Rise of Evil IC

[KuroKishi]

Charles sighed softly as he ran a hand through his hair, moving slowly through the wasteland. The trek would most certainly take a few hours, which wasn't the problem - the problem was how he could get to Washington DC's safe zone. He could join a convoy as a private guard, so he would earn some extra currency or favors and have a better group to travel with - however, he could never work to defend the weak, since he was a fighter, not a protector, and he would be lost in his bloodlust and will to fight if he didn't get at least semi-attached to them.

He could also use the underground metro and travel to Prowess Station, which was only two kilometers away from Washington's safety center - then again, he had made the mistake of going by himself once, and even with his abilities, he had barely made it to the other side, having to revert damage for the second time to a large part of his body - his entire left arm, which was torn from a large reaver demon and had thankfully bought him enough time to escape. The mental trauma he had gone through, though, had made him not brave the passage by himself at all costs.

Lastly, he could do like head planned from the start - either find a good car, or hire a fast travel cart, with which to reach the city in only an hour at most. Vehicles often brought a lot of danger with them, though, since they were loud and the fumes irritated demons to no end. Plus, if he had to pay, it would definitely be a loss, and if he was unlucky, he could lose all the money he had fought so much for - though the favor was what he did it for, one needed a basic amount of funds to survive in this barren world.

 

"Damn it... I'll have to think of something when I get to the bunker." The young man grumbled to himself, wishing he had a way of relieving stress right now. However, cigars were not only a rarity, but they were hazardous to one's health and were addictive. He couldn't bother himself with something like that, so he simply turned to his left and slammed his foot into a nearby wall, increasing the cracks on it. Then, he put his leg down before spinning around, slamming another kick into the hard surface. With a satisfying crack, the weakened wall moved, then fell apart into chunks. Charles was not the type to only use his Demon Arm - he was well-trained from all the time he had to deliver blows on people without restriction and knew not only where to hit, but had the muscle to do so because of his tough lifestyle.

A sudden rock moving in the distance caught his attention, making him drop his leg down and focus his gaze forward to see what it was. Though the dust kicked up by the sudden crash had made a dust cloud around him, he clearly noticed a person's figure through it. The young man waited, letting the dust settle down, so he could better see who it was. Then, he lifted his hands to dust his clothes off before wiping it from his eyes in order to spot the person. There, between the few walls and rocks, Charles could see her - a young girl, maybe a year younger than him, with weathered, slightly tattered clothing and a strange thing on her back. Though it was very faint, in a way, she reminded him of himself in the few days he had been outside of the safe zone's walls. Though the main demon forces were slow, there were stragglers and hellhounds which moved far quicker, reaching deep inland while the demons had barely hit most of the foreign shores and were starting to move farther in. He had to fight off the beasts seemingly at random, travelling quietly down an alley in one moment and furiously stabbing a hellhound's head with a makeshift shiv the next. All in all, without his current weapon, Charles had taken care of over 10 demons and had helped in the killing of an Alpha.

"Hey!" Charles spoke out as he made his way over the rubble around him, jumping and vaulting over obstacles in front of him. She had been travelling for a lot of time and would definitely need some help. Even though he was calmly approaching the girl, hands in the air to indicate he is only here to help, he was actually thinking furiously around.

She most definitely looks the part of a person lost in the wilderness... but how did she survive for so long without a safe zone? Did she travel? I cannot see a weapon on her... though the thing on her back might have one inside. Why... why does she remind me of that time, though? Her eyes... she seems familiar... The thoughts spun around, creating large webs of confusion in his mind and making him wonder about what she reminded him of - however, he had no time to wonder, as she was in need of help.

"Here, have some water," Charles said as he crouched down next to her, grabbing his canteen from behind him and holding it out toward her. He stood at a distance, making sure to respect her private space and still show respect. He hadn't gotten any treatment like that in his life, which made his gaze sad for a moment, before he turned back to her, a confident yet friendly smile on his face.

"What's your name?" The man suddenly asked, deciding to try and get to know her better without picking a too sensitive topic for someone he'd just met. His gaze quickly surveyed her clothes and body, checking for wounds, but returned to look at her eyes after a quick moment without noticing anything so she didn't think he had anything dirty in mind.

[Melomancer]

Icarus put his hands to his face, removing the gas mask. He smiled nervously at the girl, not wanting to stand up in case she panicked and stabbed him. "Business? You selling anything?" He tilted his hand backwards and blinked about three metres back, hopefully out of reach of the weapon. Getting up, he decided to introduce himself. "I'm Icarus. And, well, don't get pissed off when I say this. I was sorta stalking you through the city to practice my stealth skills, I didn't mean to surprise you like that, just happened to land there trying to break my fall." He moved the gas mask towards his shirt and started wiping the lenses. "Anyway, it's nice to meet another human, instead of seeing another one of those ugly demon mugs. What's your name?"

 

As he spoke, he glanced at the sword, getting nervous. If he got attacked, running was his only chance, his weapon wouldn't be able to go against a sword, especially if it had any powers he wasn't aware of, like most demon arms. He looked around discreetly and spotted a pile of rubble. He could blink to there, jump, and blink two more times into a building. He could escape from there. He relaxed slightly. It was always good to have an escape route planned out.

[Clown_of_God]

At first, Mina had cowered into a feeble position, hands and arms shooting to a defensive posture on the side the man had approached. Of course, she gave herself time to respond so that it seemed like she was registering it was a human that had approached her and not a demon. Keeping her arms in the same posture, however, she spread them enough to look through at the man before snatching the canteen from his hand. Without hesitation, she gulped a good bit of the water down before letting out a sigh of relief. Clean water, no matter where she had traveled before, was a rarity in this world. With the filtration systems down and the dust filled air, most of the water had been turned to muck. Bottled water was a heavily sought after item that could lead to war in some states, but the main cities still had their reserves and back up systems. Did this man come from one of the main cities?

Looking him over, now that he was closer, with her crimson eyes there was something about him that seemed familiar. Especially his face. Some odd years ago, there was a boy that had been housed in the slave camps and had finally allowed Mina to rest. Of course, the method used left her with a sore jaw, but she felt relieved when she had finally regained consciousness the next day. If this was indeed that boy, then she would have to pardon his demise since he aided her that time.

Taking a few more sips of the water, allowing the cool liquid to relieve the scratchiness in her throat, Mina replaced the cap on the canteen and handed it back to the man and sat down, stretching her legs out in front of her and sighing pleasantly. It wasn't as prominent, but if this were the person she was thinking of, this was the second time he had relieved her in this cruel world. Suddenly, the man asked of her name and she tilted her head to the side, pondering whether it would hurt to give her real name or supply a fabricated one in case she was still being hunted. Mentally shrugging to herself, she straightened up and leaned back on her arms and looked into the sky.

"Mina. My name is Mina. My group was attacked by demons several days ago and I was the only one that managed to get away. Since then, I've been looking for a safe place to stay. I've also been looking for my big brother."

If it gained his trust, she would use her search as a means of information to form a misleading identity. If she were still being hunted, there was one thing that everyone knew about her. Mina didn't have family and that she had been a slave. How they knew this or why they did, it might have originated from her time in the Hell Reaper guild, but it didn't really bother her. It was just more incentive to watch them suffer and drown in their own blood.

[Dragonhatchling]

What seemed almost like a soft growl escaped Arethviil without her caring. She'd met a few other people who did that. Sure it was strange, but it wasn't beyond their doing. She smiled shortly after though, seeming to relax slightly.

