is rocking in his corner of the office cubicle Holy crap! So…much…reading!
gets up Well, finally read all of this. >_< And it is no mean feat as there was 120 episodes to read, each over 500 words long…Which equals over 60,000 words!!!
…I need to go back to work. goes back to whatever experiment is next set out for him
The Final Saga part 122: Alliance of Heroes
by d_Galloway
Naar’s massive army stood in absolute formation, their endless lines and battalions stretching across nearly all of the Plane of Darkness. Unspeakable horrors, their shapes alien and incomprehensible for even the most learned and stalwart of minds, waited impatiently for their master’s coming, ever eager to serve his greater interests. For his part, Naar was brimming with anticipation as well. The invasion would soon begin, RPGC would crumble, and once Lone Wolf and Galloway were dead, the Kai Lords would be extinct once and forever. He was about as giddy as a black-armored god of all that is evil could possibly be.
Hours passed as everyone soaked in the anticipation, the growing bloodlust, the desire to spread fear and panic to the enemies of darkness. Finally, Naar marched onto the balcony, his gaze flying over his amassed horde; for once, he was pleased. This was a grander army than even the force that had conquered the Heavens.
“Soldiers of Evil!” shouted Naar. His voice boomed across the stripped plains like cackling thunder. “Today we march to glory. The enemy is great in numbers, but we shall bury them under our massive flood. The enemy is great in power, but we shall strangle the strength from them. The enemy holds the secrets of Kai, but we shall remove it from all understanding forever. We have made the very Heavens cry at our coming. Entire universes have been razed at our hands. Individually, we can be defeated, but together, as one army, as one BEING, we are invincible!”
The forces shouted, growled, hissed, and roared their approval. After allowing the approving gestures for a few minutes, Naar finally motioned to stop. “Soon, the Shadow Gates shall open, and our forces shall pour out like a great sea. We shall conquer this world like we have thousands of others!”
(to be continued)
More tomorrow.
Back in RPGC, the gathered heroes had begun to disperse. Some returned to the police station, to rendezvous with the gathered mercenaries. Still others returned to RPGC Castle, hoping to prepare the guards for war. And even more simply returned to their homes for the time being, weary from their death and ressurection, and feeling rather disheartened by their chances. Only Sinistral remained with the RPGC Task Force, his eyes locked on a nondescript spot on the cold steel floor.
The Task Force, for their part, were seated around him at the meeting table, their heads hung dismissively. Even kiro, the catgirl that would have been filling the entire bunker with scorch marks and spent shells by this time, seemed to lose what little vigor she had left. It was Mabatsekker who finally broke the mournful silence. “So…what do we do now?”
“We do nothing,” said Sinistral.
“I disagree with that notion,” said Beckons. “I mean, we can-”
Sinistral didn’t even lift his head; were it not for his words, he would have seemed completely dead. “In the last few weeks, RPGC’s infrastructure has been completely destroyed. The mercenaries first take over the town, and then the clones cost us valuable time. The zombie attack only hastened things. We are undermanned, underarmed, and almost allyless. Our agreement with the Norse Pantheon is hanging by a thread, and they WILL betray us by the end of this.”
“What about Weiila?” said GG Crono. “I mean, she’s a goddess!”
“That’s not Weiila,” said Sin. Everyone looked at him in half-shock. “That…thing she’s become is cold-blooded, ruthless, and apparently partially unhinged. And now, she’s the most powerful force in RPGC, now that Loki is missing and Galloway was depowered.”
“Is there…any way to win?” whispered kiro, her voice raspy from silent tears.
“Not without more allies,” said Heaven’s Soldier.
That was when inspiration hit, of all people, Glenton, its arch-nemesis and perpetual buttmonkey. That, or he leaned back too far in smug satisfaction at seeing his enemies morally crushed and fell on his ass. Either way, after he pulled himself back up… “I got it! You guys are heroes, right?”
“Of course,” said Heaven’s Soldier.
“And what do heroes do? They save people’s asses! Very grateful people’s asses, I might add!”
The formation of a plan suddenly struck Sin as well. That, or he had a sudden flashback to the Orakian Crusades, causing him to slam his hand on the table with enough force to nearly fracture his wrist. Still… “That’s it! It’s time to call in some favors!”
The rest of the Task Force finally got into the swing of things, but fortunately without the needless special effects. “Crono, are the archives still working?” shouted Heaven’s Soldier.
“Like a charm!” said GG.
“kiro, get ahold of Martinez! Tell him to call up every dimension he’s ever been to!” kiro let out a small salute before dashing up, a helpless Rio in tow. “Glenton, get ahold of the underworld! Let them know that if they sign up with us, we’ll forgive some of their past offences!” Half out of self-serving survialism, Glenton nodded and rushed off. “Beckons! Get every available soldier you can! Tell them to prepare to march!” Beckons bowed and faded away. “And Mabat, get in touch with the Gods! Tell them it’s time they took some action!” Mabat nodded and slipped off.
Sinistral let out a small smile. “You really think they’re going to all come?”
“Not everyone,” said Heaven’s Soldier. “Some are ungrateful, some don’t remember us, and a few probably don’t even know the danger they’re in. I’m just banking on those that DO being powerful and aware enough to give us an edge.”
“And what about Weiila?”
“She’ll be here. She may be a goddess, but she’s still the person we all knew her to be…”
Mabatsekker was halfway to the dimensional portal when everything suddenly faded to white. Within seconds, he found himself standing in a large Roman pantheon of sorts, staring straight at all manner of gods and mythical beings. The Norse Gods were in attendance, of course, helmed by Freya, but it seemed like damn near every other pantheon, even ones he didn’t recognize, were all seated before him.
After several agonizingly silent minutes, Mabat finally cleared his throat. “Wh-What just happened?”
“We’ve been watching you since the first Naar incident,” said one of the gods. “We knew you were trying to find your way here. Thought we’d spare you the trip.”
“Then…Then you know why I’m here?”
“Of course we know!” said another. “Kai has beseeched our aid for centuries. He will not get a drop of my followers’ blood!”
