The Heroes Who Would Oppose a King

WhiteKnight777

Although you were supreme amongst the Lords of Blood, Marialta had been nearly Fianna’s equal at magic – and her clear superior with blades. But this was something you had never seen before – Marialta moved with an unnatural speed and confidence, her every move timed perfectly. She had been blessed with supernatural luck before her ascension, but this was something beyond good fortune. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t save her!

Unable to touch her physically, you seek to wound her emotionally instead. Marialta simply smirks and throws the words back at you.

“Second best? Isn’t that what my dear sister was to you? You threw her away for your immortality, and now you have thrown her away again in favor of your vanity! Your quest to reclaim your fate has led you and her to this point as inexorably as if you had slit her throat and your own! So tell me Umber, how does your throne of ashes taste? I bet – urk!”

You silence the witch by lunging forward, smashing her blades aside with your own and then choking her with your free hand. You lift her up off the ground, channeling all of your energy into the climax of your incantation. Before you are able to finish, Marialta smiles, spits blood into your face, and then brings one of her blades up in an arc, plunging it down into a small gap in your armor, and then through into something vital. You recognize it immediately as a fatal wound – but your death would not be instant. Neither would Marialta’s for that matter, as your incantation complete, you blast her skyward – and into the dark beyond even that! Even here, your victory is a hollow one, Marialta laughing rather than screaming as she ascends out of sight.

Theme Song

Fianna avenged, you turn back to her body to find Ross already administering to it. For a moment you feel a surge of fury at the thought of this beast touching her, but it cools as the rational part of your brain realizes that he is trying to revive her. Trying and failing it seems, as he slumps back with an exhausted growl.

“I dunno if it’s the damned ritual the Baron put up, or the fact these wounds were made with no ordinary blade. I can’t do anything . . . she’s gone.”

You barely even hear Ross over the sound of your own agonizing heartbeat as you fall to your knees beside Fianna. Her alabaster skin had paled to a shade rivaling the one she had in undeath, but she was still breathtakingly beautiful, her face still in perfect condition – minus the blood splatter from her chest wounds and the bruise from Gilgaem’s fist, of course. As if her spirit had sensed your proximity, or perhaps felt challenged by Ross’s admission of defeat, Fianna’s eyes suddenly fluttered.

You had a moment together with her – one last moment of time instead of what should have been an eternity. But it would have to be enough, for then the moment passed, and Fianna’s eyes closed once more, never to reopen. She was dead, and for an incalculable period of time your mind shut down, focused inward on an inconsolable grief and an insatiable rage. Death had won your little game after all, the cards so rigged in its favor that no amount of trickery or raw power could overcome its advantage forever.

When you were once again aware of the world around you, you briefly contemplate your blade, and the possibility of folding and bowing out of the game entirely. But no – whatever else you were, you were still a gambler at heart, and you were not finished. Not yet. It also probably helped that Ross was screaming at you and pulling you up to your feet.

“You crazy bastard! You better start wiggling your fingers or something and get us out of here, because now the whole damn city is collapsing!!”

Looking at where Ross was pointing down the street, you see that the city was indeed falling away into the Hells, one block at a time. Apparently the ignorant pup had forgotten you were now capable of flight. It was indeed time to leave – there was nothing left for you here. Your side pulsing with pain now, you do your best to ignore it as you gather Fianna up in your arms and take off into the air, leaving Ross to cowardly cling to your feet, wincing as he is nearly smashed into buildings several times on your way out.

Soon enough, you arrive at the city gates, beyond where the ritual’s aftereffects held any power. You set Fianna back down – it was still hard to think of her as a corpse – and then went to work removing your armor. You wouldn’t need it where you were going, and it was starting to feel heavy. For your journey ahead, you would need to travel lightly. Whatever else Ross had to say, you didn’t hear it as your world again receded to Fianna’s face. Picking her back up into your arms, you carried her across the remains of the battlefield surrounding the utterly destroyed capital, a bloody bride at an equally messy wedding (one that exceeded even Cheran’s). Dimly, you hear one last howl – Ross – coming from somewhere behind you, and then you simply lose yourself in memory, your body continuing to mechanically carry on its task to take you and Fianna away from here without need of further instruction.