"Name's Lyra. And yes, perhaps I've got a bit that might interest you..." She looked to his Demon Arm, nodding to it. "Especially with that." She showed her stock only for a moment to prove she had it, before putting it right back where it was and locking eyes with him if he should try his tricks again.

 

But her sword relaxed. Arethviil seemed much more calm as she had been before, and much more friendly. "It's said to help Hunters. Or really anyone hunting demons... which, with that- you obviously are." She was conducting business again and slowly gleaning information from this new client during it. Spending a few years on the streets certainly helped matters.

 

But her eye caught the weapon again. She recognized it, though she made no show of such a piece of information. "So tell me... how'd you come across that? Teleportation comes in handy I'd bet." A bigger smile appeared as she teased a little. "Especially to any of those 'demon mugs' you might've found."

[KuroKishi]

Though he wasn't suprised by how the girl had reacted as soon as he had approached her, Charles was glad she slightly eased up and watched her as she drank from his canteen. His eyes were focused on her face and facial features, seemingly trying to grasp at straws in order to figure out just who she was. Her blood red eyes, her black hair, the posture she had in that brief moment... it all reminded him of that one girl which he had put out of her misery - at least, for a day. As she stopped drinking from the canteen, he turned to look her eyes, not noticing that she had turned to observe him, too. Thus, the two sets of red eyes met for a brief moment, exchanging a glance at each other before continuing onward. Flashes from his past filled his head, returning him to the same girl, the same moment... that single act of disobedience and bravery...

His gaze went down as she went to return the canteen to him, her hand holding it out. Nodding softly, the young man took the item before once again attaching it to his belt. He was slightly confused at how calm she had turned after that, having stretched out her legs and turning to look at the sky, but as long as they didn't sit for too long, they'd be alright - plus, though he was tired, Charles could take out any lesser demon, be it a horde of weak ones or even a demon reaver, within minutes, and then revert any sustained damage with his blade's ability, so he'd be fine. He sighed softly before deciding to join the young woman, taking a seat next to her. He leaned on his hands, turning to stare at the sky just as she did, and let his legs stretch out and enjoy a moment's rest.

 

"Mina. My name is Mina. My group was attacked by demons several days ago and I was the only one that managed to get away. Since then, I've been looking for a safe place to stay. I've also been looking for my big brother." She had spoken after his question, making him raise an eyebrow in confusion. He didn't really remember anything about the girls he had been forced to hurt, his captors only letting him know little details such as one being a 'feisty vixen', the next a 'little princess', the next a 'selfish cow' and so on. However, he did remember something... unique about this girl. His eyes shut slowly and he focused, attempting to find what he was looking for in the back of his memories. Then, it came to him. They had called her a 'lonely kitten, left to fend for itself', which told him she was an orphan.

"If, and this is a big if, I'm right... then, you're the one I met back in North Dakota... with those pathetic, ruthless and savage excuses for men. Don't worry, I know they're looking for you, but I'll be the last person to think of betraying you, after what both you and me went through..." He suddenly spoke out as he opened his eyes, turning his head slightly to observe her with both eyes. This was a possibly long shot, but he'd risk it - if it didn't work, he had nothing to lose.

"If you're the same girl, then no, you do not have a brother... not even a relative, if I'm not wrong..." He continued, sighing softly as nostalgia settled in, though the feeling was not of a good type. It was a feeling of disgust, of anger, of desperation. The memories were bitter and hard, but he had forced himself not to forget. No, he wouldn't forget the ones he had met there. They were the only reason he had started to fight - to destroy the ones who had ruined their life yet had survived into this hell. At least here, no laws stopped him from breaking them, destroying them with his own hands and crushing them into a unrecognizable pile of flesh.

"...How many did you get by now? I got only one, but I'm working on getting information about a couple others... Also, it's nice to see that, well... it's nice to see you alive here, Mina." He spoke out, honestly clear within his tone. He had truly felt alone in the first moments of his escape and guilt nagged at him to return and try to save others, but his body, his instincts, all told him to run since he was not ready. Then, the Apocalypse occured, and the once large responsibility for their safe return to normal life had turned into strong regret for not having saved them earlier. Now, at least, he thought he had someone to share his pain and take revenge with. Charles sighed softly as he drew the canteen, opening it slowly and taking a quick sip to quench his thirst before shutting it again and replacing it on his belt. Then, his head turned once again to his left, but watched the sky and waited for an answer.

[Clown_of_God]

So, this was indeed the boy who had aided her all those years ago. Striking her down while she had been grovelling, scorned by the men that had abused in various ways and then thrown in a cage like an animal to be beaten even further. If anything, it had toughened her physically, but she had already broken mentally. They had done horrid things to her, some things were obvious and didn't need any sort of explanation, but they had also tortured the girl. Strapping her down to a table, the men slashed at her back until she passed out, whipped her until she fainted while foam seeped from the corners of her mouth. One of the worst things she had experienced, and can never forget no matter how hard she tries, is the time they strapped her to a chair and cut off a toe every hour. This had thrown off her sense of balance and led to many months of painful relearning how to walk without falling. It had been long after this that she had encountered the boy, who was forced to beat on the weak against his will, and was finally put to rest after a weeks worth of punishment. Now, he was in her presence once again and didn't have the slightest idea of the person she had become.

So, as much as she wanted to confirm her identity to this, now, young man, there was a task she needed to accomplish and by confirming her identity she would eventually mark herself. Instead, she raised an eyebrow as if inquisitive about the person's remark. Leaning forward, she pulled her knees in close to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

"I don't know who it is you're talking about, but my brother thinks I was killed by the demons several months ago. We were travelling in a caravan coming from Arkansas when we were separated. I think from his angle, the demon that was near me had been my ending, but it was actually a man just out of view. Of course, I had been terribly injured at the time, a raid group had stumbled through in search of loot, but found a few other survivors and myself instead. We were brought back to DC where, after several months, I received notice of someone resembling my brother, doing great things somewhere around the DC area. So, I hired a group to help look for him. As I already told you, we were ambushed and I just barely managed to escape. I don't know if anyone else made it, but it's been several days since I've seen anyone."

 

((Short post.))

[Melomancer]

Icarus looked at the object, intrigued. It sounded pretty useful. Lyra seemed to be friendly, and as probably wouldn't attack him now. Smiling, he let his guard down and relaxed. "It's nice to meet you, Lyra. So how does that thing work? I just finished a job, and I was on my way back to the city to cash it in. If it turns out to be useful, I'll probably buy it. Anything to help me kill more of those demon scum." He kept wiping his lenses, before replying to Lyras second question.

 

"I found it. Quite a long time ago, I was just exploring, scavenging for anything useful, and pretty much just trying to survive. While wandering around, I found what looked like a battleground, with demons everywhere. The floor was soaked in blood, squelching under my feet whenever I walked..."He shuddered, remembering how terrified he had been. Blood usually got him unsettled, and he used to be afraid of it. Even knowing it was demon blood, back then, his absolute hatred of them had not yet appeared, and he somewhat felt pity for them. He looked up, realising he had paused for quite a while. He continued his story. "Anyway, in the middle, there was this dead demon. He was huge. About ten times my size, he was red and wearing this really thick, black armor. His hands were still grabbing this sword, about half his size. Under it, there was this guy wearing a hood, he had this in his hands." Icarus lifted his demon arm, showing it to Lyra.

