Heeere it is!
Solego had named it “War Machine”.
He saw no need to give it a fancy title.
For a year, a team of engineers lead by Bing Arkon of the Solego Elite worked on it.
It’s base structure was that of a larger-than-average mover, but it’s final form was much, much more.
Fifteen feet long and six feet wide, it was powered by a huge steam engine and rolled on six huge iron wheels. On top of the base frame was a chamber that, in addition to housing the controls, had a pair of cannons not unlike those found on battleships and several holes from which snipers could safely fire blast rods or crossbows. The outside of this chamber was plated with half-inch thick plates of mythril alloy. It was virtually impenetrable.
On top of this chamber was a platform with three-foot high metal walls. It’s intent was to let people ride on top to scout for potential dangers and give magic support.
After a year of hard work, the War Machine was finished. And soon, it would ride for the first time.
“Isn’t it beautiful, sir?” Bing asked as he looked the behemoth of a machine over with a huge grin plastered on his face.
“It is, Bing. It really is.” Solego responded with an equally huge grin. “You are going to pilot it?”
“Yes…I wrote up the blueprints and oversaw every aspect of it’s construction. I know that baby inside and out. I could pilot it blindfolded. Bring along the rest of the Elite and a good number of soldiers, and we’re invincible.”
“You really shouldn’t say that. It’s bad luck.”
“I know…but in this case, it’s pretty much true.”
Solego turned to the Elf and smiled.
“Do not think for a moment that I doubt your abilities. But in my experiences, I have always found it prudent to prepare for worst-case scenarios.”
“I know, sir.” Arkon replied. “If, by some chance, it receives substantial damage, we’ll simply portal it right back. I have a repair team standing by. We can have it brought back from near-death within an hour.”
The elder Adept let out a chuckle.
“You really are a genius.”
The two shared a short laugh.
“When will we be ready to deploy?” Solego asked, turning his attention back to the machine.
“Barring unforeseen circumstances, about fifteen minutes. My men are looking it over, checking for anything that could possibly go wrong and taking care of it.”
Solego drew Hyperion from the sheath on his back and raised it upwards.
“Those Datharel fools will never see it coming! I’ll crush them all like insects!”
Orion would never have admitted it in front of the group, but he was a little bit worried. “Mox, are you SURE you know where we’re going?” “Sure enough...” She gestured for the group to stop, then looked around a nearby corner. “Over there...” she said, her voice hushed. “Those’re the cells they threw Beekon in...one guard on duty. His back is turned...I can take him out.” Moving as silently as a cat, Mox crept forward. Orion peeked around the corner and watched her. Slowly, she approached the oblivious guard. When she was close enough, she leapt forward, wrapped her arms around his throat and gave a sharp twist. With a nasty-sounding crack, the guard slumped to the ground, dead. Orion couldn’t help but shudder. “Wow...that was...whoa.” he stammered. “You just...snuffed that guy out.” Mox cracked her knuckles. “Yeah...In my business, I’ve had to ‘snuff out’ more than one idiot that got in my way...I avoid it when possible, sometimes you jus’ gotta kill or be killed. It’s a fact of life. ” Orion signed. “Yeah...I know...” Mox walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “I can tell that you all have seen some serious combat. I can also tell that you didn’t enjoy it much. I won’t bore you with a cliché ‘killing is never easy’ lecture, but you must know that in situations like this, you have very little choice.” Orion nodded unsurely. “I wish I had somethin’ a bit more comforting to say, but that kinda thing was never really my bag. You’re a good kid, Orion. People like you shouldn’t be in places like this.” “Thanks.” “No sweat. Now excuse me while I go rescue my man.” Making sure no-one was looking, Mox slipped into the door that led to the cells. Five minutes later, she slipped back out with a certain orange-headed Mystic in tow. “Mox filled me in on the situation.” He said. “I must say, kid...you got brass