“Nor mine!”
“I will not lose what few worshippers I have!”
“You have our answer, mortal! Now leave our-”
Even before the words had left the god’s lips, Mabat had an idea. It was wild, absurb, and totally stupid. He knew he was probably going to die, but if he understood his powers properly, and his body could take it, AND the whole universe wasn’t going to die, he might have a chance. “Alright, so you won’t help us now. But what’ll happen down the line?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you think Naar’s gonna be happy stomping out one little threat?” said Mabat. “The bastard’s rushing through one universe after another. The only thing keeping him at bay are the Kai and his TWO true followers. Once he’s wiped them out, what’s he gonna do next? He’ll start on the next universe, and the one after that.”
“That is against our order. The universe was divided fairly when-”
“When everything was born, yeah yeah yeah, we went through this last year. Do you really think Naar cares anymore? The guy’s evil distilled into its purest form. From what I’ve heard, he had the same deal with Kai, backstabbed him, and then simply corrupted what he couldn’t take by force. We’ve seen his handiwork better than any of you. And frankly, I’m sick of you bastards hanging out up here and not doing a fucking thing to help!”
“…Our answer remains unchanged. We can defeat Naar easily.”
“Oh, yeah? Didn’t he kick your ass no more than a few weeks ago? His MORTAL forces crushed your precious, hand-picked disciples. And that wasn’t even his main force; he was REALLY after a several thousand-year-old blonde guy and a saiyan. Imagine what he’ll do when he comes back.”
“This is a mortal-”
“Mortal my blue mage ass! You’re supposed to be the fucking gods, the beings that control everything from the cosmos. So far all I’ve seen you do is bitch and moan about your supposed subjects and why they don’t deserve your help! Here’s a guy from a world NONE of you bastards control! You can’t shut me up without pissing off your own precious control! And if you want to save your asses, then you’ll give us some fucking support!”
Glenton suddenly felt very unsure of himself, standing in the middle of his old hangouts. RPGC’s most run-down of districts, rampant with slum housing, crack houses, and seedy brothels, was once a stomping ground for thieves like himself. Now was different. He was supposed to play the part of hero, giving the same olive branch to the thugs and punks that he had himself rejected hundreds of times over. And even if he did betray them and escape, he could never really return. Something had changed in him, a kind of caring had formed in his dead heart. And it sickened him.
His musings and self-monologing finally ended when the gangs he had called together arrived. He had been as careful as possible, keeping rivals from being too close to each other, while also making sure they realized he could “drop” live grenades in all their pants without a moment’s provocation. And he probably would afterwards, just to blow off some steam. In any case, negotiations weren’t going to be as hard as television made it appear. For all their gruffness and seeming power, these weren’t real professional criminals. They were little more than little violent brats, and would have an easier time pushing little girls around the playground than take on the “big boys” of the Mafia, or Yakuza, or even the Triads.
Mere minutes are receiving the call, Martinez was already buried under astral charts, old memoirs, ancient journels, golden keepsakes, and various other memorabillia of his many, many adventures. He had also managed to finish recording the exploits of the last Task Force just before Val’s murder, meaning he had access to THEIR accomplishments, as well. In any case, it wasn’t going to be easy to get everyone on their side. Of the universes the Task Force had ventured to, only Matriarch Deralin of Iona was willing to send her forces. That was when he realized the truth.
“Nobody believes us,” he sighed. “I…guess I’ll have to stick to places that Naar personally attacked. Maybe THEN I cam get some help.”
“Who are you talking to?”
Wil turned around to see Nelimar, her eyes half closed from a lack of sleep. “Um…nobody. You see, when you become a superhero, you have to externalize everything that ever crosses your head. That way, everyone knows what’s going on without having to actually show it.”
“And…why do you do this?”
“Because we’re very, very lazy.”
Beckons easily managed to drag his allies out of their beds, cursing himself for not getting the best assignment.
Before long, Beckons and Glenton arrived at the RPGCPD, followers in tow. Sinistral and Heaven’s Soldier were already there, as was GG Crono, the latter being currently in the station. “Alright, that’s two down,” said Sin.
Suddenly, Martinez also returned…followed by about several thousand figures from across the multiverse, running the entire gambit of size, shape and species. “It was a pretty productive night, I’d say,” said Martinez.
Finally, Mabatsekker returned…with nothing at all. “Sorry. They weren’t willing to listen.”
“I knew that,” said Sin. “But we have enough to win this thing, I think. Now, everyone is to get ready for battle. Tomorrow…the real war begins.”
THE END OF PART 122
Next time: Nyarlathotep’s Requim
HAH! Who’s The Man with the Connections? Who??
Er… I mean, nice work, d, as usual. Looking for to the next installments. Ohh, Nyarl’s gonna be back, neat!
But I do SO not think out loud all the time. I do not! I do not, I SAY!!
Uh… I’ll go back to writing my story now. Toodles! 
Arch nemesis of inspiration, eh? Am I that draining of your creative process, d? :mwahaha:
And… I am getting a heart? Ok, that does it… someone give me a box of kittens, I need to earn some bad karma.
But, a good read, d. And very enjoyable.
Oh yeah… look who’s giving out the orders. Alright.
ahem I mean… bout time we called in all those favours we mounted up of the years.
The Final Saga Part 123: Nyarlathotep’s Requiem
By d_Galloway
Deep within the frozen confines of Hel, Mox sat on his skull throne, clutching his terrible flaming sword. All around him, whatever stray demons his minions had managed to pick up and bring to his domain were quickly being subdued and reassigned to their new purposes. Meanwhile, Nyarlatothep, the once mighty personification of mankind’s evil, was chained to the floor immediately in front of the Dark Demon, his occasional throes and squirms providing the former’s only entertainment in this entire accursed realm.
However, while Mox simply continued to remain perpetually bored out of his skull, Nyarl’s thoughts were focused on pure anger and hatred. First, Martinez manages to defeat him not once, but twice. THEN, when he believed he had been rescued by Naar, he had really been reduced to the errand boy of a far more powerful deity. NOW, he was stranded in the netherworld, tortured for laughs by a power-crazed sorcerer. In but a few years, he had gone from the world’s greatest threat to a failure of a being.