 

"Anyway, it was pretty obvious he had killed all the demons. They all had holes in their neck, heart or right through their brains. He suddenly woke up and gasped. Scared me half to death. Of course, he couldn't get up, the sword was right through him. He was pinned to the ground. He spoke to me. He just lifted his weapon, said 'Scorpions-sting', and dropped it. I just took it and ran." Icarus sighed, remembering that day. It had been terrible, his shoes were completely soaked with blood. At the moment, he despised demons and would enjoy seeing their blood fill a swimming pool. But back then, he had almost screamed.

 

[Thaelasan]

Hello, everyone. Yes, I know this is an unexpected meeting. I hope no one here was busy or anything. I just thought there should be something said after what's happened.

Well, first things first - welcome. I don't know if you've been properly accepted or not yet but don't worry, we'll get you when we can. Some of you here have already been brought into our ranks. Welcome. Some of you just showed up to see what was happening. Welcome. Some of you followed your friends and family out here just because. To you as well. Welcome.

In case some of you aren't aware - which isn't unusual with what's been going on - my name is Gareth Victor. I'm currently the head of this guild, the founder. I'm going to avoid saying things like leader and boss because that's not what I'm trying to accomplish here. I didn't make this guild because I want people to push around. I made this guild because I felt it was what I should do.

Before all of this, I was just a simple guy living out in the country. I had no real goals in life. No real decisions. In fact, I'm pretty sure I was just going to live out my days, jumping job to job, existing as best I could. I had no aspirations. People told me I had potential but never told me what to do with it.

Pretty helpful. Yeah.

I had a sister. She was a kind, beautiful girl. I used to have to fight off guys who lived near us because they always tried to hit on her. Yeah, I was that older brother. Didn't really appreciate people who just saw her for her face or body. You can tell, you know. They didn't really like "her."

We supported each other. We lived. I had a pretty idyllic life, even though I didn't know what to do with it. At the time, I didn't really appreciate what I had. I mean, I understood that I had it better than most but I never truly respected it.

When this war started, sure I was scared, like everyone else. You may be thinking that that's crazy. This big guy? Yeah. Size doesn't really matter when your enemy shoots flames.

Still, I knew I needed to do something. At first, I wanted to join a Destruction guild, go cause those guys some pain. I wanted to get them back for what they'd done. My sister refused. She wouldn't let me go. She made me come with her. I thought she was crazy until I really understood what we were doing.

So, there I was, Gareth the giant in a big Creation guild. My sister was there too, of course. We had friends. Instead of fighting, we talked and crafted. My size made it easy for me to haul around demon parts for work. We did well. We built weapons. We built armor. We were the first group to develop the barrier generators too.

We were famous and grew in size. For a while, I felt like I had found my purpose. I was happy.

I want to relive that feeling now. I don't want to forge a guild of leaders and followers. I want brothers and sisters. I'm not going to ask for much. I only want your help. I want this guild to become a family like my old one once was.

Someone asked me earlier today: Why a Destruction guild? That's a pretty large change from a Creation. Well, sadly, I didn't finish my story.

You may have noticed my sister isn't here today. She died in that guild. Not just her either. A large amount of those I called friend fell as well. The name of the guild was Spes Incipiens. Yes. A lot of you know what happened. It was a tragic event.

For those who don't, suffice to say that we made a wrong choice. No, contrary to rumors, it wasn't a generator explosion. We decided to use the body of a behemoth to forge weapons stronger than any that we've seen today. We failed to realize that the demon had a brother and that that brother sensed his sibling's body. That he was filled with vengeance.

He found us. He destroyed us. In almost an instant, everything I had worked for and loved was taken from me. My closest friends. My new family. My beloved sister. They were gone. I lost more than most could handle to lose. A lot of survivors couldn't stand it. I haven't seen many of them since.

It took me a bit to come to terms with it. After I killed that ***, I realized just what I really had to do. I couldn't just build weapons - I had to use them. If I wanted to protect what I really loved I had to do things that she didn't want me to do. She's probably disappointed in me. I accept it.

That doesn't mean I want revenge. I gave up on that. I fought a horde of demons, wishing for death. I'll admit it. But it didn't change anything. It won't. And it never will. I was never a person to grieve for long anyway. It also didn't hurt that I had some help from my godfather, the priest over there - Father Charles. He made me understand that it wasn't all lost. I felt like a new man.

Still do.

Yes, it may sound callous but her death doesn't hurt me anymore. I think it would have hurt more to think about it than to let it go. If she had seen me sitting there, mourning her, she'd have punched me. She wouldn't want me to cry over her forever. That's not what Allia was like.

But don't let my story guilt you into joining this guild. That's not why I told it. I want people who think along the same lines as me. Those who have and who haven't lost loved ones. Those who want to defend what they still have. Those who have something to protect, be it family, friends, pride, or even themselves. We are a guild who doesn't slay out of anger or vengeance. We do it because we know it must be done, until it doesn't have to be done anymore.

It may sound silly but it's how I feel. I hope I'm not the only one. If you want to follow me, then know this - we're not staying in Washington D.C. for long. We're heading out, out into the dangerous lands of those who wish to force us into bubbles. We're going to set up a city out there, in that place, and prove to those demons that we will no longer be pushed into corners.

Yeah, it's probably a stupid idea. Yeah, we may die. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised. I'm not going to make any of you follow me. But for those who do, I will never fail you. I will fight for you. If you put your strength at my back then I will be your wall. If you place upon me your hopes and beliefs, I will be a tower. As long as a breath remains within me, I will use these hands not to kill for sport but for a calling.

Since joining a guild is a promise that you will help those around you, then I will make you a promise: you will not die while I still stand. Not a single man or woman shall fall when I am there. If they attack you, bring them to me. If they strike you, they will feel my blade. I have seen enough death in this world. I don't want to see any more, so I won't allow you to die before me. You have my word, as much as it means.

I'm heading out tomorrow. Those who go with me don't have to say anything. You don't have to tell me who you were before this. I don't care what you've done or haven't done in the past. I only care about what happens now. What happens today. If no one follows me, then I will do it alone.

Now that I say it out loud, it sounds like a crazy idea. No one has been outside the barriers in years. It's a foolish idea. Even the largest Destruction guilds act more for the defense of the cities now. But that's not how they once were.

The older people here may remember the guild that once did what I'm doing now. That man who walked out into the abyss and started his own settlement. He survived for two months, living out there, by himself. He said he did it because he was tired of being caged. He wanted those demons to see that he wasn't afraid of them anymore. He did something we thought was crazy and he did it because he felt it was right.

That's why I'm doing it now. If you're going to join my guild, then leave everything you know behind. If you need a demon arm, I will give you one. If you pledge to me your strength, I will give you everything I have. I am not your leader. I am simply a man with a dream of a brighter future.

One where there is no longer any despair. Only hope.

Hey.. that's not a bad name for the town...is it?

Hope.

 

Gareth Victor. A speech to young recruits outside of the Guild Offices before the March to Hope. September 8, 2143

 

-----

 

Gareth stood by the pools for a little while longer after Zulf left. For some reason they seemed to bring him a sense of calm now.

The pools used to frighten him, just like everyone else. When the apocalypse had begun, it was an unspoken rule to avoid those if you wished to live. That's where the demons went and where they took up residence. They became nests. If you smelled smoke or felt immense heat, you were to walk the other way. If you found lava, you just had to pray to some higher power that you hadn't been seen yet.

