Life has been Crazy, starting to get into writing a bit again, so here is a bit of something im working on. should be more to come
As always feedback is welcome, be honest.
{WARNING: violence, strong language
“Damn you” Vilkas screamed as he drove the point of his sword into Gourey’s right side, just below the ribs. The tip of the sword cutting through the vest, metal plating, and shirt below to dig into an old scar, a scar with a matching mate just under Gourey’s left arm. The set of scars were once made by Vilkas long ago.
“You are mad.” Gourey growled back against the pain in his side.
“You have found out how to go back. You are leaving, and you will be taking me with you.” Vilkas dug his sword in just a little further. “Now! Get us out of here!” Vilkas screamed.
“I don’t know how! Why do you think I’m even still here!” Gourey yelled back at Vilkas, and struggled to unpin his hands again unsuccessfully. “Though the world then would be better without you, perhaps my life is worth less then who ever you’d manage to kill there assassin.”
“Oh so noble, god slayer. Who knew you could be so selfless. After you nearly single-handedly destroyed the world. I think you still care more about yourself then the others back then.” Vilkas slowly pulled his sword back then snapped it up just under Gourey’s chin. “Now, take us home.” Vilkas’ voice was cold and flat. Though it barely held together. Vilkas was losing it, he was trapped in a time not his own, in a place he didn’t understand or wish to. He wanted to get home and this man here was the only one who could help.
“The years have changed me I guess.” Gourey tilted his head just enough to look away from the milky white, dead looking eyes, of the man above him. Looking back over the edge of the cliff he decided to give up, he may find a way to fit in here. He felt the normal burn in his right hand as he enacted magic. He drew upon everything he could find, which was close to none in this time. He planned to blast the small gem and shard from his hand over the cliff.
A blinding flash emitted from the gem then was gone, as well as the adventurer and assassin.
Chapter 1
To find a place in a new land
Vilkas hit the ground heavy, his head fuzzy, but the air was fresh and there was quiet in the air. Before there was a constant buzz and hum of the dreadful science man had made. Here there was none of that, just blissful quiet.
Vilkas slowly got up and sheathed his sword. Looking over his shoulder he watched Gourey get to his feet as well.
“You can’t feel it, but the air is full of magic here.” Gourey breathed deep, seeming to grow in stature for a breath moment. “This isn’t our time…” Gourey looked to Vilkas, his eyes a dull gold. Gourey placed a hand on the hilt of the sword at his right hip.
Vilkas slowly started to circle Gourey, ready to explode into action. Then Gourey was gone. Vilkas scanned the area, ready for action, but nothing was in the area. This wasn’t Gourey’s style. Then man appeared before Vilkas.
The man was tall and slender. Dressed in dark ordinary clothes. Black shirt, black pants with no shoes. The man’s hair was raven black, and fell halfway down his back. He looked sickly, was as pale as Vilkas, with a face that looked more of just a skull with skin still on it. The man seemed to emit a aura of death about his presence, and the only thing that seemed lively about this man was a single white flower tucked behind his left ear.
Vilkas’ sword flashed free of its sheath, seeming to really just appear in his hand.
“Hold” The man spoke softly, and raised a single white hand. “I am a friend.”
“Unlikely.” Vilkas circled around the man. Looking for an easy opening, the man didn’t seem to be armed at all, or be ready for a attack at all. Vilkas was still cautious though.
“Friend, do not fear. I have no Ill will toward you. I’m glad to see you here and in one piece, though of course I knew you would be fine. I’m glad to see your neck healed well.”
Vilkas’ hand went to his throat, to a scar just over an inch long. The wound was caused when Gourey had impaled him through the throat, and wove a death curse upon him. Of course with Vilkas’ odd condition, the curse didn’t effect him really, instead the magic seemed to really kill everything around him, even saving his body from decay. When magic faded Vilkas found himself alive and able to break free. Circumstances were strange about what had happened, but Vilkas figured it was just good luck. Yet with this man’s odd comment, his strange appearance, Vilkas was starting to think it wasn’t just good luck.