Mox’s ears suddenly perked up. “It’s begun.”
“What’s begun, you miserable mortal?!” screeched Nyarl.
The sorcerer waved a single dismissive finger at his prisoner. “Nah nah nah, no speaking out of turn, Theppy!” The gargoyle-thing gave only a strained growl in reply. “RPGC has finally mobilized itself into a formidable force. At this rate, they may actually win.”
“And now you’ll let them fight it out, sweep in, and kill them all when they’re barely able to stand up,” said Nyarl. “I’ve seen that a thousand times, Xian!”
“And they say I like imagination,” muttered Mox. “No, my simplistic hate-monger, I have a better plan. One that involves you, in fact.”
Naar’s forces stood poised at the swirling mass of Shadow Gates, patiently waiting for the stars to align just right. It wouldn’t be long before they could wander into the fields of RPGCity, destroying everything in sight, just like old times. Naar, for his part, was sitting in his tower, clutching his terrible black steel sword. Once his forces had gained a foothold, it would only take a few tweaks to get the rest of the castle into the RPGCVerse…
His thoughts were interrupted at the sight of his blade, still dulled from all its recent use. “Belladonna!” he shouted. “Bring me the oil!”
(More tomorrow. I just need to get the words “Naar” and “oil” out of my brain.)
I think you mean “lack imagination” Gallo (damn those typo gremlins! ) Otherwise, a cool setup so far. (Is that an intentional contrast between Mox and Naar? Hmm.) And I fear to think what’s going to happen to my character once Nyarl gets loose…
:eek:
Wil: Basically, the idea was to contrast the nature of evil amongst both Naar and Mox. Mox’s take on villainy is basically running over puppies with his car, then backing up and doing it again, and then running over the kid. And then burning their corpses. And peeing on them. Because he was bored. Naar does things because they serve a higher plan. If that puppy could potentially be a threat to him, he’ll run him over, but other than that, he simply advances his schemes in the background until he’s certain he’s required.
I know, my writing sucks so bad I can’t get this message across. But whatever. In any case, that scene was for laughs, and because I wanted to sneak in an “Orcus on his throne” joke for years, while also traumatizing anyone unfortunate enough to grasp the innuendo.
And as for Nyarl escaping…well…
Nyarl sneered to himself; he liked where this was going. “Ah…does this involve the death of that cur Martinez?”
Mox, back still turned to his nemesis, rolled his head slightly. “You…can say that. In fact, all your enemies will soon be but mere memories…”
“AH!” shouted Nyarl. “Tell me more! Tell me!”
The undead demon-mage let out a small sigh. “Impatient, aren’t you. All right, I’ll give you the whole scheme, but only if you agree in advance.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t, you’ll be stuck here a whole lot longer.” He turned around on his heels, pulling out a small piece of paper from his coat pocket. Scrawled across the header were the words, “Contract,” followed by a long series of scratches in a long-dead Black Mage language, all leading to a single blank line. “If you want to be part of the deal, you’ve got to sign.”
Nyarl considered his position for a moment. On the one hand, he had no degree of trust for his mortal upstart of a captor. He couldn’t even fully understand the document; so unfamiliar were these non-human Black Mages to him that he had no inkling of their true nature. The base thoughts of revenge, however, quickly overtook his reasoning, and before his eyes, his name was scorched onto the line. Mox looked the paper over, nodded his approval, and put it away.
“All right, now that the…legalese is out of the way, let’s continue.” The mage clapped his hands, and a sudden rip in reality appeared next to him, a shimmering diamond-shaped hole in the very fabric of the universe. Within was a milky picture of the Soul Collective, still partially in ruins from their last battle. “I trust this place is familiar to you.”
“Of course! I depend on its existence!”
“Indeed you do. That is your one advantage over Naar; you can feed your power anywhere, not just in one isolated plane of existence.” He snapped his fingers, and the image shifted to Philemon’s last few moments. Nyarl sneered at his counterpart’s agony, enjoying the spectacle beyond belief. “Now that Philemon’s out of the picture, you should be free to feast upon the evil of all of humanity, completely unwatched.”
Nyarl smiled. Of course he would do so the minute he was free. With his powers greatly enhanced, he could crush anyone that opposed him with but a single wave. Even Martinez would be helpless, and with his obnoxious foe’s death, the mage would have no one to crawl back to. Hell, he could take on NAAR with this!
Mox snapped again, and the picture changed to a split screen; the right half showed the base camp for the forces of RPGC, while the left showcased Naar’s armies in the Plane of Darkness. “Tomorrow morning, the Shadow Gates connecting RPGC and the Plane of Darkness will open just enough to allow our former master to break through. His armies will descend like a locust swarm, while RPGC’s forces will hold out to the bitter end. I actually think they have a good chance, don’t you?”
“Possibly,” said Nyarl. “But in any case, what does this have to do with us?”
“If the situation grows desperate enough, Naar himself will enter the picture. When he does, so will the Kai Lords Lone Wolf and Galloway. Naturally, they will zero in on each other and start to duel. My plan is to interrupt and destroy all three fighters, thereby throwing both sides into disarray and leaving ample room to seize Naar’s throne.” He clapped his hands, and the rip suddenly healed itself, as if nothing had happened. “Any questions?”
“Yeah, I have one,” said Nyarl. “When do we start?”
The mage’s face twisted into a cruel smile, and for the first time in the conversation, Nyarlathotep suddenly felt a sense of horrible unease. “We begin right now. The first step is to open up the Soul Collective so that I may feast on its innards.”
“WH-WHAT?!” screeched Nyarl.
“Of course, if all goes well, this shouldn’t pose a-”
“YOU ARE A MORTAL! You cannot access the Soul Collective!”