ones.” “Thanks....I think.” Orion said, scratching his head. “Let’s hurry on.” Mox said. “The storeroom I was talkin’ about is pretty close.” After navigating the maze of corridors that made up the lower levels of Solego Temple, they came to a large steel door with a big handle on it. “This is it.” said Beekon. “They keep everything that they confiscate from prisoners in here.” Orion stepped forward and tried to pull it open. “Damn...locked.” “Of course it’s locked. Take a look at that” Beekon said, pointing at a large emblem on the door. “That thing is a magical lock...you couldn’t break down this door if you had fifty pounds of explosives.” “So...what then?” Orion asked. “We can’t get in?” “I didn’t say that.” Responded Beekon, a smug grin slowly spreading across his face. “If I ever find a door that neither me or Mox can find I way through, I’ll eat my socks. Step back.” Beekon held out his hand and concentrated. For several minutes, nothing seemed to happen. Orion noticed small beads of sweat beginning to form on Beekon’s brow. “Um...what’s he trying to do?” he whispered to Mox. “Shh...jus’ watch.” she said. A few more minutes passed. Then Orion noticed the emblem shimmering strangely. His eyes widened as the emblem began to melt off the door. “What in the...” he said, dumbstruck. “A concentrated light beam.” Beekon responded. “Very few Adepts can do it and even fewer can do it well. The door should open now.” Orion tried the door, and sure enough it opened easily. The storeroom that was behind the door was at LEAST the size of the group’s dormitory back home. There was a large number of crates of varying sizes, and weapon racks lined the walls. “Alrighty then!” Beekon shouted triumphantly. “Let’s load up! Take anything that isn’t nailed down! In fact, give the stuff that IS nailed down a shot too.” Breaker had broken off from the group and had already found his battleaxe. In his other hand he clutched a second, smaller axe. “I like this...I like this a LOT!” he said, giving the two weapons a few practice swings. “To arms, men! We’ve got a war to fight!” Orion drew Starcleaver and pointed it forward. “You heard the Dwarf! Load up!”
Twenty minutes later, everyone was had their old equipment back, and more. Vixx was lucky enough to stumble upon a cache of light chainmail vests. (Literally…he was standing on the crate to reach his warhammer and fell through it.)
And that wasn’t the only lucky find. Karen had found a box of metal spheres that turned out to be explosives. Mason had explained how they worked.
“It’s quite simple, really. Inside the sphere is two chemicals that, when mixed, rapidly combust and ignite. Just pull out this little tab and throw it.”
In addition, Mox had armed herself with a pair of knives and Beekon found a good supply of reloads for his hand cannons.
They were all making final preparations, except for Orion and Ganni. They were still poking around, looking for anything that could give them an edge.
“Hey…look at that!” Ganni said. Orion turned and looked to see a very bulky-looking hand cannon in a glass display case.
“Huh…this hand cannon looks odd…” Orion thought out loud.
“Lemme take a look at that.” came Beekon’s voice from behind them. Orion jumped and turned around to see Beekon standing directly behind him.
“…how in the nine hells did you do that?!”
“Trade secret. Now fork over the gun.”
Orion did grabbed the gun and handed it to Beekon. Beekon took off his dark glasses and examined the gun.
“Sweet flaming Sol, do you know what this is?” the Mystic exclaimed.
“Um…a gun?” said Ganni, raising one eyebrow.
“More than just a gun, my friend!” Beekon responded, grinning ear to ear.
“You see this bulky part above the trigger? It holds bullets. I had heard rumors of hand cannons made to fire multiple shots without reloadin’, but I had thought they was just that!”
“Wait, wait, wait…” Ganni interjected. “Hand cannons…that can fire more than once without reloading? That’s…kind of fighting dirty, isn’t it?”
Orion chuckled at that. “Ganni…Izzy always told me ‘Fighting itself is dirty, so there’s no such thing as fighting dirty’. We can’t expect Solego’s grunts to play fair, so I see no reason for us to. Beekon, hold on to that gun.”
Beekon twirled the gun a few times and stuck it into a holster at his hip.
