.
The dwarf grinned, relishing the fear in the NoThRoG eyes.
Yet he could not ignore that he and the dwarves were fighting a losing battle, outnumbered and considerably outsized. Even Dr. Demoniac was finding difficulty coming up with constant smiting power.
He then noticed the bone warriors galloping forth on necromantic steeds, the very stench of mortality woven through their every instrument of war.
He was disheartened, but only momentarily, as he heard another battle cry, this one more sophisticated and steely.
The Deverenians had arrived in assistance, and thus began a battle of four armies.
*
GreenDestiny pounded his first through a nearby table.
“I don’t believe it. The armies aren’t enough. They have armies of their own!”
He slowly turned behind him, grinning to the assembled mercenaries, specialists in their field.
“I might be needing you boys after all.”
*
Stormcrow stood on the roof, last vestige of General, the edge of its outer rim. He drew his bow, readying a long bolt and squaring his sight ahead. From here, the battle was a blur. Or, at least, to most.
He squinted slightly, focusing, clearing his peripheral vision for the moment. His reptilian eyes thinned, acting as the scopes he’d honed over the years.
He watched as one of his brethren galloped forward, bringing his skeletal sword down upon the neck of a Deverenian. The blow didn’t pierce the armor, but knocked him back nonetheless. A quick swing later, the elven rider having to lean lithely down and to the side to lop the head off an oncoming dwarf. The bearded axe-wielder never had a chance.
Master Stormcrow released the missile, accounting for wind, distance, momentum. Perhaps a couple seconds later, his arrow pierced the skull of his elven kin, and he could only watch as his victim mouthed an exclamation of horror, even as a crimson torrent slid past his lips, shaft growing out of his eye socket.
Stormcrow himself winced, collapsing to the roof’s surface, dropping his bow and clutching his knee, choking back a hot tear.
*
Matrim casually strode from General’s city limits, standing on a convenient hill that actually offered a decent view of the raging battle of a consequence he’d never fully know. He sat, sighing at the fact that he had absolutely nothing better to do than watch the epic bloodbath.
Soon someone joined him, sitting near, a being soon introducing himself as ShadowcatX, who continued.
“And you?” “Matrim.” “Matrim? Never heard of you.” ”... Uh, yeah.”
Matrim shifted uncomfortably.
“So Mate, what’re you here for?”
Matrim oddly shrugged, not finding a use for his vocabulary at the moment.
“Heh, yeah. Same here. I dunno what I’m doing.”
Matrim managed a chuckle, nodding along.
“I’m just along for the ride, you know? No meaning. Just… here. No reason.” “Yeah…” “I mean, I bet we could do something, join that battle, pull out some cool weapons and, you know.” “Actually do something.” “Yes, exactly! But, no, we just sit here.” “No reason.” “Yep.”
And so they did. Heh.
*
Acid_Flux gasped. YOYOY had to ask, “What?”
“What are we doing? We’re having a freakin’ picnic here! Screw this!”
The sharp-shooter with a heart of gold stood up, summoning his space marine technology in a brilliant flash, jet-blasting off to war, already fully clicked over to BadAcid mode and cooking off a few dozen rounds.
The remaining drinkers shrugged, YOYOY drawing his measly little club, figuring it wasn’t worth it.
Drexlin, however, sighed. Half elf, half dwarf. He gazed at the field, sprinkled with the life fluid of hundreds of souls already, Devs and dwarves on our side, elves and NoThRoG on the other.
He took a deep breath, breaking a couple bottles on a rock and walking towards the skirmish. The humble barkeep, marching off to dignity and doom alike.
ShadowStar briskly got up and walked ahead of him, drawing a large Mod sword and hoping for the best.
YOYOY rolled his eyes and followed, figuring it wouldn’t be a bad day to die, I guess.
*
DarkKnightZach and General_Lund laughed long and hard at the sight before them. Finally finding their way out of General, they watched the battle, now clearly one-sided. The penguin brigade had joined in, missiles ripping through the air, weapons parrying on their own accord.
“Too easy. We got it made, don’t even need to get involved. I bet DG’s having fun, though.”
Lund grinned, nodding. The dodo chanted, “But Zach, you must kill them all. Kill them all. Kill them all.”
“So Anything’s saved?”
Zach then frowned. NirvanaTool kept up, “Kill them all! Kill them all!!!”
“Actually, no, the battle’s something like just a big stall tactic, I think. Archer still has to enter the Mod Lounge. Even from there, I’m not sure what he can do…”
Lund’s face fell, disappointed. The dodo rolled its eyes, thoroughly ignored.