If you managed to say your prayer, it was most likely that you hadn't. After all, you would have been dead by then.

But now, after what he knew about the demons and what he still wanted to learn, that fear had been replaced by natural human curiosity. Gareth had always been a curious individual, just like his sister. In school, he had loved technology and science. Anything that had to do with research and development got him intrigued. That's why the Creation guild had given him so much pleasure during its glory days.

But then he had come to understand that it was also necessary to apply such knowledge in these dark times. He had a brain and a pair of hands. He had the tools needed to help the world more than he ever had before. Instead of making him fall apart, his sister's death had pulled him together. It had opened to eyes to what he had done and what he should do.

She had refused to let him have anything to do with those Destruction guilds. Like many, they had been told that Destruction guilds did nothing but go out, fight demons, and die. They were said to be the place for those that had nothing else to live for. Go ahead. Run outside the barrier and see how long you last. If you're lucky, you'll die quickly.

She had pulled him into a Creation guild. During those great times, she had met her fiancee, a man who Gareth had come to call brother. Gareth had been proud - a man who he finally deemed worthy of her hand. She was happy. He was happy. Life had seemed like a dream that he never wanted to end.

Now, it was almost that again. Though Allia was long buried, her funeral an event that Gareth remembered vividly, her spirit and dreams lived on in him. He knew she'd probably be disappointed in him. She was like Ezrea, in a way. She worried about him, constantly. When he got in fights because of his size, she'd chastise him and get angry. But he had needed something like that. To him, life just happened. You did what you could do and if you couldn't do it then you did something different. If it was something bad, it was bad, but if it was good, you clung to it with white knuckles.

To her, though, every day of her life was an adventure. She treated everything like something beautiful. Even if the outcome was bad, the things leading up to it may have been great. Even then, you could still make something good out of it. Gareth had tried to do that when he was younger but he always managed to make it worse.

He'd come to blame it on his size. Before he had matured, he'd had larger fingers than he could handle. He wasn't fat at all. He was just tall. Without muscles, he looked very lanky compared to most. But he had been a hard worker when he was younger and had grown into his body over time.

Precision work was his worst enemy. His sister did that for him. That's how it had always been. It had been worse because of his desire to become an engineer.

They laughed at him, his peers, back when he had been in high school. With his huge hands and clumsy mannerisms, delicate work would have been almost impossible. He had almost believed them but his sister had continually stated that he would grow into it. One day, he'd be able to handle his movements. He'd been given a body too big for him. He needed to grow into it.

It'd always been funny to him, too. No one could believe they were siblings. Because of their grandmother on their mother's side, she had ended up barely reaching his chest. He had been 6'5 by the time he was in his freshman year and then he had pretty much stopped. She had stopped when she had reached 5'1 in middle school. She'd been taller than everyone else and then had become the shortest girl around. Of course, this had made her extremely cute - she was already fairly attractive as well - so most men of her age always tried to hit on her.

Though his sister was trusting, Gareth knew better. He couldn't count the number of times he had found her, surrounded by men, trying hard to get out of the mass. But then he had shown up, his eyes narrowed, face grim. Within almost the span of a few seconds - after he kindly informed them he was her older brother - they would disperse like a flock of frightened pigeons. His love life was filled with women asking her about him because they were afraid to approach him themselves. She'd tell them about him in detail. But in the end, his size and demeanor made them simply give up. It suited him just fine anyway.

She'd always get mad at him saying they hadn't done anything. Later, though, she had thanked him when she had gotten older. He had become her shield. That had been his favorite thing to be.

He smiled a little bit now, remembering various moments where she and he had just tried to live life. It'd never really hit him how much she had loved him. She'd always tried to be around him. In the end, though life was a crazy sort of thing, they could depend on each other for anything.

That's why, when she had died, he had finally realized just how much he had needed her just to feel like he had something to live for. He was her protector and he had failed. He had let something happen to her in front of his eyes. At the time, he had been furious, unable to believe himself. He had beaten himself up and spent days out in thought. He had killed demon after demon but nothing had made it more bearable.

Then, he had come to understand that it just wasn't worth it. He needed to live on. After a week of mourning - which everyone found unusual - he had come back to life better than before. Without her, he had to think for himself more than ever before. He had to use his abilities for everyone, not just one person. He now would defend everyone else as he had done for her. He was large. He was smart. He could do things that no one else could do. He would do them.

He had then begun building a new guild, a new family. He had gotten his old friend, Charles, who had helped him through his depression to start over again. Together, they had gathered those who had similar desires and brought them here, to Hope.

Of course, he had been slightly awkward at first. He had wanted to lead a guild. What's more, his first action as leader had been to take a bunch of people with little experience out into the Wild - the land beyond the barrier.

They had mocked him. Called him a fool. He had expected it. For some reason, though, he couldn't let it go. One day, he had simply stood up in front of the Guild Recruitment Center and called for those with his beliefs and dreams to join him for that grand excursion. Those who had mocked him had finally seen his conviction. His speech had managed to win over 60 people. Men, women, and children who wanted to live life again, outside of the cage. Who wanted to see the world beyond. Who wanted to make the demons see what humans were capable of.

That number only increased. When Gareth had finally stood next to the exit of the barrier, the guards moving aside to allow him past, he turned and saw 150 people ready to leave with him. There were old people. There were infants. There were men and women armed with weapons like rusty pipes and dull knives. They were tired of their current lifestyles. They wanted a new home.

So he had given it to them. As he had promised, he had led them across the Wild to no particular destination as September had just begun. It had been chilly and they had to rest in order to keep themselves warm. Demons had struck. Yet, as all of those people watched, Gareth had marched to meet them alone. He had swung his blades in a dance of defense, not a single spell or sword touching any member of his group. Circles of bodies would cover the area around them but not a single one had entered the zone where the people had been.

Then, he would simply pick his bags back up and continue on, and they would follow. With every battle, their faith in him only increased. He walked with only a single goal in mind - freedom. Freedom and hope.

Yet, far behind him, unbeknownst to him, a young, red-haired girl three years his younger had followed the group. She had watched him take down those demons. She had had no weapon or true purpose. She had simply seen them walking out and had decided she would follow. She had nothing else to do anymore.

And that was the first time Ezrea had seen Gareth in combat. That was maybe when she had decided he needed someone to keep him in line, to keep him from doing crazy things like this all the time. But she also needed his enthusiasm, his desire to live. She, who had lost her close comrades and family, needed someone to lean on too.

That was how they had finally come to this great clearing, as if some higher power - or maybe even Allia herself - had guided Gareth to this location. It was perfect. Grass still lined it as if fighting against all odds to do what they were doing - exist, in this broken world. The flat ground was perfect for farming and growing food for themselves. With a firm resolve, Gareth grabbed a pole from one of the members of his small army and shoved it deep into the dark earth. He then took from his backpack a flag, drawn with the symbol of a rising sun cut into two halves. One half of the flag was surrounded in blades and war, the other in scenes of families and living. For the first time, those who had followed him knew the name of their guild, and whispered it among themselves. With great enthusiasm, it began to grow into a great cheer that went out across the lands beyond.

Dichotomy of Deliverance, the two sides of the light beyond. The family devoted to achieving peace and hope by any means necessary, even if a blade must be raised.