Finally annoyed at his “guest,” the mage deftly raised his right hand. A cruel bolt of lightning suddenly leaped out and struck him across eye, practically gouging the cruel instrument from its socket. Now, for the first time in an eternity, Nyarl knew true fear. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with, do you? I have survived thousands of years of pain and suffering, cursed with a suit of armor of my own design. I have been killed and resurrected, each time stronger than the last. I have endured torments that would baffle even one such as yourself. And now, I am going to take what is rightfully mine.”
“Martinez…curse him!”
Another bolt crossed Nyarl’s chin. “You whiny, impudent moron! Why blame Martinez for your own failures! You have had the entirety of your universe’s existence to plot and scheme, to enact terrible vengeance upon all that dared to oppose you. With the evil in humanity’s hearts, you could have even stood up to Philemon, crushed him, and then taken over the totality of existence! But you never took your chance, did you? Instead, you wasted your time with small schemes, none of which led ANYWHERE! And even then, you were defeated at every turn!”
“No…it’s not like that, you-”
A series of crackling beams suddenly enveloped the fallen god’s body, pinning him completely. He screamed as a million little agonies ran up and down his very being, like razors screeching across a man’s body. “Mortal, you were going to say? I may have been that way once, but I’ve changed. Even Naar has evolved over time. You haven’t. You cling to your little desperate vendetta, never realizing the whole time it was YOU that was the problem. Your plots were undone by your own short-sightedness. Nyarlatothep, the god of humanity’s evil, never understood the very mortals he professed to ruling.” A small cackle elected themselves from Mox’s lips. “I love irony.”
Nyarl managed to fight through the pain, exerting himself for what would be the last time. “Human hearts are filled with evil! Hate, malice, lust, greed…I swallow them all! I am the very essence of their being! And you…you are but a very clear example of this! Even Naar knew this. That was why he chose me as a general!”
“And why you’re writhing here now,” finished Mox. He increased the power, once again hurling Nyarl to the ground. “You and Philemon saw only what you were meant to see. Mortals such as humans are BOTH good and evil. That dissonance is what makes us so effective as minions; we have the true capacity for both. You gods are so…locked in your alignments that you cannot comprehend anything outside of your sphere of influence. I loved, I hated, I admired, I feared, and in the end, I became stronger. You could merely hate, and grew weaker as a result.”
Nyarl struggled, but to no avail. His strength was fading fast. “I will take your place. I will become a vassal for humanity’s evil. I have no doubt I cannot contain as much raw strength as you, but I will manage. You see, I haven’t quite extinguished that last sliver of good in me. I can feed off both energies at once, unlike yourself. With my power, I will destroy Naar, unseat him as the God of Evil, and bring about true corruption.”
The former god moved his mouth slightly. “What’s that about a last sliver, you ask? Why do you think I kept you alive for this long? I allowed you to lament, to figure out what went wrong. I even gave you a choice. But you signed the contract, you stated your intention to let me take your position, and in the end, I won. Like I always do.”
A sudden shaft of pure white energy emerged from Mox’s palm, spearing Nyarl’s black heart. Within seconds, the former champion of destruction had crumbled into dust, leaving only a slight stagnation in the air to mark his ever being there. At the same moment, Mox’s body was hoisted into the air, as clouds of black mist assaulted his every form. He screeched and bellowed in pain, but soon after, the same cocky smile returned.
When he finally landed, his entire being was glowing with black energy. His physique has expanded considerably, his arms and legs now thickly muscled in comparison to their previous slender appearance. His eyes were shimmering, even as the same mist continued to rise from every inch of his body. He finally spoke, his voice unnaturally scratchy and echoing.
“I am a God…I am a God!” He leaned back to the cavernous ceiling above, laughing madly all the while.
The entire heavens were suddenly shaken by a small tremor. “What happened?” shouted Tyr.
Suddenly, a red portal opened, revealing a fiery pit. The flames roared as a voice below bellowed. “The traitor Mox has slain Nyarlathotep. He has stolen his godhood!”
Mox continued his reverie, still laughing all the while. “Naar, Galloway, Weiila! Hear me! I am complete! I am ultimate! I am unstoppable! And it’s all thanks to you!” His laughs suddenly escalated in volume, until nearly all of Hel was shaking. “FOR THAT, I’LL GIVE YOU A SMALL GIFT! WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE, <b>YOU’LL BE THE FIRST TO DIE!”</b>
THE END OF PART 123
Next time: Eye of the Tiger
Pretty good, d! I completely agree with your assessment of Nyarl. He was the embodiment of ALL evils- and that includes not only such things as hate or greed, but also such things as pettiness. His obsession with my character was due to that. Honestly, my character only beat him because he found himself in the right circumstances to do it; other heroes could have done it as well. But because he had been the first hero to REALLY beat him, as opposed to just foiling his plans, Nyarl became obsessed with revenge. He couldn’t help it, really. And it eventually led to his final destruction, now. Good stuff.
I still hate your sig though.
You’re never happy about my sigs, are you? There, it’s different. HAPPY?! No, of course you’re not!
Actually, I am. This one is actually funny. 
The Final Saga part 124: The Thrill of One Bite
By you should probably know this already
Morning came to the Black Mage village like it did anywhere else: like a hundred angry winged midgets lifting you via your sheet covers and tossed you forehead-first into your dresser, while the Easter Bunny did unspeakable things to your innards. For Galloway, this was coupled with a feeling of impending doom, as if the Sun God himself was cursing him for his disobediance, and if he didn’t watch his step, he would be fried up faster than a vampire out for a tan. As for everyone else…they were still asleep. Except for Tiger, who was simply shut down, which may count as sleep depending on your point of view.
As the young kai lord walked out of the small guest house, he was greeted by the unwavering gaze of Lone Wolf. The Supreme Kai Master’s arms were disapprovingly folded, his eyes narrowed in righteous anger. “Um…hello, master,” said Galloway.
“You overslept. We have hours of training to make up for.”