“So there’s nothing we can do?”
Zach shook his head. “Kill them all!”
“I guess not. Even if we joined the battle, for what? The whole enemy armies don’t have a chance against us. We’re elite, not fit for this. I hate to say it, but it’s true. It’s a waste. We might as well have a drink back at a pub somewhere in General. I mean, you can’t even die, and I-”
Something wailed, a large blur striking Zach and sending him and the phantom shape tumbling in the mud, rain still falling, thunder still rolling. Lund only stared wide-eyed, “Zach?!?”
“Get OFF me!” The Deverenian duelist kicked the ugly thing off, a little runt of chittering and chattering. He drew a rapier and thrust it downward, the wretch writhing to avoid it, leaping up back onto Zach’s face, clawing his eyes out as the knight fumbled around, crying out sharply in pain, slamming his own face into the ground to get the monster off.
It was still, except a bit of twitching. Zach could only pant, holding his face, wondering if his eyes were still intact. “What the @#$% IS that?!?” The mercenary general hesitantly stepped toward the prone shape. “It’s a rat. Just a big, mean rat.” He drew his own sword, raising it above his head, intending to decapitate the rambunctious rodent.
It was not to happen, as the dark beast leapt straight up in a spectacular feat of agility, flaying its clawed limbs as it did so like a severely freaked out cat. Lund had no time to react as it clamped onto his neck, biting and gouging into his jugular, ripping one of his lips off, growling in an ugly manner.
DKZach swung blindly, not daring to try his sight just yet. He felt his blade rip through a lot of flesh, and heard Lund’s body drop to the ground. He slid his hand off his face, blinking painfully, ignoring the agony, one of his eyes clearly disabled, the other having a torn lid.
He looked down through blurred vision, noting that he’d managed to chop the nasty bugger in half, killing Lund in the process. He smiled as the general reanimated.
“What was that?” “Death_of_Rats.” “What?” “I didn’t say anythi-”
The General’s head popped off, falling to the earth, its descent interrupted by a sack as it fell perfectly in. The sack was tightened, cinched, the head unable to rejoin with the body, even as the latter sickeningly tried to mold itself around the container of the former.
“Just you and me, Zach.” “But you’re dead!” “What, like Lund is dead?”
Manji cackled maniacally as he jumped forward, Zach barely managing to block the flurry of blades. The knight actually surprised himself, remarkably attaining the feat with only one eye, a bad one at that. He then noticed that Manji was wielding two katanas in each hand. He grinned, thinking finally he’d found a suitable challenge. He took another rapier from a sheath, twirling them, six blades ready to strike in this duel for the ages.
Manji hunched down, stepping sideways, soon the two combatants were circling each other, a ring of death.
Zach jabbed a blade forward, Manji catching it between two of his, thrusting the other hand forward with its own double set. Zach caught it with his other rapier, twisting, pulling it all back behind him and kicking Manji in the face.
The samurai extreme rolled back, growling. In an instant he plucked a trio of shurikens from a hidden fold and rifled them toward Zach.
The Dark Knight blocked two with his blades, easily dodging the third. He laughed, impressing himself.
Manji rushed forward, yelling, desperate.
Swing, swing, clack, clang, whiff, chink chink, whiff, clack, chink whiff clang clang whiff chink clink whiff clack clank whiff tack whiff clack clack chink clink whiff tonk crack clack crack rip.
Zach shoved Manji off, the bladesman limply falling back, chest torn open and rhythmically pulsing out a crimson flood.
The Dev sheathed his swords, taking an eased breath, until Manji’s wound shut itself, the blood oozing back in, the samurai laughing and rising to his feet.
DarkKnightZach, duelist supreme, dropped his jaw in disbelief. Not this. Not now. Not him.
Manji prepared for another assault, then squinting at something, then his eyes widening in contact as he muttered “Ethan?”
He then flew into the distance, over the horizon, an unseen force propelling him as if to verily throw him out of Lore itself.
The giant penguin chuckled, Zach shaking his head in fortunate thanks, AOL nodding and flying off.
“Wait…”
The giant penguin was back momentarily.
“If your telekinesis is that strong, if you can just toss anyone about at will, even in large numbers, why not resolve the battle now? Simply toss the elves and NoThRoGs a few miles away, and surely they’d die on impact anyway.”
The penguin blinked, cursing himself for not thinking of that sooner.
NirvanaTool grinned.