From there, the guild had almost become a machine. Without even receiving much direction, Gareth and his group had set up supply lines, begun building and raising homes, and dug up sources of fresh water to grow crops. Within the span of two months, on Thanksgiving, the self-dependent Guild finally stopped the supply lines and used its own, grown food in order to feast. Gareth's dream had become reality. His life now truly began again. That night, he made an extra glass of wine for Allia, to thank her for all she had done for him while she had lived.

Only a few days later, the hard-headed Ezrea and the gentle, protective giant Gareth had finally been wed before everyone else. So much happiness in such a short amount of time. Gareth had believed that he had truly helped Hope to live again. Even if he were to die now, he had done too much to be forgotten. He had given people a reason to fight again. Not for hatred but for those they loved and trusted. Demons had joined them and now lived among them. This was a sanctuary.

Of course, the town had only grown from there. Gareth remembered vividly the continuous flow of settlers from barriers far away who had teleported to Washington in order to come here.

But he couldn't forget, of course, his chance meeting with the demon who had made him understand that they could also be just as good as humans: Zulfiqar. The demon had stumbled into Hope one day, completely undeterred by the sheer amount of people who walked around on a daily basis. When they had finally discovered he had even come INTO the town, he'd already amassed a horde of items from several homes. But Gareth had noticed that he hadn't hurt anyone physically nor had he left the town. He had simply sat down with his horde and slept. He'd only been found because he'd decided to set up residence in a barn, which explained - to him - the smell which had annoyed him as he had fallen asleep.

His strange sense of humor had only made Gareth want to be friends with him even more. With Zulfiqar's introduction, more demons came into the town, confused. They hadn't bared weapons or bad intentions. They had simply been allowed to enter.

With Zulf's help, Gareth then managed to erect an improved barrier over the town and brought it better electricity. With it, they would be able to survive the winter in comfort and begin doing even more to live as a community. Communication with the cities of the barriers came as well. Zulf's help had done much to aid communication between demons and humans as well. It hadn't been hard for demons to learn human languages. They didn't really have one of their own so picking it up by hearsay hadn't been hard at all. It didn't hurt that they also had a bit of magic of their own.

Zulf had learned it the fastest and had taken complete advantage of it. His vocabulary was full of both intelligent and confusing words and he strung them together with as much vigor as his voice could muster. The more words he learned, the more baffling and humorous his method of conversation became. Gareth could not believe how the demon actually saw the world. But he enjoyed it. It was a welcome confusion.

So, the lava pits now, after all he had been through, symbolized a new beginning for him. He could stand by them safely. He could enter them as he pleased. Children could - if they actually wanted to - walk around here and play with the beings themselves. In earlier times, they would have been afraid to even sense them nearby. But now they frolicked and played with them just like they were older brothers or sisters. Most of the demons liked children because they were friendly and playful.

Zulf couldn't have been more irritated. He'd made it a strict rule that children couldn't enter his area of the pools. Of course, that rule was never followed. So, he'd emerge from his pits and walk into Gareth's home covered in children, demanding they be removed immediately.

So, of course, it hadn't been much for Gareth to make Zulf a nice, little gift now and then. Since Zulf had liked the horn bands so much, Gareth thought he may make some more things like that in the future.

He finally stood fully to his feet and walked out of the heat of the pits, going up the stairs that separated the East Town from the Fire Caves. They were, of course, on a lower elevation than the town. A fence had been built around the Caves to prevent people from accidentally falling in. A lot of people at first had began the rumor that "we've put the demons in zoos now!"

Gareth had kindly informed them that they could join them in the Fire Caves if they so desired but the demons had been informed of their words as well. They really wanted to meet them.

The rumors had stopped very, very quickly.

As Gareth moved among the townspeople, taking a few side paths that weren't as congested, he felt at peace like he always did. This was his life's work. His great accomplishment. Yet it was also the accomplishment of everyone here. He had done what everyone had thought to be both insane and impossible and he had done it for nothing other than the fact it was done.

He'd gotten married. Helped demon and human relations. Assisted in the development of even more territory for living. He'd have to send a message back to Washington D.C. when they were done that there would be more room. That meant more villagers. More trade. The city would get even bigger.

He didn't have to work hard to find Zulf once he had discovered how to look. Though the demon covered his tracks with great scrutiny, he had a habit of letting off heat every now and then unconsciously - especially when running. So, all you had to do was feel for the really hot air that the demon left behind when he moved.

Gareth could tell the demon had been quite pleased. As he approached Charles' modest home (which, of course, was attached to the Cathedral they were still working on), the heat only became stronger. He found the demon staring into a mirror with a look of pleasure. Charles, however, was sitting at his desk with a look of pure confusion and slight annoyance.

"Normally, Gareth, you would get some form of warning when someone was to enter your study, you kin?" Charles said, his accent stronger with Irish form than usual. "I don't mind guest but could ye at least warn me so I could open a window? It's unbearably hot."

"Free heating, courtesy of Zulfiqar Air Incorporated." Gareth joked. "This winter's biggest craze. You're getting the first try."

"That was funny. Can we please cool it down at least the slightest bit? And why didn't ye bring him a mirror ahead o' time?" Charles adjusted his glasses. He had been reading a book from his study. A fresh glass of some sort of beverage sat beside him. Knowing Charles, it was probably tea or something mild. The man was a teetotaler that made the Pope look like a drunkard. Even being in the same room as something remotely alcoholic made him excuse himself until it was gone.

Gareth, of course, understood why (( though, dear reader, you will unfortunately not hear about it now because it's not very relevant at this time. )) and simply made sure Charles knew what would be served at what event.

"Zulf. Buddy." Gareth stated, bending over a bit. The demon was large compared to the average person but to Gareth he was still only chest height when he was on all fours like this. Gareth found it sort of funny to him that he'd become friends with a large demon when he was so big himself. They were a good fit.

"I don't mind you enjoying my gift but please try to let Father Charles know you're going to barge in. It's not a problem this time though." Gareth assured, smiling. "BUT! Now that you've seen them, I hope they're suitable. I let Ezrea look at them and she approved. Of course, she didn't approve that they were going to be given to you. She thinks I'm too charitable when it comes to you and says I need to start making you earn the stuff you scavenge. But, if every man listened to their wife in everything, marriage wouldn't be as fun, would it?"

He grinned broadly before standing back to his full height. He then turned to Charles.

"He'll probably be more careful in the future." Gareth said, shrugging. "Anyway, did they send us anymore mail after our reports?"

"They said the same thing they've said for three weeks now. They said they don't have the materials right now to help us build a proper lab here. Personally, I think they're just jealous, Gareth." Charles said, smirking. "You bested all of the other Destruction guilds and made everyone else begin to doubt them. A lot of people left them early on to join us after Hope was built. I'm sure they're trying to stop the Creation guilds from helping us out any more. In fact, they're probably the ones taking our letters. We're better off trying to find the materials ourselves.."

"Well, that's something else I can work on then. Ezrea won't like it though. She'll give me the old 'let someone else risk their lives finding things for once. They don't appreciate you enough.'"

"Be careful. You're starting to sound more like her than you may be trying to." Charles chuckled, turning back to the bookshelf to retrieve another book. "On another note, a few of the local boys just came by to tell me that someone recently walked into our little village."

"We weren't... expecting anymore settlers until this next expansion... I don't even think we can fit more."

"Don't assume he wants to live here. He was covered in blood and looked as though he'd been through hell and back - though I don't doubt he almost was out there. Even in winter, certain demons still have hot-blood for battle."

"I'll go meet with him. Do you know where he is?" Gareth said, preparing to leave.