Galloway, for his part, was unfazed. “Come on, we can do this. What’s a lost hour or-”
Lone Wolf’s fist slammed into the saiyan’s nose with the speed of a F-1, smashing bone and cartiladge alike and sending the hapless victim hurling about three feet back. Even as Galloway was starting to pick himself up, cursing and bleeding all the while, Lone Wolf’s sword was at his throat, hovering so close the hairs on the back of his neck were sliced neatly in half. “Naar will not show you this much mercy, and neither will I,” said Lone Wolf. “We are not fooling around anymore. We are going to train from this moment to dusk. You will learn what few skills you still have time to gain. And when the day is done, you will return to RPGC and pray to Kai that Naar doesn’t crush you into a fine powder. ARE WE UNDERSTOOD?!”
(to be continued)
Sometimes I wonder if Galloway has got a masochistic streak, given how often he writes his character getting beat up…
:hahaha;
Still, nice as usual, d. 
The rest of the update will be coming next week.
FINALLY!
Overnight, the armies of RPGC had managed to finish setting up a base camp on the outskirting hills. The dragons and flying Digimon quickly took up a routine patrol across the breadth of the land, while the mages waited in a strange séance, their minds open for any potential openings in the universal barriers. Meanwhile, the brains of RPGC (mostly Sin, Merlin, and a handful of people you should probably know by THIS point) were huddled away in a large tent, long-since salvaged from the military operation on RPGC 2. They even managed to hook up that blasted holo-projector.
Sinistral quickly typed in a few commands, bringing up a 3-D geoscape of RPGCity and the surrounding countryside. “Alright, according to Martinez’s information,” he said, “Naar can create shadow gates at the following locations.” He pressed another key, and five glowing red circles appeared, marking an area just south of RPG Town, two caves near the dragon’s territories, and two massive areas around the center of RPGCity. “Xero has already alerted his local forces, so we can consider those areas secure for the time being.” Another overly-dramatic key stroke, and the two red blips turned green.
“RPG Town is another story. It’s several dozen miles away from RPGCity, which makes it a perfect place for Naar to launch an eventual flanking attack. Unfortunately, we cannot commit the forces to secure the entire town, but we can still position a few divisions on the roads leading into RPGCity. Their task will be to hold back any assault coming from that direction, at least until we have the freedom to pursue and retake the town itself.” Another flick of purple prose, and the dot turned yellow.
“Our REAL problem is in RPGCity. We have two points of potential entry, both of which are large enough to cover several city blocks. Evacuations are already underway, but that’s not the issue. We simply don’t have the manpower to secure every inch of those gates, and considering our last defensive stand, I doubt we can truly hope to hold them off long enough. Fortunately, we’re almost ready with a means to close the gates, but until then, most of our forces will be brought in to handle those specific regions.” This time, there was no magic fingers. “Dismissed.”
Galloway and Lone Wolf stared each other down, and then stared some more. Finally, just when it seemed that their master plan for victory was to challenge Naar to a staring contest, Galloway finally charged forward, throwing all the power he could muster behind his lunge. Lone Wolf responded in the most straightforward manner possible, his fist slamming with the side of Galloway’s face in a single, head-on sweep. The saiyan continued his new trajectory, zipping past the Kai Supreme Master and falling flat on his face. Before he could get up, Lone Wolf telekinetically lifted him by the back of his belt and hurled him back and forth between a few dozen trees for about fifteen minutes.
Meanwhile, on a small cropping overlooking the spectacle, F. Galloway, Yellow Tiger, and Loki were watching events unfold, the first stomaching the Diet Vanilla Cokes her male counterpart had brought along, the latter settling for the Miller Lite Kegs he swiped from the Task Force HQ. As for the android, well, she was silently enjoying watching her ex-boyfriend getting utterly pulverized. “So, is this how training usually works?” she asked.
“I suppose, these days at least,” sighed Loki. “Back in my day, when we needed practice, Thor and I would just go out and kill some trolls, screw over some dwarves, fuck a horse or two for some reason, those kind of things.” The two simply stared slack-jawed at the last comment. “Um…it made sense back then.”
Finally, Lone Wolf stopped the torment, just long enough for Galloway’s sad sack of bones to come falling back to Earth. Weiila came rushing out of the middle of the village, in all her holiness, quickly patching the saiyan back up just in time for round two.
The student stared down his master, gasping and cursing for breath. “Wh…what the hell was that for?”
“Do not expect Naar to show you mercy,” said Lone Wolf.
“That…didn’t have anything to-”
“Naar is coming to kill you and your friends. You have to become better than you’ve ever been if you even wish to stand a chance against him.”
Galloway finally raised the Sommerswerd again, his eyes scanning for any possible weaknesses in his opponent. Of course, there were none, at least that he could obviously spot. “If this is about that last fight, I was just off-guard. I’ll be ready this time.”
“No, you won’t be.” Lone Wolf charged forward, swinging his sword in a smooth arc. Galloway swung his blade to parry, but the sheer impact sent the saiyan falling onto the back of his skull. “In the time since you defeated Naar last, you have done nothing with your Kai training. Instead, you devoted yourself to fighting lesser foes with no real style at all. And now, you are paying the price for your sloth.”
Galloway slowly pulled himself back up. “But…I…”
“Ask yourself. Do you care about your family, your friends, your loved ones? Do you wish to let your world rot and burn, all because you would not commit yourself mind, body and soul?” Galloway simply stared forward for a few seconds, before slowly lowering his head in shame. “We are out of time. If we are to win this day, there is only one more option…”
THE END OF PART 124
Next time: The Invasion Begins
Alright, here’s the first part of the next chapter. The rest will be up in a few days. NOT A MONTH, a few days.
The Final Saga Part 125: Beginning of the End
By d_Galloway
RPGC was completely silent at dawn, an unnatural calm before a raging storm. The alliance of heroes awaited the arrival of their opponents, demonstrating a mixture of eagerness and grim fatalism. Within a manner of hours, Naar’s forces would be upon them like descending locusts, devouring the land before departing for the next target. If they were to have any hope of winning this day, they would need a total miracle.
Galloway sat outside Lone Wolf’s hut, eyes downcast. His master was still inside, meditating to Kai for some form of guidance. Blue and White Robe were elsewhere, tending to the villagers or otherwise speaking with the other heroes. Speaking of them, they were most likely preparing themselves for today’s final battle. Whatever was going down, this was it. Either they win this day, survive, go home, fuck someone, have kids, and die of old age, or they get their asses slaughtered by an ancient pagan deity with a grudge a mile long and the ability to tentacle rape anyone he pleased.