*
DG was going bowling, ten elves ahead of him and a NoThRoG near, who he simply knocked towards the ten with his trusty hammer, watching the bodies fall, daring to hope they’d get back up. Bring it on, puny lizards.
And rise they did, though he rose in eyebrow at the fashion, as their bodies left gravity, levitating. He looked above, and against the background of darkened sky were several penguins, including their leader, focusing intently on the task at hand, separating the forces into two groups. Keep or throw away.
And soon a single scream ripped through the air as the countless enemy soldiers remaining now violently left in one massive cloud of flesh.
For a moment, the battlefield was eerily silent, the time one of complete disorientation. But it sunk in, and all cheered, dwarven and Deverenian forces alike in one solid voice of triumph.
YOYOY, Drexlin, and ShadowStar cheered as well, having barely begun to fight, yet thankful for their early release from the brutality.
AOL smiled down, proud, until he noticed a single elf remaining. Some of the ground forces had noticed as well, slowly surrounding him, exchanging doubtful, fearful glances. Who was this elf that didn’t budge under AOL’s telekinetic prowess?
“I AM GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
The elf raised a single hand, as a streak of lightning shot across the skies, actually leaving the clouds and seeking its target as all its energy was driven into Advocate_of_Lycanthrope. A burst of flame and feathers, as the former penguin commander plummeted to earth, splashing in the mud on impact.
*
Ter-Soth solidly punched Archer in the gut, following up in kind with his other first, then one more for good measure, never breaking a sweat, the trog falling back, wincing as it hurt to merely breathe by now.
“Archer… I just broke three of your ribs.”
Archer spat up a mouthful of blood, slowly standing up for the thousandth time on wobbly legs.
“Give up. No use going any further. Your effort, while admirable, will never be appreciated. Anything is dead, Archer.”
Archer shook his head.
“Not as long as I’m here.”
He then turned heel and ran, breathing heavily as he summoned every last bit of will towards getting into the Mod Lounge now or never…
“Hey!”
Ter-Soth followed in step, not remembering the gate being so close.
*
Acid_Flux stopped firing.
“Aw, come on, give me a brea-”
A sidewinder slammed into his armor, blasting him back towards the cold hard earth. He maintained his thrusters, avoiding a messy impact, turning and letting loose a furious volley of plasma bolts towards siege911.
“I’m really getting sick of you, siege!” “Likewise!”
They began their dance of death, twirling acrobatically through the air, filling the atmosphere with exhaust as they fired relentlessly upon each other. They were moving far too fast, too agile, turning too sharply for any shot to actually hit. Aiming was impossible, as each by this point could only rely on luck.
But then, as Acid slowed in surprise, siege sank to the ground, landing in obscurity, the battlefield no longer even visible. The Heavy Weapons grunt hunched over, falling to one knee.
Acid_Flux, curiosity getting the best of him, stopped firing and landed close, though wary. He took a step back, “What’s wrong…?”
Siege911 chuckled. “My time here is done. There is another.”
An atomic bomb went off, mushroom cloud rising, AFlux having been disintegrated.
That is, had it not been for his handy energy shield thingy. Automatically activated as soon as siege hit his self-destruct button. Even with it, though, Acid took quite a blow, tossed back half a mile and tumbling through the throng of dwarves and Devs, groaning as he knew this would really hurt the next morning.
Something burst through the cloud cover overhead and came straight down onto Acid_Flux, a super man clad in blue and red. Superman2d3, to be precise.
He picked Acid_Flux up and tossed him into the air, trying to incinerate him with his heat vision. But Acid had fully accepted an entirely new identity, one now no longer possessing weakness or fault. So Superman flew over, beating Acid farther and farther up into the atmosphere as they pierced the very clouds, clear blue skies all around.
Acid_Flux took a moment to appreciate the wonderful change in locale, then drawing a rifle, the gun actually modifying itself as he took sight, his armor growing and expanding, his capabilities doubling every minute even without his knowledge.
He fired, the shot glancing off superman’s chest, who was now laughing, yet growing aggravated at the unforeseen difficulty of this attack.
This could take a while.
*
Archer was there, running faster, so close, almost in the Lounge, until he was trampled by the Free Kingdoms, now having gone evil, perverted by the malevolent purposes of GreenDestiny.
He tried to avoid them, stepping aside, not managing very well, driven back by the mass, his goal now impossible, the gate receding into the distance. The noble trog blacked out as he hit the drenched earth, for now only a large stepping stone.