"Well, you WILL." Charles said, looking out the window a bit into the distance. "If I'm not mistaken, there's a body-shaped mass laying in front of your front door and your wife is pointing at it. Oh, yes, she's confused. Now she's trying to decide what to do with it. It's doubtful she'll scream for help, right?"

"Charles.." Gareth began as he started to run out the door. "I wish you weren't right about that! She'll probably try to hide him!"

"Thank goodness I was there to see the crime before it even took place! Father Charles. Priest by day, private detective by night, aye?" Charles said to himself as Gareth ran out the door. After a moment, he turned back to Zulf, sighing.

"I'm not sure which of you both is more excitable or rude. Neither of you closed my door either.." Charles rubbed his forehead in slight irritation. "Don't you realize it's cold as the treacherous ring of hell out there?"

He stopped for a moment, then cocked an eyebrow.

"I suppose those ornaments do look somewhat attractive. You'll have no problem wooing the female ... whatever species you are ...s...." he waved his hand dramatically as though to make the words come to his mind. "I don't think we even came up with a form of name, did we? You wouldn't happen to have one, would you?"

He turned back to his book, exhausted by the recent events.

"No. I suppose no one would besides me. Gareth may think himself a researcher but does he take actually accurate notes? Of course not. The boy was never properly taught the methodology of proper data collection! It was an oversight by his educational authorities that I still despise with a fruitful passion. Such potential for learning and developing but he can't even properly record what the (excuse my words) hell he discovered in the first place. Oh it's great that HE knows, but what if he were to (heaven forbid!) expire during one of his campaigns?! A literal plethora of valuable informational tidbits lost to a broken battlefield, unable to return to us! The sheer amount of things we don't know about generators is an insult in itself. But when I ask him, does he tell me? No, he tells me he'll do it later. When is later, Gareth Victor? Do you forget who helped raise you when your father and mother were out working late? At least give me the common courtesy of providing me an explanation for those damned glowing light, if anything! They look pretty important to the entirety of the constructed device! Or are they just for show? Why does it even need lights anyway? What is it saying is functional? The phosphorescent emitters? That's glorious! Lights that say the lights are on! Brilliant display of ingenious craftsmanship! A marvelous, beautiful testament to redundancy! If I'm wrong about it, tell me why I'm wrong!"

He finally stood to his feet, his seeming monologue rant having brought him to a frustrated peak. He turned quickly to Zulf, pointing.

"YOU! Don't you think that's just the madness of a genius, if, indeed, he could be called one with such neglect for actual procedure!? How are we supposed to improve upon the design (and I bet we could make it even more efficient, you mark my words) if we don't even comprehend or fully understand (at least) the methods by which it is achieved?! He's probably told you before, hasn't he!? He never even explained to me how he makes your blood do ... DO THE THING THAT IT DOES!" he slammed the table in obvious annoyance, as though trying to make it leave him. "I don't understand demon arms, demon blood whatchamacallits, and I CERTAINLY don't understand that big, complicated, but obviously important contraption which sits upon the hill behind my own domicile! Don't you think that's a rather unnecessary absence of information?! You probably don't even care, do you? Are you even listening to me? What does it matter. You can live life without ever knowing how that 'thing you stuck your tongue into that made it go numb' actually made you experience that undesirable sensation in the first instance! You just know it's 'bad'! But it's the desire to actually understand WHAT made it cause that sort of feeling in the first place! It's excruciating, Zulf!"

He sat back down in his chair. For a long moment, he did nothing but breathe. Finally, he turned back to Zulf, frowning.

"I apologize for burdening you with my unnecessary worries, Zulfiqar. Sometimes, Gareth just gets to me with his unchained lifestyle."

 

------

 

Indeed, Ezrea had found an unconscious, male figure of some note laying prostrate on the ground in front of her door, his body covered in what appeared to be demon blood from various sources. It may have actually been a worse shock considering she had just woken up from a very nice nap and seeing individuals laying on the ground and looking like they may be dead isn't as nice as the nap was.

In most cases anyway. Some people are unique. Ezrea was not those people.

At first, she tapped him with her foot, expecting some form of prank. After all, this was far too unusual to actually be an event that happened naturally.

Right?

She was then horrified to discover that the man was not responding, even when she kicked him harder than perhaps was necessary. Then, it was time for her to decide how to react with this information.

Screaming was not a viable option. Ezrea had never screamed in fear or shock in her life. That wasn't what she did. That left her open to having men come and attempt to calm her down because it made them feel superior - just like when they take their dates to scary movies.

No. She would not do that.

Well, she supposed, as she collected herself more, that she would need to see if the man was actually asleep or dead. She leaned down, placing her fingers to the man's neck and wrist.

Ok. There was a pulse. Now people were beginning to look over at her, faces showing obvious confusion and concern.

Yeah. She felt that too. Perhaps even moreso. She really didn't like those looks though. Of course, she said to herself, these people didn't think SHE caused this man to end up like this, right? Why would she do this to a guy in front of her own home? Besides, if it were an actual crime that she committed, she'd make damn sure the body was hidden. Thankfully, she wasn't that sort of person.

So now the decision fell as to exactly WHAT should be done about this man. Should she bring him inside? What would Gareth think? Wait. Hold on. Why would she care what Gareth thought? If she brought a man into the house - which she would most often never even wish to do - that was her business and hers alone. Oh wait, he could think she was cheating on him.

Well why would he think that!? She shook her head furiously, trying to clear her thoughts of such foolishness. Such things were petty. God, what had marriage DONE to her? She was an independent woman who needed to make a choice that could save a life! She had no time to worry about appearances!

And, if she did save him, surely Gareth would be pleased! Hah! She saved a man before he even knew he was hurt! A valiant rescue!

She smiled at the thought. Then she shook her head again. More foolish, distracting thoughts that she didn't need.

She leaned down and attempted to lift him. She immediately realized this would not be easy. She had lifted men into the air before - normally while furious at them for multiple reasons - but not men covered in slight bits of armor, heavy cloth, equipment of various note, and.. was that a sword?

She looked down, her fingers touching the hilt. Immediately, she drew back. For some reason, she had felt a strong sense of unease when she first laid her hand upon it. It was definitely a demon arm though. This was no normal, unconscious man. This was an armed, unconscious man that now seemed very dangerous to allow into her home. That sword HAD to be stronger than a Rank AA. Even she knew that and she didn't bother really learning a lot about them anyway. Oh, Gareth had tried to tell her all about the infusing process and the basic methods of transfer in regards to ownership when the previous owner.. blah blah blah. All she needed to know was that it got the job done and it made damn sure those demons thought twice about continuing to fight her. That's all she really needed. Besides, she was the tactician now, not a soldier. Demon arms weren't really needed in the strategy tent.

Well, she supposed, she may need to learn about them after all. It would help in situations like this. Gareth would be more than happy to repeat himself if she asked a little more nicely than usual... ok, if she asked at all, to be honest. She had to admit, sometimes she was a bit too rude to him.

MORE UNNECESSARY THOUGHTS. She slapped her face slightly. Well, now she looked even worse to the people already staring at her. Good job, Ezrea darling.

"Ezrea?"

She quickly stood to her full height, face stern, trying hard to act like nothing had happened at all. The man slumped back down from where she had been attempting to lift him, his face landing a little hard back on the ground. She winced.

"Who is this strange man in front of our home, Gareth!?" she said, immediately taking the offensive so that she could TRY to regain SOME of her dignity. "A friend of yours? Is he drunk or something? And why is he covered in blood?"