“So you have put it together.” The man gave a wicked smile.
“The price.” His voice was calm and flat, bordering on furious. Slowly sheathing his sword Vilkas stood straight up into a more comfortable stance. “Nothing is free in this world.”
The man’s smile grew even wider, showing the edges of wicked edged teeth bordering on being fangs. “Exactly. Don’t worry of the price though, its something you pay back later. Just live, do what you will. I will collect your debt in quite some time from now. Remember you have a friend in a very… low place.” With no warning he was gone.
Vilkas starred at the ground where the man was standing, a dead circle had formed where the man stood.
Vilkas took a quick stock of the area around him. Mountains to the south, river to the East, and the plain he standing in continued towards both the south and west. It was a plain Vilkas was familiar with, the only real question was how him an Gourey had ended up there. They should have only traveled through time, not in any real direction. Something he figured he would think of later. For now he checked all his gear again, then started walking, following the river. If the land still held the same shape it had in his original time, then Vilkas was sure he would run across a city soon, maybe only a day or two worth of walking.
Vilkas followed the river pretty closely, preferring to keep it within sight rather then trying to cut a straight path from bend to bend. As he walked he thought of the many things he was going to have to do once he found a city. His trade was a dark thing, and he liked it to happen in the dark as well. Trying to find the proper contacts was always the first challenge. He had enough gear on him to carry out a few simple jobs, but if he fell into anything to elaborate he would have to find a supplier as well. Safe houses would have to be set up someday as well.
Vilkas stopped walking as he came across an oddly colored plant. Letting out a sigh he continued on. The plant was foreign to him, yet it looked like it may have been poisonous. Yet without any knowledge of it, its side effects, or how careful you needed to be with it. Vilkas figured it wasn’t worth the trouble. After all it could be a completely harmless plant.
This time seemed similar to the one he had been ripped from. Though similar could also be a long ways from what he knew. Having new species of plants and animals in the world could mean that his old poisons could no longer be acquired. Perhaps poisons were now useless if some kind of miracle cure-all plant had been found. Vilkas tried to push that thought from his head. It was an impossibility after all. His poisons were made to have special side effects that carried no cure, and doubtfully anyone would search for a cure for something that hadn’t been active in the world for possibly hundreds of years.
Vilkas was always cautious, always calculating though. He was determined to make this time as best as he could make it for himself. He would make the name Vilkas feared, all would know him, but all would claim him just a ghost story. As it was before, as it would be now.
The days passed slowly without much change in the area. Vilkas walked through the grasslands that surrounded the winding river. He saw no other travelers. Yet close to nightfall of the second day Vilkas came within sight of a road. His hopes lifted with the sight, knowing that would mean something was close by. He moved from the wild terrain and out onto the dirt road. It was a hard packed road containing wagon wheel ruts. Just seeing the obvious sign of wagons made this all the better. No more dealing with the noise and speed of the metal shells people of the future traveled in. Vilkas walked the road late into the light. As the sky began to lighten with the rising of the sun Vilkas caught the far off glow of lights of some sort. There would be no sleep tonight or the next day. He was going to enter the city the next night.
The following evening Vilkas approached the city. It was a great walled city. Yet from the outside Vilkas could not make out much of the cities lay. He approached the wall slowly, keeping to the shadows. He walked moved along the wall scouting for any additional guards or any easier ways into the city. After a few hours of slow surveillance Vilkas decided that he found enough of an opening to get by. Guards moved along the wall between guard houses places every hundred yards or so. No Guard was always vigilant though, and being a master of stealth didn’t hurt ones chances either. Over confidence did though. So even though he trusted his abilities to get him out of any tough situation, he never put himself into a position that forced his hand.