Even the saiyan thinking this was put off guard by that last remark.
His thoughts were broken only when F. Galloway sat down next to him, holding two canteens of water. Without so much as a shrug, she dropped one of the containers on Galloway’s lap. “For you, courtesy of her Holiness.”
“I HEARD THAT!” shouted Weiila, far off in the distance.
Galloway simply grunted a thanks, opened the canteen, and downed its entire contents in one gulp. “I saw your training session,” said F. Galloway. “It was…pathetic, yet…dismal. Putrid, yet…degrading. Hopeless, yet…grandiose in its absolute failure to grasp ANY fighting skills.” She would have taken the gag farther, but stopped when she felt her male counterpart’s aura becoming dangerously reactive. “…Look, this has been hard on all of us. Personally, I think Wolfie’s being a little hard on you.”
“He has to be,” said Galloway. “We’re the last of the Kai. We’re the only two that can-”
F. Galloway grasped Galloway’s chin, crushing his cheeks into a deformed chipmunk expression before turning him towards her with the force of a corkscrew. “Don’t start going into this ‘chosen one’ bullshit. We are ALL going in there, we are ALL going to take on Naar, and we are ALL going to send his ass packing back to the Plane of Darkness.”
Galloway pulled free from the grip, taking a few steps back as he did so. “You don’t understand. I have the Sommerswerd, the only weapon that can even damage Naar. Only a Kai can actually wield the stupid thing. Ergo…”
F. Galloway climbed to her feet, taking a swig of her canteen as she did so. She looked more annoyed than that time…well, let’s just say it involved chicken nuggets and the entire cast of Seaquest. “I’ve only known you for two years, and as far as I can tell, we have a small legion of reality-warping sorcerers, plenty of superstrong bruisers, an army of clones, a pipeline to the gods, and a few dozen other little roles here and there. Now Lone Wolf there, when Naar came knocking on HIS door, his people were drunk off their asses, Magnamund had barely discovered gunpowder, and he was little more than an errand boy.”
“WHAT are you trying to say?”
“Nothing, nothing,” said F. Galloway. She turned about face and slowly walked off towards the rest of the village. “Just remember, this is not Aon, or some little backwater planet. Things will work out.”
The battle began with a definite bang.
An enormous shadow gate ripped through central RPGCity, blowing apart buildings and pavement alike in a spectacular display of mindless aggression. Almost immediately, a legion of Giaks, Vordaks, Helghasts, and other terrors charged through the opening, screaming and lusting for blood. What greeted them was a small army of soldiers, armed and ready with enough hot lead to make a Space Marine weep with envy. The rain of bullets tore the invading armies to shreds, sometimes even as they were halfway through the swirling mass of darkness.
Then the second gate opened, just as predicted. Yet another horde marched through, only to be greeted by more gunfire. For once, things actually seemed to be heading RPGC’s way…
From atop one of many ominous rooftops littering RPGC, Mox watched and waited. His body convulsed with pain, the pent-up power building rapidly from being so close to humanity again. He had not exactly planned on his recent actions having such a profound impact on his physique, but that was inconsequential compared to the sheer joy of seeing his hated enemies crushed before him.
Only problem was, they were winning…
Sinistral smiled to himself at the sight. RPG Town was still stable, the Dragons were holding out all right, and RPGCity was safe. Naar was obviously not much of a threat…
Then he saw the third gate open.
A full half hour after F. Galloway’s departure, Galloway was still sitting in that same spot, still thinking the same thoughts. The possibility of actually getting off his sorry ass and doing some practice crossed his mind on occasion, but he didn’t exactly have the willpower to actually follow through at the moment. Besides, something about his female counterpart’s words was still bothering him.
<i>“I’ve only known you for two years, and as far as I can tell, we have a small legion of reality-warping sorcerers, plenty of superstrong bruisers, an army of clones, a pipeline to the gods, and a few dozen other little roles here and there…this is not Aon, or some little backwater planet. Things will work out.”</i>
His thoughts were interrupted by Lone Wolf finally emerging from the small hut, holding a large satchel. Galloway shot to his feet almost immediately, both out of surprise and apprehension at his master’s appearance. The Kai Supreme Master, for his part, simply regarded his apprentice master with a quick passing glance before returning his eyes to the small circle they had created last night. “Everything is ready, Galloway. All we have to do is…”
“Before we start the pow-wow session,” said Galloway, “I have to…ask you something.”
Lone Wolf grunted, his eyes still turned away from the young Kai Lord. “All right, but be quick.”
“Are…the Kai the only things that can destroy Naar?”
The Supreme Master turned about in surprise. Obviously he had not expected something like this right now. “What are you talking about?”
“I mean…my world is different from yours. I’m not Martinez; I don’t understand every little thing about ‘universal cosmology’ or shit like that, but we DO have a small army of superpowered beings on speed dial.”
Lone Wolf motioned towards the circle. The two quickly began to march, side by side. “I understand your position, Galloway, but it’s hopeless. Were this a lower-level god, then perhaps they would win. But the situation has changed dramatically in the last twenty-four hours. All of existence is at a critical juncture with this war, and in the end, we will stand together against the coming darkness.”
Galloway tugged his collar nervously for a few seconds, before suddenly catching even more key words. “Wait…‘we’”?
Lone Wolf let out a small chuckle and slapped Galloway on the back. “Did you really think I would send you in alone this time? I will be there, of course, as will our companions on this little diversion.”
By now, they were standing at the circle. The small clearing was already surrounded by the villagers and their companions. Even Blade was watching, albeit in more of a cold, stoned silence kind of way. Weiila stood at the opposite end, their companions standing at her sides. The circle itself was also changed slightly, with seven stone podiums placed in a pattern around the whole of the space. Lone Wolf cleared his throat. “Everything is ready. We may begin the ceremony.”