The spirits of the dwarves and Devs was crushed. Here they were, exhausted, depleted in number, dependent on a penguin now presumed dead, a lone elven GOD!!!!!!!111 standing amongst them, and what now?
A whole other full, fresh army was entering the fray.
DarkGuardian scowled, turning to the disheartened troops behind him, addressing the weary ahead of him, attending to those beside him as he spoke.
“What’s wrong? Today, we are winning. They’re scared, desperate, frightened! Who are we to be afraid of a bunch of farmer’s daughters and momma’s boys? No offense, ShadowStar...”
Shadow shrugged, by now pretty much numb, the events of the day (night? week?) weighing far too heavily on him, a burden none of the Fellowship was finding easy to handle.
Yet this was their moment. Their final hope. But was any hope really to be found?
*
Superman was carrying Acid_Flux, even as he turned into a perfectly self-reliant cyborg mech construction. Acid tried everything, unable to pierce superman’s impervious frame. The caped one sped up his flight just a tad, until they pierced the very edge of Lore’s sky, the blueness aside, blackness presiding.
“You still need oxygen to breathe, Fellowship scum.”
The superman began tearing into Acid’s fantastical suit, peeling back layer by layer, the NoThRoG remaining stern within. Superman2d3 couldn’t understand it, how this pathetic adversary could keep so stoic against certain death.
Then Acid’s armor instantaneously grew a coat of kryptonite, superman’s jaw dropped and bulk thinning, every square inch of his skin beginning to burn.
Acid_Flux really began to pour it on, pounding superman’s costume with kryptonite rounds from the guns still functioning. Soon superman was reduced to a scorched, smoking, hulking heavy piece of debris falling back to Lore.
AFlux didn’t bother to celebrate just yet as he began repairing himself by sheer will.
*
And so the battle renewed, now of five armies, though now only three were really present, a fourth represented by a single GOD!!!!! among mortals.
It was this misanthropic elf who was seemingly in control of things, with the dwarves and Devs on one side of him, Freeks on the other. He was yelling far too loud, incoherent, blindly flailing his hands about and threatening to smite everyone.
Archer groaned, feeling number, as though paralyzed from the eyebrows down. He looked to the gate, the portal into his only choice, and it began to shrink. He tormented, thinking he’d never make it there now. The only light remaining in his mind was now that the door was closing, it’d mean no more armies. But the door didn’t close completely. It remained open, though very small. Still a sliver of hope. Perhaps it was the shred of Mod left in our trog.
Misanthropic_elf was giggling excitedly, enjoying his newfound power, until something streaked through the clouds, a flaming rocket falling at a stellar rate.
The object fell directly onto GOD, rightly killing him. All the armies, even in opposition, found a common point on which to cheer, the charred remains of Superman2d3 still smoking in the crater where the elf now lay.
Stormcrow readied his bow, DarkGuardian tightened his grip on his hammer, DarkKnightZach let General_Lund’s head return to his body as NirvanaTool told the knight to kill them all.
YOYOY, ShadowStar, and Drexlin kept each other in sight as they strode forth, the Fellowship on their final hurrah.
Even CardinalFang finally emerged onto the battlefield, after so many hours of indescribable… doings… between him and the Hippo Girl. He grinned toothily, a sight horrid enough to make serial killers vomit in their sleep.
Heroes made themselves known, giants on the field, still seeking other heroes for assistance, the whole of their resources concentrated on saving the hallowed realm of Anything.
And to that call answered Ranzadule, crazed jackass running into the field of death, his presence a beacon of much-needed hope among the Anything sympathizers.
And so it began, the clash to end all clashes, as the evil Freeks in their vast numbers worked to turn back the Fellowship and their remaining allied army.
Then, Acid_Flux parted the skies, pushing back the clouds of storm and letting a new day dawn on the days of Lore. He was now impossibly powerful, an avatar still growing.
The Freeks were in gloom under his shadow, until a single being strode forth from the Mod Lounge portal, someone especially designated by GreenDestiny to the task of keeping Acid_Flux occupied.
Who was this polar opposite, this final vestige of resistance against the Fellowship NoThRoG sharp-shooting devil?
Why, none other than Gaston_Bonhomme, of course.
Even at first glance, Acid_Flux was already flying over to him, forgetting anyone else. “Your time’s about up, Canuck!”
Gaston grinned.
“Whatever!”
Acid’s jaw dropped, and each began screaming at the other, a furious verbal assault everyone soon learned to ignore.