“Hey, c’mon, guys!” Karen’s voice rang out. “We gotta get moving!”
The three joined together with the rest of the group. Mason was standing before them, clutching a large sheet of parchment.
“Alright.” He said. “I found some maps of the place in a large box…I can’t vouch for the accuracy of them – they seem rather crude to me – but we can get a basic idea of where to head. Gather ‘round.”
He spread the map out on the floor as the others huddled around him.
“Alright.” He said, picking up a small stick. “We’re here.”
He pointed to a small room on the map with the stick.
“This is the first floor. We should probably follow this corridor to the antechamber right here.” He pointed again. “From there we can go to the soldier’s trainer hall.” Point. “If Solego is preparing an invasion, it’ll most likely be empty. Solego has never been one to hold back…whatever his target is, he’ll be giving it all he has. A relentless assault. Now, in the training hall, there’s two staircases. One of them…” Point. “Leads right here.” Point. “That leads to an area of the basement that doesn’t seem to be used for anything. Now, the other…” Point. “leads right to the crux of the second floor. Nearby are Solego’s laboratories. We should probably trash whatever we can in there, but let’s not waste too much time there. Now, if Solego hasn’t set out yet, he’s likely somewhere on the second level. The fastest way to kill the snake is to cut off the head, so he should be our prime target.”
Mason righted himself and tossed the stick aside. “Any questions?”
Alex raises his hand. “Why aren’t you armed?”
Mason chuckled. “Never been much of a fighter…in the event of a big brawl, I’ll be in the back providing spell support. Anything else?”
A few people’s hands went up. Ganni redirected his attention to Robyn, who was near the back. He walked up to her.
“Are you okay?” he said.
She turned and looked him in the eyes. “No…I’m really not.”
“Yeah…me neither.” Said Ganni, running a hand though his short black hair. “This whole place frightens me…we’re right in the belly of the beast. I have no doubt in my mind that everyone else feels the same way.”
Robyn shuddered. Ganni put a hand on her shoulder. “I know you‘re not much of a fighter…stay in the back with Mason. You’re probably the best spellcaster among us…your support would be much appreciated.”
Robyn nodded. “Ganni…”
“Is everything going to be okay?”
“You want for reassurance or honesty?”
“Everything’s gonna work out just fine.”
Robyn smiled weakly. “Thank you, Ganni.”
She leaned forward and pecked him on the cheek.
“Let’s go…win or lose, we’re going to show Solego what we’re made of.”
She walked back to the group. As soon as she was out of sight, Ganni’s face turned beet red.
“Hey, Gan!” Orion called. “Move your butt! We’re headin’ out!”
The Orc blinked a few times, then shook his head and followed Robyn.
“Alright!” Orion shouted. “We may not win this thing…hell, odds are good that we won’t. But I’ll be damned if we’re gonna lie down and wait for the end! Let’s go raise some hell!”
The group cheered and headed out of the storeroom. Mason shot the map a quick glance.
“This way! He said, gesturing toward a corridor. Soon enough, at the end of the corridor was a small antechamber. At the northern end of it was a wide wooden door that said “TRAINING HALL” on it.
Led by Orion, the group approached the door and tried to open it. Locked. Orion simply raised his leg and gave a firm kick. The training hall was gigantic. A large number of targets and training dummies were all over. The group warily walked in.
Standing side by side in the middle of the room were Boilseed and Lazeaer.
“Do you honestly think we’ve been unaware of you all moving about?” Boilseed yelled, a wicket grin on his face. “We’ve been waiting for you…you’re all too late! Solego’s conquest has begun, and Datharel is his first target! And as for all of you…”
He clicked his fingers and an large group of soldiers – Orion estimated about a hundred – leapt out from behind the dummies and targets.
“You shall meet your end here!”
Orion swiftly drew his sword. “We fear not the end! Bring it on!”
Lazear chuckled darkly. “You heard him, boys. Slaughter the lot of them.”