Vilkas placed a hand to the wall, the tips of his fingers finding holds that eyes could not see. In wearing no boots, only his light wraps, made it so his feet could follow the same holds. He scaled the wall like it was a ladder, moving easily and quickly. His skin was pale, ghost white, so it nearly glowed in the faintest of lights. To balance this he dressed blacks, and dark grays. His arms to the elbow, and legs almost to his knees, were in tight black wraps. His pants were a soft fabric bound tight at his ankles, yet loose enough everywhere to not restrict his movements in anyway. His shirt and vest where a blend of colors, from black to just a grey. The vest though held many pockets an straps, holding many of the deadly items of Vilas’s trade. Throwing darts dipped in a special poison, wire for climbing or strangulation, smoke bombs, and two metal rods strapped to the back that coursed with a powerful electrical current. His belt held a sword in a dull black sheath, and a dagger with a black blade tucked into the other side. His face was hidden under a a black mask that only left his eyes visible. Over this he had a black cloak draped over himself. As he climbed the cloak hung loose about him, it was tattered and seemed likely to fall apart. Each move he made the cloak move ever so slightly, making it appear as though a formless shadow was creeping up the wall.
Reaching the top Vilkas held himself just below the edge of the walkways and listened to the metal boots of the guard as he patrolled by. Just as the boots moved by Vilkas went up an over in an instant, the guard not even turning to look at something from the corner of his eye.
One the other side of the wall a wraith dropped down into the city streets. Walking with the surefootedness of a man with nothing to fear. Vilkas undid his mask and pulled it down around his neck, letting his white hair free to fall, stopping just above his pale eyes. Vilkas walked easily through the streets, pass inns, bars, whorehouses. He walked through the city streets filled with murderers, up an coming assassins. Streets that smelled of death, waste. This is where the beggars lived, orphans, and all the misfortunate. Crime was apart of everyday life here. Vilkas smiled and walked through, like a man coming home after being gone for far to long.
Vilkas moved about easily. From one street to the next, down alleys, and through the dark places where others avoided as they walked through the day.
His eyes scanned the walls of the buildings as he passed. His eyes watched every person he passed. He looked for any sign of organization, for the sign of a guild house or anything resembling order. Yet everywhere he looked there was no sign of organization anywhere.
Vilkas hunched himself over some, then pulled the deep hood of
his cloak over his head, a few moments later he looked just as an old helpless man. He needed to find some kind of crime web, some way to get into the organization that held this cities criminals in check. Every city he had been in before had one, even throughout different times he had found the organizations in all shapes an sizes. He knew where to look, how to draw them out, but so far there was no luck.
Down one dark alley though a man stepped out in front of Vilkas. Finally this was it, Vilkas thought to himself.
“This isn’t the kind of place for an old man. The enforcers don’t care what your age, they’ll beat you all the same.”
Vilkas was taken back by this, was this man really concerned about his well being? Obviously this disguise wouldn’t help him anymore anyways, so Vilkas stood back to his full height and flipped the hood back. Scanning for any other men about he spoke. “Actually I was looking for trouble.” Vilkas’ harsh voice was quiet, yet carried easily in the dark cold.
The man took a step back, hand going to his side. “An agent of
Vexum?”
Vilkas was in motion before the man had finished his speaking. Lightning fast he was on the man. One hand grabbed the man throat, while the other grabbed the wrist of the arm reaching for a weapon. Next he slammed the man in one o the alley walls, holding him a few inches of the ground. It almost looked comical since the man easily outweighed Vilkas by fifty pounds. Yet to the man his eyes were wide in fear as he felt the cold fingers of this man digging into his throat like talons.
Vilkas spoke even quieter now, sensing this was a sensitive
subject to be talked about. “Agent for who?”
“Vexum, you are in his capital city, this is the god realm of Vexum” The man spoke quickly, afraid for his own life. Afraid this man was mentally unstable.