Another being emerged on the side of the demons, StarkTheBloody. He was quite bloody, indeed. Yep. That’s about it. He got into some kind of fistfight with Ranzadule, who managed to dispatch of him with minimal effort. Silly Stark.
*
The ranks were thinning, albeit slowly, as the number of Freeks never seemed to really drop. There may’ve simply been too many, thousands upon thousands up against a hearty few leading a few hundred dwarves and Devs left. Even with the blue skies above and the cruel slippery ground beginning to dry, the side of Anything was finding little left to root for.
Hope, a concept that kept returning to their minds, so elusive, so hidden.
And when Reject3016 was kicked out of the Mod Lounge, all hope seemed to be ground into virtual oblivion. He had been designated a toxin, a virus, a force that not even GreenDestiny could keep under control. No lock could hold him, as if his very purpose was to kick up trouble and irritate everyone in Lore.
So GD did the next best thing and flung him into the side of the Fellowship. Once there, among the dwarves and Devs, he went crazy, jibbering and jabbering and flip flap flackering all over the place. The very sound of his mania drove many of the weaker dwarves to cover their ears and scream in misery.
DarkGuardian rolled his eyes, recognizing Reject for the true weakness among strength. He calmly strode up to the whirling vortex of chaos, ignoring its bantering bashing mish-mashing snickering tickering craptacular load of empty useless mindless bumbling rumbling futile rambling.
With a mighty stroke, he drove the toxic one into the advancing horse of Freeks, and cheered his brethren on as the Freeks began screaming, trying desperately to pike the punk to death.
*
Archer’s eyelids were heavy, cemented shut. His breathing began to slow, as if to stop forever.
“Hey! Wake up, Archer! The Lakers are losing!”
Archer blinked, looking around.
“It’s me, slick! Your right hand, remember? Pacers are kicking your butt, dude.”
Archer growled, the sound more like a gentle purr now.
“Kobe’s a filthy rapist, Shaq’s a dumb hack who doesn’t have a jumper, and Karl’s older than dirt!”
Archer shook his head, allowing a layer of dirt to dribble off his tongue.
“They’ve never won a championship and never will! Next season they’ll go 0-82! Kobe couldn’t win a game of one-on-one against my grandma! Or even Joe Wolf! Shaq the best center of all-time? Yeah, maybe behind a few thousand other guys! Kevin Duckworth would dunk circles around him! Comparing him with Kareem? That’s like putting my shoe next to a Hummer…”
Archer frowned, as slick continued urging him on, trying anything he could to get him to move.
*
“KILL HIM!! TAKE HIM DOWN!!!”
The Free Kingdoms were frantic, the troops slowly succumbing one by one to the madness that was Reject3016.
Then, miraculously, Reject dropped, wailing in pain, a bolt sticking out of his back. A couple seconds later brought another bolt, this one right through his temple, the toxin never rising again.
Somewhere, yewbow was grinning, scanning the area for any other need of his services as the superstar archer he was.
Somehow, his gaze fell on Stormcrow, nearly a mile away. Our elf fired his own shot, yewbow returning in kind, his arrow splintering Stormcrow’s in mid-air.
The Fellowship member sighed, drawing a new arrow, this time finding some temporary cover. He quickly went to work, using a small carving knife to inscribe coding into the projectile, then popping up from his cover and firing again.
This time, the arrow actually dodged everything in its path, and when yewbow jumped out of the way, it decided to perform a wide arc, coming back and hitting yewbow’s cranium with such force as to nearly rip his facial structure off with it.
Master Stormcrow grinned in triumph.
*
Morghen walked over onto the hill and sat, finding it to be, indeed, a rather nice view of things.
ShadowcatX and Matrim exchanged a glance, shrugging, Matrim electing to perform the greeting ritual.
“So, uh, who are you?” “I’m Morghen, the all-purpose lich for every occasion. You two?” “I’m Matrim, the nonchalant intellect.” “And I’m ShadowcatX, identity disorder goody-goody.” “Goody-goody?” “Well, I didn’t get stuck in one of the levels of Hell like everyone else did.” “Ah.” “Yeah.”
An awkward silence followed. Matrim tried to focus on the battle, but it was such a blur, and all so familiar by now. Shadowcat twiddled his thumbs. Morghen felt a bit better than before, but still considered leaving. He sighed and instead elected to have another go at conversation.