Kramer and Crotanks were the first to encounter the third shadow gate’s forces. A small horde of Giaks, their skin smelling fouler than the bottom of the East River, hurled themselves at the heroes, antiquated weapons at the ready. Following them was a single large Kraan, a collection of large black crystals tucked into an overflowing paunch on its rider’s side. There was no backup, no guns to hold these armies off; everyone was still busy working on the other openings.
With only a quick nod to each other, the two turned about face and dove into a nearby ditch. As the first of the Giaks approached, black spears raised for some shish kabobs, Cro leaped out of the hole, balanced on one of the spears, and swung both swords in a wide arc, taking down close to a dozen tightly-packed monsters with a single move. Kramer, meanwhile, vaulted himself over the rim of the ditch onto a nearby Vordak’s head, twisted about in a neck-snapping motion, and made a mad leap towards the Kraan. As Crotanks worked his way through the crowd, his companion barely managed to grip onto the bottom of the Kraan’s harness, all the while dodging the monsters’ madly swinging claws and teeth.
The rider, for his part, was so surprised that he barely registered Kramer swinging upwards and kicking him out of the saddle. The monster slammed into the solid earth like a sack of very mushy bricks, which was Crotanks’ cue to get the hell out of Dodge. Running past the small mountain of bodies he had just carved, he managed to make the running leap onto the Kraan’s back, the monstrosity bucking and twisting madly as he did so.
By this point, Cro was already covered with grime, blood, sweat, and other substances best left unknown. “Alright, we got a ride out. NOW what?”
A single cube was suddenly knocked loose by the struggling Kraan, sending it tumbling into the horde of monsters. The duo could see the object shimmer and shake for a few seconds before suddenly exploding, reducing everyone within the blast radius to a few bloody smears. The two smiled evilly at their new discovery…
Lone Wolf opened the satchel, revealing the recovered Lorestones of Nyxatar. “Martinez and I went through a lot of trouble to get these,” he muttered. “I did not intend for them to be used in this way, but fate appears to have decreed otherwise.”
The heroes moved to the Supreme Master’s sides, each taking a long look at the bag’s contents. “So…what are these supposed to do, exactly?” asked Tiger.
“They contain the power and wisdom of the Kai. They were given to Magnamund by the dragon Nyxatar, found again by Grand Master Sun Eagle, and have been reunited one last time.” He motioned into the circle. “Galloway, step inside.”
The saiyan shrugged slightly and walked to the center of the summoning portal. Without a single other word, Lone Wolf quickly arranged the Lorestones on each of the podiums, creating a formation not unlike a heptagon. With each of the sacred relics in place, the Supreme Master reached back into the satchel and removed the last, previously hidden item: the Book of the Magnakai.
“We will be…attempting to funnel the powers of the Lorestones directly into your being. Your mind will be directly connected to Kai, much like it was during your first battle with Naar. I do not know how well it will work a second time, but in any case, you should emerge more prepared than before.”
“And…if this doesn’t work?” asked the saiyan.
“We go as we stand,” said Lone Wolf. After today’s spectacularly bad training session, everyone was quick to glance around anxiously at those words. “But enough talk. Let us begin.”
THE END OF PART 125
Next Time: The War Continues…
Well, here it is. One of the shittiest things I’ve written in years. Enjoy.
The Final Saga Part 126: Ascension
By d_Galloway
The defensive forces at the city’s center were quickly being shoved back. For all the gunfire, powers, and spells being hurled about, the sheer size and durability of Naar’s soldiers proved far more resilient for the vast bulk of the forces. There was no way of realizing just how MUCH damage that blasted third gate had caused, both to the city’s infrastructure and the heroes’ morale. And with no means of closing the things, the city’s downfall seemed close at hand…
Galloway had expected some sort of empowering, a ritual to bind some of the Lorestones’ powers to himself or to power up the Sommerswerd or whatever. As far as he could tell, these kind of things always happened just before the end, solely so the overpowered hero could engage the equally overpowered villain in a climatic final showdown. In other words, all the stuff the RPGCers had been doing since all this crap started.
What really happened was quite a bit different. The sky suddenly brightened, shining like a thousand fluorescent light bulbs. Beams of sunlight suddenly became visible, crystallizing and shimmering before everyone. The gathered crowd quickly looked away, shielding their eyes from the impromptu tanning booth. Only Lone Wolf remained staring ahead, seemingly unaffected by the changes around him.
The Lorestones began to shine and glow, at an intensity to rival everything else going on. Galloway began to sweat profusely, both from the rising temperature and the sheer pants-wetting shit going on around him. The only thing keeping him from tearing out like a bat out of hell was his desire to finally finish this fight, by any means necessary.
The rays of sunlight slowly converged together, forming a massive shield of focused brightness. The heat grew ever more intense, especially inside the now sauna-esque bubble. Just as it appeared that everything was about to go up in flames, however, the bubble simply exploded, bathing everything in a suddenly cool blanket of white energy. If Galloway was still there, nobody could see him.
Shortly before the battle had begun, the forces stationed in RPG Town were deployed in their designated positions. Every single soldier, mage, digimon, etc. was fully committed to the defense of the pathways leading into RPGCity itself. Unfortunately, the town itself was pretty much defenseless; as Sin had suggested, there was no way to protect both it and RPGCity with their meager armies. He didn’t even have enough manpower to stage a full evacuation; about three-quarters of the populous was still in the vicinity, trying to find some place to hide from the oncoming storm.
When the dust cleared, all that remained were Valkyrie Esker, Gemini, kirokokori, Rio, and about three squads. Esker was busy studying the maps, plotting out their best position; kiro, meanwhile, was busy scouting out something to blow up. Only Gemini was actually wandering around, checking out his old haunts before they would be buried under a sea of dark armies.
The tense silence continued for several more minutes of packing and planning…until Gemini finally spoke up. “So…why are we running, again?”
Esker sighed and rolled her eyes, not even bothering to look up from her maps. “Sin’s orders.”