“God realm?” Vilkas lower the man down, then spun him around slamming him face first into the wall. Looped into the back of the mans belt was an old rusted knife. Vilkas quickly relieved the man of the weapon, and threw it down the alley. “Now, I need some answers about quite a few things… I’m new to this area and need a guide. Thank you for being so charitable as to offer help.” Vilkas stepped back from the man, drawing his sword as he did so.
The man turned slowly around, blood running from his noise. Apparently Vilkas had shoved him a little harder then he had thought, but no worries. When the man saw the sword in Vilkas’ hand he went pale. “Where did you get that? We are all dead if you are seen with that!”
Vilkas was growing very tired of this man’s cowardness, something was seriously wrong in this city. Vilkas then just touched the tip of the sword to the man’s stomach. “Then I guess you better find us somewhere safe to talk shouldn’t you?” Vilkas didn’t leave any room to negotiate in his voice.
The man nodded slowly, still looking at the sword as though it was cursed, or containing some kind of plague.
Vilkas moved his sword down to his side and under his cloak, but left it drawn. “After you then.”
The man slowly started to walk out of the alley and back to the street, obviously in some kind of shock. Vilkas thought about this as they walked. In such a place being threatened with death shouldn’t be such a rare thing, and obviously fear of this lord Vexum was commonplace. Yet being threatened by another man seemed to have this man nearly falling apart. What was wrong with this city? This should be commonplace.
After a few quick turns and side roads the two cam to a small building nestled in along rows of others. It wasn’t shabby yet at the same time it was a palace either. It was much nicer then what Vilkas had thought it would be though. As the man opened the door and walked in Vilkas followed close behind, not wanting to be in the open any longer.
“What are you thinking? You must be a agent of Vexum, what do you want with me, I haven’t don’t anything wrong.” The man was visibly shaking now, and seemed on the verge of collapsing.
Vilkas studied the man with cold eyes, then after figuring the man wasn’t a threat he inspected the building around him. It was well cleaned and taken care of, though the walls were all bare, almost no furnishings and the entrance way let you see the three rooms of the house. Straight ahead was a bedroom it seemed, only right by the door was the only spot people could hide, unlikely though. Left was what appeared a cooking area, though few utensils, most of which wouldn’t make very good weapons. Right was a bathroom with indoor plumbing, something that took Vilkas by surprise.
“This place seems nice, yet I don’t see anything worthwhile in
here. How do you afford this yet nothing to go in it?” Vilkas looked back into the back room, seeing the bed was just a straw mat.
The man slowly sank down to the floor. “Why, what do you have to gain? I haven’t done anything, broken any of the laws.”
“What are you talking about? You are loosing it, relax.”
“You don’t make any sense… You don’t act like an agent, but no one else would do this. Men must stay together, first is the lord then the bound…” The man suddenly jumped to his feet and started scrambling away from Vilkas. “You are part of the free men aren’t you? Why can’t you just leave us alone, all you do is ruin our lives”
“Ok, I don’t know what your talking about, care to fill me in?” Vilkas tightened his grip on the sword still unsheathed under his cloak, something didn’t feel right.
“Lies, you will not play on our pity any more.” Then the man pulled out a small amulet with a strange rune symbol carved on it. The next moment three armed men appeared, on from each room.
The men were draped in black shadows, wearing darkened chain mail beneath their dark cloaks. With swords in their hands they slowly advanced on Vilkas.
Vilkas didn’t know by what magic they came in by, but he knew it was magical transportation to get here. He thought of breaking for the door behind him, but something said that wasn’t the best idea. Instead he drew his dagger with his left hand and brought his sword in front of him with his right.
“Raising weapons against one of the shadowed ones is the same as raising a weapon against the lord Vexum.” One of the shadows spoke, though it could have been all of them. The voice resonated off the walls, and didn’t seem to come from any one place.
Then everyone burst into motion at the same time. The three men surrounding Vilkas all thrusted their swords at Vilkas’ middle at the same time.