“So, what do you two think of this big battle and everything?” “Matrim?” “Oh, I don’t know… seems too big for us to comprehend. Must be really important. I wonder what’s at stake?” “Yeah, it’s like half the forums are at war. Over what?” “And why the Devs and dwarves against NoThRoGs and elves?” “And also the Fellowship against the mercenaries.” “Oh?” “Yes, the little side battles. Duels, really, quite entertaining. You haven’t noticed?” “Oh, like Archer and Ter-Soth over there?” “Ah, yes. Poor Archer.” “I’m not so sure.” “Ah?” “We’ll see.” “Hm. Right.” “I wish I could hear what they’re saying. Bet it’s interesting, and would explain a lot.” “Yeah. Same for Acid and Gaston.” “Who?” “Gaston Bonhomme, the Canuck.” “Like Haplo?” “Precisely.” “Who?” “Castle hermit.” “Oh. Right. And who’s-” “That’s YOYOY.” “I see.” “Goofy chap.” “Quite.” “Writer, leader of the Conspiracy of Lightheartedness. Has a nice signature, too.” “Not anymore.” “He changed it?” “No, I mean, he’s no longer the leader of the Conspiracy.” “Really?” “Yeah, Drex does that now.” ”... Who?” “That dwarfish elf down there.” “Really?” ”... Yes, really.” “Who’s all in the Fellowship?” “Not sure.” “What?” “Apparently it’s changed of late.” “Really?” “Yeah. New recruits I guess. Like ShadowStar.” “Ah. But I see they still fight Archer, heh.” “What?” “Over there, you know, Ter-Soth?” “Oh, no, he’s quite on the other side.” “Excuse me?” “Yeah, Archer’s a Fellowship guy now, I think.” ”... I’ll never understand those Anythingers.” “Heh, I know what you mean.” “Hey, they’re not so bad.” “Oh hush.” “No, really, they aren’t. And you know it.” “Fine. Whatever.” “So much death.” ”... huh?” “Look. Fellowship members are dying. I always thought they were invincible and stuff.” “Who’s dead?!?” “Advocate, that big penguin carcass over there. I believe a couple of the Freeks are eating it.” “Ew.” “I thought you said members, as in plural…?” “Ah, yes, well, now look over-” “Oh. Wow.” “Yeah.”
Another uncomfortable silence. Shadowcat’s foot itched, and he didn’t even dare to scratch it. It was really bugging him, too. Matrim silently wondered if he’d prefer being alone at the moment. Morghen just sat, wondering of his own insecurity.
“Hey, who wants to hear a joke?”
*
Sure enough, slick’s spurring had worked, Archer’s adrenaline coursing through his veins just enough to get him up and moving. He began jogging toward the Lounge gate, small now, but still open.
Ter-Soth ran between the two.
“Will you ever learn?”
Archer grabbed Ter-Soth and tossed him aside, Ter-Soth recovering instantly and tackling the trog back to the ground.
“Give up already!” “Never!”
*
Something rose from the blood-scarred field of carnage. Something dark, evil, wispy, unworldly. It hovered over the thousands of dead NoThRoG and elves, nodding to itself, considering all. It twirled its scythe fancily in its hand.
Then graveghoul started to laugh. Never a good thing. The very sound pierces your flesh and affects your very soul, as is apparently the intent, as the foes began rising…
DarkGuardian froze, leader of the Anything allied troops, dumbfounded as he then found his soldiers outnumbered a couple hundred to one.
He sighed, hands blistered from wielding his massive hammer for hours. But he had no choice but to continue the fight…
*
Archer glanced back, noting the rising of the fallen adversaries. He groaned, retrieving JWalker’s orb from his holdings and smashing it to pieces over Ter-Soth’s head.
*
As the orb shattered, an ethereal explosion resounded from it, a rifting shockwave passing through all around. There was no noise, in fact, it seemed to silence all noise altogether. Everyone, even the undead hordes, now paused to see what would happen next, knowing it was something big.
The blue skies became gray again, then darkening further, but this time not from any cloud. A vast construction was now overhead, deeply humming and thrumming as it passed awe-inspiringly through the cloud cover, casting the sky aside like a child’s plaything.
It settled over the war site, countless millions of lights and protrusions visible on its exterior. Given its unimaginable size, it was impossible to estimate just how close or how far away it was. Then a loud whistle ripped through the air, before the protrusions activated.
Auto-cannons began blasting away with flawless precision, chopping the undead into a dozen pieces before they knew they were even being fired at. Freeks found their skulls bursting at the seams. Selective-targeting bombs were dropped, their electric explosions only affecting those opposed to Anything, cackling blue energy tearing through the enemy forces. Napalm incinerated and rockets plummeted, as the end of the world seemed at hand.