The Adepts all assumed combat stances as the soldiers charged…
Meanwhile, in the Datharel settlement, a large portal had opened. Out of the portal, a battalion of soldiers marched. Following close behind them was the great War Machine. Perched on top of it, clutching a might blade of pure power, was Adrian Solego. He pointed the sword out, and a stream of energy bolted forth at a nearby house, leaving a large searing hole in the side of it. He let out a maniacal cackle. “All this power at my fingertips...they won’t stand a chance!” A door on War Machine opened up and Tacker leapt out of it. He began shouting orders to the soldiers. “This is what you’ve been training for, men! Charge forward and destroy everything that gets in your way! We’re going to head straight for the temple and raze it! Be prepared for anything...Datharel is a crafty bastard! Now, MOVE OUT!” Battles between wizard clans, while not frequent happenings, happened often enough to merit the larger clans having small armies for defensive purposes. But the Solego Armed Forces were MUCH larger than one would expect, and they were trained to destroy. Glad in black-tinted armor and wielding a wide variety of fine weaponry, the mere sight of them were enough to strike terror into the hearts of an average man. The soldiers began marching forward, weapons readied, with the War Machine following behind. They stopped only to destroy nearby structures and slaughter anyone foolish enough to try and get in their way. In what seemed like no time at all, they began to approach the temple. Waiting for them at the temple gates was a small battalion of soldiers clad in silvery armor. Standing at the head of the force, dressed in full battle gear, was Vincent Datharel and the Datharel Elite. Solego’s forces abruptly stopped. For what felt like an eternity, the group stared each other down. General Tacker broke the silence by leaping forward and shrieking a warcry. “Forward, men!” The Dwarf shouted. “Slaughter them!” The black-armored men resumed their march. Suddenly, a loud bang resounded and the frontmost squad leader fell. Tacker looked up and saw an Elvish Fire Adept perched on a nearby scout tower, aiming a smoking blast rob. He shot a thumbs up to Datharel, who in turn waved his hand, sending several energy bolts straight up. “We are not afraid of you, Solego!” Datharel shouted defiantly. “Legendary weaponry or no, we will not let you pass!” Solego let out yet another maniacal cackle as he brandished Hyperion. “You always were a foolish one, Datharel!” he shouted back. He swung the mighty blade forward and a surge of energy rushed forth striking the ground in front of Datharel and leaving a smoking hole. Datharel raised his fist, as if signaling someone, and the Datharel soldiers charged forward. Solego’s forces quickly retaliated.
“I must say, the odds really seem to be against us.”
Those were the words that escaped Orion Dekar’s lips as a group of soldiers, led by Spencer Boilseed and Sarrie Lazear, slowly advanced on him, sword drawn.
“Pssh.” Said Ganni. “You’re great at beating odds. Do you know what the odds of getting struck by lightning are?”
“Astronomical.” Orion responded.
“And didn’t you get struck by lightning once?”
Orion groaned. “I’m just glad my eyebrows grew back.”
“In retrospect, you probably shouldn’t have been swinging a spear around in a rainstorm.”
“Can we PLEASE focus on the matter at hand?”
The soldiers continued to advance.
“Anybody got any ideas?” Maya asked.
“Yeah, let’s try not to get killed.” Karen responded in a nervous tone. She was clutching her spear very tightly.
Some of the soldiers broke off into a run. Orion thrust out his spare hand and let out a burst of flame, incinerating several of them.
“I’m disappointed, Spence!” he called out. “One would have thought your men wouldn’t try that twice.”
Boilseed chuckled. “It can’t be helped…all my best men are busy razing your hometown to the ground.”
The young Human growled. “Alright, enough with the talk here. Less gabbin’, more stabbin’!”
With that, the Adepts loosed a variety of elemental blasts at the enemy. Most of them jumped back, but they took out a few.
Boilseed unsheathed his huge claymore and Lazear drew an elegant-looking rapier.
The Soldiers and the Adepts quickly engaged each other, but Orion and Boilseed were still staring each other down.
“So this is what it comes down to…” growled the elder Adept.