"I was worried that he had tried to hurt you. Thankfully, he didn't." Gareth laid a hand on her shoulder comfortingly and then turned back to him. "So, did you check him for identification or something?"

"Uh... no.." Ezrea said, sheepish. Damn, he had done it again. He had completely ignored the bite in her words and simply avoided the question while still keeping face. That irritated her to no end but she also loved it. Why?

She sighed, her arms crossed. Now that Gareth was here, some of the onlookers pretended they hadn't seen anything. Gareth was a trusted official. If he was kneeling next to a body - especially with his wife looking on with her serious gaze laid on him - it was obviously not something of illegal note. Hopefully.

"Well, he doesn't seem to have any ID on this side. Honey, help me roll him over, please." Gareth said, placing his hands under the man's chest and stomach.

"I don't think touching him is a good idea." Ezrea warned, backing up a bit.

"It's fine. He doesn't have any corrosive poison on him or you would have smelled it by now. Also, he probably wouldn't have any skin. That's a good sign." Gareth grinned slightly. "Now come on and help me. This guy may be in serious pain."

"You are asking me to lay my hands upon a man. Have I not told you how I feel about this sort of thing? I'm sure I have." she said, both angry and slightly disgusted. "Dear, I'm sure you're strong enough to do it yourself."

"Well... I could but I would end up having no support on his lower body and it could end up opening any wounds he may have on his stomach or legs. Come on. He's unconscious and if he tries anything, I'll gut him for you so you don't get your hands dirty."

"You said that with such nonchalance that I'm actually afraid." Ezrea kneeled down next to him, sighing. She reluctantly placed her hands right above the man's knees and below them. She then turned to Gareth.

"Quickly please." she said firmly.

"As you wish!" Gareth flipped the man over before Ezrea could even try to help. The man was safely upon his back now, his face only covered by slight bits of hair.

"You didn't need my help at all." Ezrea narrowed her eyes at him, now furious. "You did that on purpose! Why did you DO that?!"

"Because we're married and also-..." he leaned forward. "If people knew about your problems with that sort of thing, those that don't like us would take advantage of it."

Ezrea turned to the crowd, confused.

"Like who? And why? And...you're already checking his body I'm going to back up now." she said quickly, moving backward a good foot or two. "If he suddenly explodes and demon things start coming out of him I am LEAVING you I SWEAR."

"As long as you're safe, honey!" Gareth called back, continuing his work. For some reason, this man's face was nagging at him. It seemed... very familiar. Why? It was clawing at his brain now, desperately attempting to bring a name to light. Gareth's eyes suddenly widened.

He back away from the man, moving to stand next to Ezrea. He placed his right hand firmly on her shoulder. Terribly confused, Ezrea looked at him with worry. This.. this wasn't normal.

He didn't speak for a while. She didn't either. Finally, he looked into her eyes, his face grave.

"What? Is he actually about to explode?" she said, trying to lighten the mood. "...What is it?"

"That man is one I once called my brother. He's the one who my sister loved more than me." Gareth cast his eyes back upon the man's body, his face unreadable. "Saraph, her fiancee. My best friend."

The two stood there for a long while.

"We're bringing him inside." Gareth stated. For once, Ezrea didn't try to stop him. In fact, she was still blinking. She'd never heard anything about his past - she had missed his speech - and had no idea who this man was. In fact, she only vaguely remembered him mentioning a sister and that had only been once or twice. So why would he be so serious for this? Just what exactly had happened?

Still, as always, she would not ask. Their silent agreement was not to question each other's pasts, nor anyone else. Though they were married, their lives before the armageddon didn't really mean much now. So, she would wait until he felt like he should tell her. If, indeed, he did.

She watched him carry the man inside and followed him as he laid him upon the couch. She closed the door behind them, silent.

"Well, I suppose he's going to want something to eat when he gets up." she sighed, rubbing her hand through her hair exasperatingly. "And, since you're lost in your own mind again, I'll do it. Don't worry about it. Don't complain if he gets sick though. I may just throw some dirt in there to make sure he's nice and awake."

As she walked off, Gareth took a seat across from the couch, his head in his hands.

"Allia, did you bring him to me? What do you need me to do?" he whispered.

He didn't need to look at Saraph's sword either. He knew it was him. The sword only proved it to be a certainty he was almost completely sure of.

The man sitting before him was one he had begun to think dead, the only one he had ever allowed to be near his precious sister, and the one who had watched her die with him.

Only his eyes and Gareth's own had seen her death. Only they knew what had happened that day in the Guild Hall of that once, great legend. Only they had watched her body and blood hit the ground without so much as a sound, the hand of the behemoth Gol'tar ending her life within the span of a moment.

A moment that hung in the air like a tragic thread that had just been cut.

Edited September 19, 2014 by Thaelasan

[Neutual Demon]

Zulfiqar heard the leader meatball walk in, catching a glimpse of him in the farthest top corner of the mirror since his head took up the rest of it. He suppressed a surprised jump at the Fathered One's voice coming from the side- when did he come in here?- but he couldn't hide it from his fires as they flickered to a lime green for a second. That probably didn't help matters in the room for the humans, as the older, chewier source of fresh meat complained about the heat that the demon radiated. That was another thing the demon had idly noted over the course of his stay in this fire hazard- his presence seemed to be the only one that caused issues concerning heat for humans. None of the other demons were complained about for their radiating excess heat, just him. He didn't even feel the cold, unlike the other demons who couldn't tolerate it for very long before dragging themselves back to the lava pools. It was something he would never have noticed if he hadn't gone romping through the human world and became acquainted with them.

The large-horned demon turned his attention fully to Gareth, resisting the urge to wrinkle his muzzle at the sight of Gareth leaning down slightly to be more at eye-level with him. It was quite demeaning for a HUMAN of all things having to look down at him. Most of the other humans were at head height or shorter than he, but Gareth had to be a monster in human standards and be taller. Although Zulfiqar technically was taller, but only if he was actually standing on two feet- something he had gotten out of practice due to tiny doorways, faster entrances and escapes. He couldn't sneak up and pickpocket someone with his tongue if he was towering over them at his full height, so he became predominately four-legged. Even Gareth hadn't seen him standing upright, and he probably won't unless he somehow got into a rumble with another demon in a show of superiority. Smaller demons felt high and mighty until they found a demon much bigger than they were. Sometimes all it took was to draw up onto full height and roar at them in order to cause them to run, but sometimes one had to do that AND beat sense into them. So far the demons present in this stick town had more sense than others Zulfiqar had met.

The stray wonder of how tall was he actually in comparison to Gareth was brushed aside as he grappled onto the end of the one-sided conversation Gareth had been doing, merely blinking at the human in silent, false agreement to...whatever what was just said. Luckily he didn't need to answer as Gareth and the Fathered One began to talk about someone or other and Gareth's mate and then the tall meat leader was out the door again in a rush.

Zulfiqar turned his pupil-less eyes onto the Fathered One, tilting his head to the side as the human questioned if he even had a name for what he was. Well, that was a curious thought. Zulfiqar hadn't thought of it before, because he never needed it. Demons were demons, according to humans. Subspecies was almost foreign to them, but now that they got stuck with half a dozen or so living under them, it was obvious that demons were not the same. They had different abilities, different looks, different everything and demons with similarities often grouped together. His "kind", in fact, were... if he remembered correctly, "pack animals". They were not known to do what Zulfiqar did- wandering away by himself.