Barely a minute later, all was silent again, excepting for that ungodly humming in the heavens. Craters abounded, fires were lit, and no longer could you take a step without crushing the bones and flesh of those former foes.
The craft left, but not before beaming graveghoul aboard.
The forces for the realm of Anything, after a moment of shock, cheered. They raised their arms, shaking their weapons, thumping their chests and crying out in utter exaltation.
All eyes turned to Ter-Soth, the one barrier left.
*
ShadowcatX shrugged, Matrim chuckling before he spoke in return.
“Oh, I’m apparently a member of the Conspiracy of Lightheartedness now.” “Really?” “Yep.” “Wow.”
*
Drexlin cried tears of joy, amazed that he was still alive, and mostly unscathed.
A strange hooded being came up to him from behind, panting, nearly collapsing from exhaustion.
“Drex… finally… thought I’d… tell you… you left this… back at the castle…”
Haplo held up a dirty mug, the tavern master frowning.
“What? Did I come at a bad time?”
*
Archer stood grimly, the last vestiges of the Anything offensive behind him. All they needed to do was occupy Ter-Soth, give Archer the window of opportunity to slip into the Mod Lounge and pursue GreenDestiny further.
The troglodyte Fellowship leader held a hand up to his mouth and coughed, noting the blood specks now adorning his hand. “That’s really sick, man…” slick uttered.
Ranzadule grinned at DarkGuardian, who was spinning his manly mallet in hand, choosing the speak first.
“I don’t think you can hold us all back, boy scout.” The being of light and reason shook his head. “I don’t have to. You’re all about to die anyway.”
DarkGuardian narrowed his vision, then wide-eyed as he realized to what Ter-Soth was referring.
Fury_of_hate and chaosnake were emerging from the Mod portal. The Elite Dark Horsemen themselves. The remaining Deverenian and dwarven troops about crapped their pants in recognition.
The two slayers of renown giggled, fury turning to snake. “I’ll take the Devs, you take the stunties?” Chaosnake just nodded, before both leapt forth with a frightening roar, drawing swords.
It was useless. Even if the two were now highly outnumbered, it didn’t matter. They sliced through the troops like julienne fries, a hot knife through butter, a bloodthirsty lawnmower, or a bullet through paper, or something equally fitting.
Seriously though, it was sickening. It was purely sport for them, no effort required at all, just sheer fun as they would insist on chopping a limb or two off but leaving the victim alive for later, like a snack. Yes, a buffet for them, an all-you-can-kill deal unmatched anywhere else.
The Fellowship tried to intervene, tried to get through the ranks and challenge the two Horsemen themselves, but felt both pride and revulsion as their lesser troops were too busy doing it themselves. Even against the backdrop of hopelessness, here were dwarves rushing forward and futilely swinging axes, Deverenian knights finding confidence in their armor, regardless of weakness.
Ranzadule, completely crazy by now, ran and tackled chaosnake to the ground, rolling with him for a bit, then running away like a sissy girl, the Dark one wondering if he should even bother giving chase.
That moment alone bought maybe, oh, eight seconds of time.
Stormcrow tried firing at them, only to find that they were quite capable of catching arrows in their teeth. Then eating the arrows, pointed teeth gnawing at them like the ferocious animals they were.
Fury decided for a change of pace, drawing his Mod sword. The Fellowship had forgotten his status as mercenary Mod… perhaps if General_Lund has been the first Fellowship representative… maybe if they’d gone about this in another manner…
It was too late. They could only hope Archer was faring well with Ter-Soth.
*
“We’re done here, old friend.”
The Lounge door closed a few yards behind Ter-Soth, Archer still determined, taking a step forward.
“You’re going to have to kill me, boy.”
Ter-Soth rolled his head to and fro, his neck cracking like Agent Smi- like a really macho guy.
“My pleasure.”
The two scowled, running towards each other, then freezing.
“No! Stop!”
They turned to the source of the call, finding a Super Stormwraith, a Deverenian Saint, a newly cool Ghed-Jennar, standing near in all his über glory. They frowned, each unsure of what this meant, waiting for their answer.
“I…”
Ghed looked back and forth between them. On the one hand, he desperately wanted to kill Archer. The honor alone would boost him into the upper echelons of Lore, perhaps. On the other, he wanted to save Anything, the one thing keeping the dark part of his soul repressed. His mind struggled with a thousand thought processes, finding none adequate, none perfectly fitting.
He slipped out the mystical golden acorn, tossing it up in his hand, the artifact given to him by squirrel. He nodded, figuring he’d let fate decide. Consume it? No, even better.