“Guess so…so shall we get on with it? I’m rather looking forward to burying my sword in your ass.” Orion responded, a cocky smile on his face.
Boilseed chuckled. “I like your attitude, kid. We’ll do this the old-fashioned way. First one to die loses!”
Boilseed charged forward with a mighty overhead swing, which Orion quickly sidestepped and parried.
“I REALLY hope that wasn’t your best.” Orion said as he swiftly countered.
“You have no idea what you’re up against, BOY.” Responded Boilseed with a piercing glare.
And their swords met once again. With every step he took, every move he made, Orion could see all the skill that Spencer Boilseed had. ‘I may not be as skilled, or as fast, or as strong…’ Orion thought, ‘but I…I…damn, I SUCK at these reassuring thoughts. Oop, better focus on the fight…’
The Datharel Settlement was in a state of total unrest, the air full of the resonant cries of clashing weapons and wounded soldiers. A fierce battle was raging on like a storm...the men of Clan Datharel were vastly outnumbered, and they knew this, but they still picked up their swords and charged forth, ready to defend their home. On the top of a nearby scout tower, an Elf by the name of Izzy Hawke was picking Solego’s men off one by one, using a blast rod specially modified to hit distant targets. He wanted nothing more than to plant a bullet into the skull of Solego himself, but Vincent had told him that he had to face Solego himself. Slamming another bullet into the chamber of his gun, he mentally marked yet another soldier... At the gates of the temple stood the Datharel Elite, slinging spells at all who were stupid enough to get within their line of vision. Above them hovered Davan Winterwood, Light Adept and master summoner, who was busy channeling a spell to enhance the spirits he had called forth to fight for him. Directly below him was Raina Leon and Pyras Flarehart, hurling forth elemental blasts like there was no tomorrow, and knowing very well that if they failed, there wouldn’t be as far as they were concerned. The remainder of the Elite was flanking them, casting with equal ferocity. In the middle of it all, Vincent Datharel was marching forth toward War Machine. Anyone who got in his way was flung aside like a rag doll. He soon found himself about ten yards in front of the gargantuan machine, staring straight down the barrel of one of it’s massive cannons. With a huge bang, the gun fired. With a yellow flash of his eyes, Datharel trust out his arm and the cannonball stopped in mid-flight, a mere foot away from his face. He waved his hand and it harmlessly fell to the ground. “Come out and face me, Adrian!” the old Mystic shouted. Responding to his command, Solego leapt off the top of the machine and, with unexpected grace, landed a few yards away from Datharel, clutching Hyperion tightly in his hand. “So nice of you to come out and play, Vincent. Why don’t you be a good boy and surrender.” He said with a vicious smile on his pale face. “You know I can’t do that, Adrian. My only question is...why? Why did you always strive for power to fiercely? Why start this pointless war.” “In short, I’m a greedy bastard. The wizards of yore ruled this world by dint of pure power...and if you ask me, those ages should never have passed! The strong were always destined to rule the weak! Why can’t you see that?!” Datharel sighed. “If you have to ask, then you’ll never know.” Solego let out a dark chuckle. “I’m going to assume that you realize that I hold in my hand the power to vaporize you without breaking a sweat.” “Oh, yes, I’m very aware of that. But you won’t do it.” “Oh really? And why not?” It was Datharel’s turn to chuckle. “I know you, Adrian. We’ve only met personally on a few occasions, but I know you. You’re an egomaniac. You and I are probably the greatest wizards in this land, on this continent...perhaps even on all of Arroyo. But no matter how much power you gain, how much of this world you rule, you will never be truly happy until you know for sure which one of us is better.” There was a long silence. Solego’s dark gray eyes burned with hatred. He pointed his hand straight up, and an earsplitting bang burst forth. Everyone within a ten-mile radius fell silent and turned to look at them. Solego snapped his fingers. Tacker ran to his side. Solego handed Tacker Hyperion, and Tacker handed him back a long, gnarled staff. “This will end today.” Solego growled in a low, malicious tone. “I couldn’t agree more.” Datharel replied, his eyes full of fiery determination. “I will kill you if I have to, Adrian.” Solego’s lips slowly curled into a smile. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Vinny.” In the blink of an eye, Datharel flung out his arm and a blue bolt of magical energy rushed at Solego, which he easily deflected. “You KNOW I hate being called that.” The Mystic said. He grabbed the jeweled head of his cane and pulled, unsheathing a thin blade. The two raised their weapons in unison and bowed to each other. Without another word, they rushed at each other, blazing spells and deadly curses at the ready. Datharel swung his blade. Solego swiftly blocked with his staff and raises his other hand. His eyes shifted to cyan as he released a bolt of electrical energy. The energy struck Datharel in the chest, sending him flying back several feet. Datharel quickly righted himself and retaliated with a burst of darkness as his eyes faded to black. Solego raised his staff and sucked the incoming energy into it. He then closed his eyes and melted into a black spot on the ground, which rushed toward Datharel. Before he could react, the shadow was behind him. Solego rose from it and struck Datharel in the back of the head with his staff. Datharel fell forward onto the ground. Solego grinned and pointed at him, letting out a wave of fire, but with a cloud of smoke and a “Poof” sound, Datharel disappeared. A few seconds later, he reappeared, standing upright, a few feet away. Solego’s angry eyes burned. “You are only prolonging the inevitable, fool!” He thrust out his hand and prepared to cast a deadly spell. His voice rang out in an unearthly tone. “CrurorProcella!” A huge cloud of what looked like blood-red mist rushed forth with a shriek-like sound. Datharel didn’t even try to dodge. The mist engulfed him and let out an indescribable sound. Many onlookers gasped. From within the cloud, Datharel shouted “Renuo!” The cloud dissipated. “I must say, Adrian, I’m impressed.” Datharel said calmly, as he brushed off the sleeves of the thick robe he was wearing. “Even for a wizard of your calibur, a powerful spell like Bloodstorm is quite difficult to manage. However, you are not the only one with a few dirty tricks up your sleeve...” With that, Datharel raised his hands and made some strange gestures. Then, his voice rang out in a mighty tone. “SANCTUS IGNIS!” As he spoke the words, his body seemed to take on a weird shine...as he completed the gestures, a huge wave of white fire formed and rushed toward Solego like a hurricane. Solego was not prepared for a spell of that magnitude. He raised his staff to perform a counterspell, but it was too late. The fiery onslaught devoured him. There was a huge flash of light that blinded everyone present. When it subsided, Solego was down on his knees. His robes were singed and frayed, his pale skin was blackened and bruised, and he was panting heavily. Every last one of the soldiers – on both sides – was dumbstruck. Without turning away, Datharel fired an energy wave at War Machine. When it struck, it’s cannons cracked and crumbled instantaneously. Within moments they were rendered useless. Solego feebly raised his arm and waved. Bing Arkon emerged from a hatch on top of War Machine and swiftly conjured a portal. The black-armored soldiers started running toward it. Tacker ran to Solego’s side and helped him stand. Solego weakly raised his head and looked Datharel in the eyes. “This...isn’t...over...” he whispered. With Tacker’s aid, he ran toward the portal. War Machine started backing through it. “Perhaps you’re right, Adrian...” Datharel said to no-one. “But I think it’s over for you...”
One battle had ending, but back at the Solego Settlement, another one was raging like a thunderstorm.
Spells and swords were flying wildly throughout the huge training hall as a small group of wizards and warriors fought for their lives.
Alex was trying to fend off several soldiers who had noticed his semi-sluggish movements and, thinking him an easy target, tried to gang up on him. One of them tripped him up and pointed a sword at his throat.
“Why don’t you surrender, boy? Save yourself from the fate of your clansmen? ”
Alex laughed, getting a confused look from the soldiers. “Buddy, I am VERY far from my home, I am hungry, I am tired, and I’m pretty sure I’m going through withdrawal. You do NOT want to screw with me right now.”