Umber’s Ending Theme

Eventually you come around again to find yourself . . . well, you aren’t quite sure. That seemed oddly appropriate, the pale light of the stars scattering across the desert sands to give it a ghostly appearance. Your side was simply one throbbing mass of fire now, and you were starting to find it hard to breathe. Your leg on that side was also starting to seize up, periodically threatening to pitch your face first into a dune. You continue to walk onward, driven by a desire to go on one last adventure with your great, and only true, love.

Finally, coming to the top of one dune, your leg buckles, and then gives completely, throwing you down onto the dune. You lose your grip on Fianna, her body sliding down to the bottom with yourself tumbling and rolling down after her. You land a short distance away from her, and with your legs failing to respond, drag yourself across the necessary distance to place your hand back in hers. Then you roll over onto your back and look up at the stars. They had moved much farther away than that had been, or perhaps that was a mere optical illusion. Either way, their dim light had grown even dimmer, and now only the barest glimmer stood out against the night.

You feel a wave of euphoria wash over you – no doubt brought on by blood loss, but it brought with it a comforting thought nonetheless. You were Umber, and Death would never be your master. You had eluded its grasp for thousands of years, and in that time saw and experienced everything this world had to offer. Who knew what fascinating wonders and horrors lurked on the other side of the veil between Life and everything else? You were about to begin a new adventure to find out!

Whatever awaited you, as the light faded to complete darkness you were sure of one thing. You may have lost Fianna for thousands of years, but for one brief moment in time you had reclaimed her. Even if it took thousands of years more of wandering on the far side of the Veil, you would find her yet again. And then you would spend Eternity together.

End of Part II

(Yes, Umber is well and truly DEAD. But if you think he’s going to stay that way for long, then you haven’t been paying attention. Come back shortly - player survey going up after The_Snark and OverWilliam post!)

The Perpetual Princess (of Peril)

Lonna

Theme Song

Wulfric was dying. You were dying. These two seemingly immutable facts, coming so closely on the heels of a glimmer of a happy ending for you nearly crushed your spirit. The world simply was not fair, and seemed to have a bizarre fixation for turning everything around back at you. ( ) You were sick of it, and that outrage at your fate turned into unstoppable rage as you fanned the flames.

You were not some helpless little girl, hiding under the bed while your mother was brutally killed above you. You were not a victim for the predators among men to do with as they wish. And you most certainly were not dying today!

You are Jacqueline, and Pyrene the Temptress, and Pyria, daughter of Queen Titania of Phaedra (even if that last one still didn’t quite fully make sense). You had survived Ironheart, and although you are still learning what exactly you are truly capable of, you know that you are powerful.

Summoning all of that power now, you push yourself up, nearly collapsing again as the movement causes the bolt in your chest to shift, working itself in deeper. Forcing the pain back, you crawl the short distance to Wulfric and place your hands on either side of his face. Then whispering an apology and warning, you grant Wulfric his final request. As your lips meet, you pour your being into him, your will just barely enough to contain the torrent of arcane energy you had summoned forth.

Slowly at first but with increasing speed you incinerate the poison flowing through each of you, then the shafts of the bolts, and finally the metal tips that had piercing your flesh, melting them and then pushing the molten remains back out of the wound. And then finally you sear the wounds closed, rebuilding the flesh behind the burns until all that remains are faint scars. It is slow, delicate work, and the strain of using your powers so carefully is quite taxing.

Jacqueline’s Ending Theme

But as you slump back exhausted, you look into Wulfric’s eyes and see your own feelings mirrored there - fear and confusion giving way to relief. You were both going to survive after all! Wulfric manages a slight grin, coughing as his muscles still twitch in pain to his phantom wounds.

“Wow. That was . . . totally . . . worth it.”

Although you would like to remain awake with him and continue sharing in your mutual close escape, that life-saving effort had left you exhausted. You lacked the strength to even keep your eyes open, and so began to drift off into sleep despite yourself. As your eyes closed, you hear the sound of footsteps – someone or something was approaching. Using the last of your strength, you give Wulfric instructions on what to say, and hope it is enough. Just as you are drifting off, however, you hear a feminine voice reply to your command.

“That will not be necessary, Princess. My name is Ruya Perist. And I have been sent to bring you home safely. Your mother is anxiously awaiting your arrival. Welcome home.”

End of Part II

(Come back shortly - player survey going up after The_Snark and OverWilliam post!)