“Archer, quick, eat this!!”
He chucked the nut towards the trog, who caught it and looked at it funny, the sheer golden aura of it unnerving him.
“Trust me!”
Archer shrugged, thinking perhaps Ghed had a change of heart. Besides, nothing this golden could hurt-
He began coughing uncontrollably, the bitter taste remaining in his mouth long after he’d swallowed, his vision going blurry as he dropped to the ground, clutching his throat and pounding his chest desperately.
Ter-Soth sneered at Ghed.
“You fool! He was mine! It was inevitable!”
The former boy scout screamed in dismay as he tried to tackle Ghed, passing right through him, Jennar laughing, only prodding Ter-Soth further. Ghed Jennar drew his sword, and the two fought, a comical affair consisting of one combatant who couldn’t be touched most of the time, the other an invincible juggernaut.
Archer managed to get the rest of the acorn down, chuckling to himself. Perhaps this would work after all.
The nut hadn’t hurt him at all, he was just choking a bit. Turns out it was actually giving him strength, once the acrid taste left his tongue, healing his wounds as he stood. Renewal. Sweet, sweet regeneration.
He guessed that a bit of Anything essence was stored within the acorn. Had anyone else taken of it, maybe certain death. Archer? Fate smiled at the result.
He ran up to the Lounge gate, despairingly pounding at it. “No!” He punched it, his knuckled breaking open, the pain shooting up his forearm. “No, it can’t be…” He ground his teeth, clawing at the impenetrable portal.
*
Stormcrow finished carving the code into the arrow. This one had taken him a while, he guessed maybe fifteen minutes, not counting the double-checking along the way. He sighed heavily, gulping at this one shot.
“Todd’s going to kill me…”
He took aim, more carefully than he’d ever bothered before, and fired.
*
Archer’s body jumped in startled surprise. Something had hit the Moderator’s Lounge door. A bolt was now stuck in the invincible barrier. He stared at it in wonder.
The bolt then actually dissolved itself into the gate, as the very construction rippled, groaning mechanically, then snapping open in several sections, cracked. It then collapsed on itself, the Mod Lounge open for anyone to enter.
Archer didn’t bother with turning back to acknowledge Stormcrow, rushing in with no abandon.
*
Jennar and squirrel stood at the window, sharing the binoculars. Neither was mentioning what they had just witnessed, their acorn shifting consequences much further than they had intended. They finally made eye contact, Jennar speaking first.
“Well, I certainly didn’t see that coming.” “Nope… you didn’t.”
Squirrel smiled, trying to hold back the laughter, but it was futile, as they both let loose, maniacally giggling atop the infinitely tall tower.
*
Jscifert and LordAmon cast their disguises aside, no longer appearing to all as just another ordinary equivalent of their faction. They then drew their Mod swords, bravely stepping ahead of their representatives to challenge Fury Of Hate and Chaosnake.
The Dark Horsemen chuckled, eager for something a little more like a challenge.
The two courageous beings turned back for but a moment, urging their factional footmen back.
This was their fight. No more innocent would be lost. It was no longer necessary. It’d all be over soon anyway.
Swords clashed, their metallic contact ringing through the air.
The two on the side of Anything only hoped they had saved a handful of lives, further hoping Archer would hurry up. They were prepared for death, but only if necessary for their kin.
They parried and riposted, careful, conservative, in stark contrast to the blitzkrieg whirlwind of the mercs.
*
Archer watched his step, avoiding all the dead threads that wove through the air in every direction. He looked around, hastily trying to find GreenDestiny. If the dirty ‘throg had assumed victory, surely he wouldn’t have gone far to hide. He passed a jacuzzi, only slightly tempted.
Sure enough, there he was, GD himself, sitting in a dark corner of the Lounge.
“Well, well, well… you made it. All my minions, and it wasn’t enough to crush the hopes of you Anythingers. I could vomit. I’ll have to do this myself, I guess.” The NoThRoG rose, drawing a sharpened Mod sword. “Save your breath, Greenie. You forget where we are. You can’t drive me out of here willingly. Only Todd can force something out of the Mod Lounge.”
The trog grinned, hoping he was correct in his reasoning. GreenDestiny pondered the statement for a moment, then chuckled.
“So be it, Archer. So be it.”
Archer frowned, opening his mouth to reply, but he blinked in the process.
*
When he opened his eyes, he was nearly blinded by the brightness, a static white of sterile void.
© Eric Bailey