He gave a sharp kick to the closest man’s groin, and with a blink, he disappeared, only to reappear a second later behind him and shove a pointed katar through his chest. Moving through the flow time as if it was water, he quickly dispatched the soldiers.
A short distance away, Beekon and Mox were fighting back-to-back. Mox fought like a demon with her knives, taking out anyone who got within range before they could blink, while Beekon was having a great time with his new hand cannon. His opponents were falling like dominos.
He held the gun up to his face and kissed it.
“I gotta tell ya, Moxie,” he said, “if I wasn’t madly in love with ya, I’d marry this gun.”
This earned him a smile from the Mer thief, who paused to give him a long kiss before leaping forward to take out an approaching guardsman.
In the center of the room, amidst the chaos and confusion of the battle, two swordsmen were locked in combat. Every move they made was like a step to an elegant dance. Every stab, slash and parry was a work of art.
The two paused for a moment and locked eyes. Each one stared into the other’s soul and saw nothing but pure determination. Orion jumped forward and jabbed at Boilseed. Boilseed sidestepped and evaded the blow, but Orion still nicked his arm, drawing blood.
Boilseed paid the wound no heed and sliced at Orion’s chest. Orion managed to evade, but barely made it. The tunic he was wearing over the chainmail vest has a large rip in it.
‘Damn, I can’t beat this guy!’ he thought, praying that Boilseed couldn’t see his desperation. ‘I think I need some different tactics…but what…hmm, could that work? Kinda risky but…what the hell, worth a shot…’
Boilseed stepped forward and raised his blade. As he prepared to strike, Orion feinted to the right. Boilseed began to bring down his blade. He had fallen for it. With catlike reflexes and agility, Orion moved the other way and swung at Boilseed’s bare hands, leaving a large cut. Boilseed growled in pain and dropped his sword. This was the opportunity Orion had been waiting for. He delivered a swift kick to Boilseed’s gut, knocking the wind out of him and bringing him to his knees. Orion wasted no time at pointing Starcleaver at the man’s throat.
Boilseed looked up, and once again his eyes locked with Orion’s. There was a long pause. Spencer finally closed his eyes, looked to the ground, and said in a hushed tone “I yield.”
Orion kicked Boilseed’s claymore aside and sheathed his own blade.
Boilseed slowly rose and turned away from Orion, heading toward the exit, when suddenly he stopped moving and clutched his head. Seeming to come out of nowhere, Lazear ran to his side. The two exchanged some words that Orion couldn’t hear, and quickly ran out. Orion didn’t take the time to ponder the situation, and returned his attention to the ongoing battle.
Seeing Maya trying to defend herself from a pair of soldiers, Orion whipped out his blade and charged.
In a secret chamber in Solego Temple, A portal opened up Olrik Tacker, Adrian Solego and a large group of soldiers poured out of it, followed soon after by the War Machine. Boilseed and Lazear ran to Solego’s side, shocked by his injuries. “Sir! Are you alright?” Lazear asked. “That bastard Datharel...” Solego said bitterly. “He should have killed me...he thinks he’s won...he’s thinks this war is over...but he couldn’t be more wrong!” He turned to Lazear and Boilseed. “Spencer, talk to Bing and help him with repairs to War Machine’s weaponry, and see if it can be enhanced in any way.” “Yes, sir.” He responded, immediately running to the machine. “Sarrie, are those Datharel Adepts still in the temple?” “Yes, sir...some of our soldiers are taking care of them as they speak.” “Make sure they don’t leave. And summon Nightshade and Phantasm to me, quickly!” She nodded and ran off. “Bastard...as long as I draw breath, this war is not over! If I cannot own Arroyo, then I shall destroy it! I will kill them all...starting with those Datharel brats!” Solego let out a long, hard laugh that echoed eerily throughout the chamber. ***** You may all praise me now. ^_^ Seriously, though...let me know what you all think! I crave feedback! The story will soon be coming to a close...