“But…don’t you think this is a waste?” Gemini pointed towards the distant skyscraper: the RPGC Television Station/Tower. “Give me thirty minutes, and I could give everyone the most accurate reports imaginable.” He pointed towards the only entrance in town. “We could easily set up a defense around here. The enemy won’t be expecting anyone here; we could just crush them as they come rolling in.”
“And what will that accomplish? Things have gone to shit in RPGCity. We’re needed there above anything else.”
“But…”
Esker spun about, her fist slamming into Gemini’s jaw. The chains of her gauntlets ripped at his flesh, drawing a small amount of blood. The mage simply reeled around and stepped back, kiro quickly rushing to help support him. “Do you think I really like this? Do I really want to lead everyone into a death trap? Do I WANT to leave everyone in this town to die? No, I don’t! But we have a job to do! RPGCity’s protection is more important!”
“Um…Val?” said kiro. “I…think we should at least use the station.”
“What do you know, you brat?!” Kiro ducked behind Gemini, sobbing gently. “I haven’t survived for a thousand years by taking advice from children! Now, get in the-”
“If we’re going by age, I think I still outrank you,” said Gemini. Val slowly walked towards the mage, Gungnir readied. “I have a few thousands-year-old monster living in me right now. He’s the one that told me about the tower.”
”Monster? I take offense to that.”
Gemini quickly chose to ignore the Phoenix’s latest remarks. “If things have really gone to hell, then that means Sin’s gonna need all the intel he can get his hands on. If we can just hold out long enough to get a feed to him, he might be able to find a weakness.”
“But…that…”
“I’m with the unholy abomination,” said kiro. “If we can get that thing working, we might be able to turn everything around.”
“And since I have no say in this, I can stick around,” said Rio.
Esker looked around for a few seconds, eyeing the determination in everyone’s eyes. Finally, she let out a wearied sigh. “Alright. Squads one and two, start setting up fortifications around the town entrance. Squad three, look for a back way out of here. Once that tower starts up, we’ll need to beeline it out of this shithole in a hurry. Gemini, you take the kids and start working on that tower.”
Galloway continued to wander through the endless white void, searching desperately for some other kind of life. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally got his answer: the mighty form of the moon goddess Ishir. There was no sign of an obvious entrance, either; the all-mighty being simply faded into existence, seemingly pulling apart the emptiness and reassembling it with but a thought. The whole spectacle brought back memories of last night’s little run-in with Kai…and filled Galloway with dread.
“Fear not, Kai Lord. I am not here to smite you. Not today, in any case.”
The words did little to relax Galloway’s guard. “You gave me that tape. You knew Kai was behind everything this whole time. And you…you let him and Naar fight out this blasted war. Why?”
“It was a necessary evil. I never wished to see this level of destruction; alas, it was necessary for Aon’s survival.”
“And…how does Aon’s well-being concern me?”
“You already know of your world’s importance. Had Kai or Naar conquered all of Aon, they would have an army great enough to wage total war. Remember, we are of the Old Gods; no matter how many reincarnations, our power will always engulf those of our offspring. If either were unopposed, it would have tipped the balance too far, and the gods would be at war once again.”
Galloway sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead in frustration. “So…you were using both Kai and Naar for billions of years, all so they could not destroy some little universe that didn’t even exist back then.”
Ishir waved her arms; above her, the white space split away, revealing a picture of the great planar universe of Aon. “At first, yes, I was freely manipulating both. However, things grew out of hand.” The image changed to a picture of a massive, blob-like creature being cast into a flaming pit by a golden warrior. “Naar’s forces were defeated, and he was banished to the Plane of Darkness. From there, he twisted and manipulated every world. I was forced to ally myself with Kai to prevent Magnamund from being destroyed.”
“I know Lone Wolf disrupted Naar’s schemes, but…how do I factor into this?”
“After Lone Wolf’s ascension, we needed a means to distracting Naar. Kai and I managed to hide some of his power on another world, weakening him enough to desire to seek it out. This led him on a path to other dimensions.”
“You…sacrificed entire worlds to save Aon?”
“It was not enough. We had to stop Naar once and for all. There was one problem; Lone Wolf was ascended, and thus could not fight the dark god immediately. We needed a new Kai Lord, one destined to defeat Naar, if only temporarily.”
“And…that was me.”
“We planned everything in advance…save for Kaizer’s genetic manipulations.”
Galloway hung his head lower than ever before. “I…I don’t know what to say. All this time, I’ve been someone’s plaything.”
Ishir touched Galloway’s chin, pulling his face back into view. “I am sorry, but…all this was necessary. There was no other way to bring about order. I have a compromise, however. Aid us this last time, and we will find a way to change your fate.” A smile spread across Galloway’s face at the words.
The light dissipated, restoring the sight of everyone in the Black Mage Village. Galloway still stood in the center of the circle…and at the same time, something was different. His body was surrounded by a light gold aura, his eyes a completely blank white, his posture more slacked and relaxed than ever before. With trepidation, Lone Wolf approached his young apprentice. “Galloway. Galloway, are you all right?”
Galloway slowly lifted his head, his unnatural sight locking onto his master’s face. “Master Lone Wolf. Ready yourself. There is war to be waged.”
THE END OF PART 126
Next time: The Battle of RPG Town.
One of the shittiest things I’ve written in years.
I’m starting to believe Gallo has had his ability to appreciate things inverted. In which case, beware if he ever says “You look good today!” :hahaha;
But on to the story:
I really need to read up on Lone Wulf one one of these days. The first time Gallo brought it up, I thought he was talking about the Kais from DBZ!
I love the way d mixes his similes from the epic to the prosaic, as with “Galloway began to sweat profusely, both from the rising temperature and the sheer pants-wetting shit going on around him.” 
The scene with V and Gemini was both very good characterization AND it projected the desperation of the situation very well.
Am I the only one who imagines Ishir in the form of Cosmos from Dissidia?
The thing about dealing with Cosmic Entities, is that you can never be sure if what they say is true, or if they’re emotionless bastards playing with existence. (Or, if we were in their places, we’d do the same or worse. Heavy stuff, man…)
in general, I liked this chapter. Things seem to be moving towards the (epic) climax. Can’t wait!