Zulfiqar smelled the human's frustration before he heard it, sitting down on the floor as he watched the human blow up at him. Well, he did have some points. To demons, if something was important, vitally important, there was more than one demon who knew about it due to the fact that if that one demon died, the information was lost unless stumbled upon by mere chance. Yet such a thing required...reliance on another... a concept that demons were poor to understand. Most of the time the information was beaten out by higher ranking members, leaving all the information in the hands of the omegas. It left possibly dangerous information out of the claws of idiots who would probably blow themselves up than get anywhere, but it left all the power in the claws of a collected few. It made Zulfiqar's head hurt trying to wrap his mind around the complexity of it.

The demon was dragged back into the rant as the human suddenly rose to his feet, jabbing a finger in his direction. Zulfiqar's animalistic face began to draw into an affronted look as the Fathered One dragged him into his argument. The old leftover meat was making him sound... stupid! He wasn't, damn it! He kept his tongue behind his teeth, though, until the human vented enough steam off. He remained silent even after the human collapsed back into his seat, the scent of frustration dwindling down slightly before he apologized. Which blew right over Zulfiqar's head. Demons did not understand the concept of forgiveness and apologizes very well.

"Outlets," he stated slowly, his eyes and fire flickering to a vicious violet. "That thing I stuck my tongue in. It's called an outlet. It's a device that one connects other devices that require lightning to function. Lightning comes from generators, and it travels by thin-strung metal. Lightning does not react well to organic material. If I was human I would have been seriously injured if not dead, but my blood is metal, so only the flesh was affected. I think I may have absorbed the rest of it, but who knows?"

But he wasn't done yet, though, the demon's eyes glinting darkly. "Even I don't frickn'n know that the hell my blood does. It made little difference to me, nor has it been noted of its strangeness before I came into this world. I have been taking mental notes of how wrong it is. Gareth says it's purer than any other he has seen, and I am inclined to agree with the two-legged meat leader. My observation with your human metal brings me to the conclusion that it is pure because it boils at a much higher temperature than any other demon, so much higher in fact that it leaves very little impurities left to clog it up. I am assuming that this fact, along with its relatively slow cooling compare to other blood, that it does not fracture or flake apart like so many others. He does not "make my blood do the thing it does" because from what I understand from the idiotic rambling he told me earlier, my blood contains abilities that I have not known previously nor have access to that leads it to be such a powerful defense mechanism that coincides with the generators. This may be because I have not reached my maturity, and my strange power over my blood will evolve and become apparent once I become what you humans call "an adult"."

He let out a small huff, smoke curling from his nostrils. "And if you're so damn prissy over Gareth, corner him and tell him to tell you for the sake of this matchstick city. For if he dies, the information dies with him, and all the damned work he's done to keep this place from catching fire will burn to ashes since none of you half-brained poor quality meat producers have any idea how the hell to keep things going in his absence. He'll get all sentimental and mopy and will probably tell you out of righteous guilt. Also if you're so cranky over the heat, you should frackn' told me so!" With his words the fire on Zulfiqar's back dimmed, then flickered out of existence in a small puff of smoke, leaving nothing but fur in its wake. His eyes still glinted violet though, glaring the human down. "I'm not stupid. I don't like it when you barely edible morsels treat me as such. I listen and mostly understand. I'm just... easily distracted." No, he was not sulking as he forced himself to "cool down", his eyes melting into scarlet.

"I will let you name me," Zulfiqar stated after a moment of silently eying the human before him. "Name my... species or whatever... only if you...assist me in understanding the squiggle containers. Also, a word of advice- get yourself a mate. Seriously, all that pent up energy's getting to your half-empty head."

[Dragonhatchling]

He was interested. Good. But ever cautious Arethviil wasn't about to fully explain what her special stock could do. "There's two components that, if put together are said to enhance human ability and make them fight even more efficiently than a large dose of adrenaline and a Demon Arm can give. It doesn't come cheap, as this is insanely rare and exceptionally hard to get. I assure you." She whispered somewhat in case anyone decided to listen, but her tongue still held the sharpness of a good seller. She didn't sense anyone else really taking an interest on the street. But her phone beeped, signaling one of her contacts had found another client. She ignored it. Icarus was her client currently- she wasn't going to show him disrespect for another. Especially since he was new.

 

The girl had definitely left out that the concoction of the two vials was more likely to kill a human than actually help them. Demon blood and her own special formula were of high demand lately, and she had been the only one to provide a good source of it which was why she had been so skeptical when Alex and his sister had been provided some to sell. Someone had been trying to undermine her and she wasn't going to forget it.

 

"Scorpion-Sting looks pretty useful. Your story on how you got it was quite the tale." Arethviil smiled a little more fruitfully, glancing from Icarus to the weapon and back. It was pretty amazing, though she had seen it before once.

Her face got serious, and somewhat more skeptical again. "You mentioned going to collect a payment..." She paused, thinking it over. "Perhaps I could tag along too? I can be very helpful myself if you've wondered." She made acknowledgement to her sword again slightly before putting it away completely to prove she meant him no harm. "I've fought many demons myself too... though I doubt anyone really remembers me." She chuckled a little. Only one Guild might really truly remember her.

[Melomancer]

"Woah. That seems useful, I could use that. My demon arm is pretty deadly, but as you can probably tell, I'd probably get my arm sliced off if I tried to go against a sword with it. How much is it?" Icarus stood still for a moment, imagining it. He imagined himself running around, pumped with adrenaline and stabbing demons while ducking under swords. He grinned, remembering an ancient video game he had found in his Great-grandfathers basement before the apocalypse started. Assassin creek, or something. He couldn't remember the name. He had tried it for a while, and gave up because he sucked at it. But he remembered the guy with the small blade running around, countering and slitting the throats of guards. He imagined doing that with Scorpions-sting. His smile widening, he nodded enthusiastically.

 

"Yeah, sure. We'll go collect the bounty, and then I'll buy it. I'm getting excited just thinking about what it does. Is it permanent? I mean, is it an object, or something I have to eat? And does it last, or does it fade after a while?" He turned towards the city, trying to remember the guy he had taken the job from. He had mentioned meeting up in a building marked with a red can of spray paint to collect the reward. "The guy said to meet up on a building marked with red paint. I don't think it'll be that hard to find, so we should get going." Icarus pulled the straps of his gas mask, re-fastening it to his face. Looking back at Lyra, he slowly walked towards the city. "C'mon."

[Dragonhatchling]

Arethviil barely shook her head as she listened to this young boy who was all too eager to try what she had. She considered him foolish and wondered if he really should have it. But, he was taking her to a bounty, which meant money for her and possibly a hint on to where she was supposed to originally go.

"It's not permanent and you'd have to mix the two together and drink them..." She walked next to him steadily while trying to think if she should inform him of everything else. "I suppose you should also know it's highly addictive... hence the raised demand for it. Though it doesn't help the ingredients are hard to come by- as I've mentioned." She still left out that it could kill him. Probably would even. It was rare that she found someone who lived from this, though there were a few and those were the ones who kept coming back to her. But one by one they began to die off too. There wasn't a choice. Eventually the concoction would kill you. How many it took to do so depended on the person.

 

"I also mentioned before that it's not cheap... but we can discuss the price once you get your payment and go from there." Arethviil looked around, remembering any buildings she knew had red paint on them. There were a few. "Did they specify how much red paint? