What is dead may never die
Staelon fiddled with the augments around his neck, he had had them for years now, ever since that accident... His friend... Geod was not coming back. He was dead. and the dreams of the northern alliance were dead along with him. He had a good life now. A place to call home, people to call friends, and a world, at peace with itself.
Staelon got up, dusted off the dust that had settled on his desk and got ready for bed. When he was about to lie down though, he heard a commotion outside. It sounded as if there was an inn fight going on, but Staelon did not live anywhere near the inn. It was on the other side of town!
Staelon stood up, having a bit of trouble with his augments, and causing a cacophony of speaks as the bronze and brass joints rubbed up against eachother.
"baalzamon curse these foul things" said Staelon. HE had no fear naming the dark one anymore. He was in a different land, and felt as though the very fabric of time wove itself differently here.
Staelon grabbed his spear and headed outside, and immediatly he fell to the ground, there... standing in front of him... was a mechananguard. One of the rank he used to command. Dressed in Mithril armor that seemed to glow even in places where natural light was non-existent, with the darkest blue cloaks that never seemed to flap in the wind. people thought of the mechananguard as beings hanging on the edge of the world, but Staelon knew exactly who he was, in his shock he had forgotten to speak to the man standing there. He was now staring down at Staelon with a grin on his face,
"come brother, there is much to discuss"
The Mechananguard handed over a piece of stone, with a rune etched in it that he had not seen since the day his best friend died.
"No... do not lie to me brother. He died long ago."
PART 2!
((fast forward a couple of days for this.))
Maltok's breathing came in rasps, he was now hiding in a dark alley, the cool cobblestones gave his neck a chill that was sent down his back and Maltok wondered if it was really the cool stones, or the fact that he was being hunted. He got up, slipped on his warders cloak, and walked into building he had been laying up against.
It was instantaneous, the swords flew from the blackness and, with accuracy that could not have been human, pinned him to the wall. He screamed then, not a scream of fear, but of desperation. he knew he would not leave this place alive unless he gave his masters away. Maltok heard a voice, not one that was speaking out into the world, but one that was speaking into his very mind.
"What do you hide! Why has the rune not been given to us like we commanded!"
"He is no true thief." said the other voice, "We should gut him now, he doesn't even know who he is hunting! he has been LYING!" the last word hung in Maltoks mind, and without wasting another breath, he spoke,
"it was the mech! the man with the shining eyes, and that damned cloak! you'd swear the thing could change to the colors behind him! He had someone with him as well... an elf! yes that's it!"
The man stepped out of the shadows, and Maltok suddenly felt a searing pain in his eyes, he shut them tight and thought that his eyeballs would still pop out of his head. He heard a voice, similar to the one in his mind, but tainted. Almost mechanical. It was speaking into the world now.
"Baalzamon curse him! I knew he was working for them. It's a wonder he didn't get back to his precious king in time to tell him." Staelon lifted his hood. he had more augments then he had had a few days ago, the disease was speading. He knew that soon... he would be gone...
A knife potruded from the blackness, a slightly curved blade with vines running up the hilt.
"stop! when revenge is sweet and I have picked it... only then does he has my permission to die."
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