Vilkas had almost no room to move, he was fighting with the wall just off his back. He snapped his sword up to the right , deflecting the sword at his right into the one straight ahead. His left hand worked his dagger up fast to catch the sword on his left to knock that sword towards the center as well. He wasn’t going to let this fight be just defending himself, that was just a losing battle in this kind of circumstance.
Vilkas pulled his sword back, letting the blade fall down towards his right shoulder, then thrusted it straight right to catch that man in the throat. His attack was blocked though as the man, with seemingly supernatural speed, brought his sword back to hit the thrust out wide.
The other two came in again with low thrusts.
Vilkas pulled his dagger hand back, catching the left side sword and pulling it back so it went behind him. Then turned his body slightly to the left, the sword coming straight in seemed to glance off his stomach as it passed by. Vilkas was thankful then that he skill wore the light armor beneath his clothes. It wasn’t enough to stop an attack, but with just the right movement it could allow a poor placed blow to glance away.
To counter Vilkas brought his sword back with a straight ahead thrust for the man in front of him. Knowing this man wouldn’t be able to get his sword back in time to stop the attack. The man to his left seem to know this as well though and blocked the thrust for his companion as the man to the right thrusted again for Vilkas’ throat.
The narrow hallway, which was easily filled by the three men trying to kill Vilkas made slashing attacks almost impossible. It also made any acrobatic maneuvers nearly impossible, at least for most normal men.
Vilkas spun to the right, ducking under the attack. He continued the rotation though jumping with a spinning kick that he landed on the side of the left man’s head, followed quickly by a second as his left foot came by.
Landing on his feet Vilkas continued to move, keeping his momentum moving forward. His dagger snaked up under the next man’s raised sword, at the same time his sword cut across the last man’s throat. The man stuck with the dagger stumbled back from Vilkas. Holding his wounded stomach with both hands as he watch in horror as black blood poured out.
The man on the floor behind the shadowed men was now crawling backwards, eyes wide in terror. As he hit a wall he slowly started to ease up to a standing position hoping to make a run for it. Though as he placed a hand on the wall to help himself up Vilkas snapped his dagger over sticking the man’s hand to the wall. The man starred at the black metal of the dagger for a moment, in shock an not feeling pain, but soon he was sagging back to his knees as intense pain washed over him.
“You aren’t thinking about leaving are you?” Vilkas stepped over to the man who was laying on the floor but still very much alive. “All I wanted was for you to answer a few simple questions. Then you would have been free to go, but now…” Vilkas dispatched the man on the floor with a quick flick of his sword, his eyes never leaving the man he pinned to the wall.
“Please, you don’t have to kill me, I wont say anything. Please. Just let me go.”
“Vilkas let out a small chuckle at that. “You don’t seem to understand.” Vilkas cleaned off his sword then re sheathed it as he slowly made his way over to the man. “You are already dead.”
The man was hit by another wave of nauseating pain. His head dropped for a moment, his eyes catching the small pool of blood at the base of the wall, his blood, black blood. Then his eyes unfocused and he was gone.
Vilkas grabbed the hilt of his dagger and wrenched it from the wall. To his surprise the wood of the house was just a thin covering for stone underneath. This was odd, and threw a wrench into his plans of burning the house to create a diversion to get away.
He sheathed the dagger and turned back to the three bodies of the other men. Perhaps taking a disguise would help here. He understood now, why the man had thought him one of Vexum’s agents. These men dressed in similar dark colors, but the weapons were different and they wore real armor under their cloaks. Then the cloaks, weapons, and armor seemed to melt to shadows and vanish, leaving only three naked bodies on the floor. Apparently the equipment was bound to their life as well.
With no good options Vilkas walked to the door and pressed a ear to it lightly, as he thought hear the faint rustle of men moving about the front of the house. So now he was trapped inside without a clear means of escape, this night was just getting better and better.
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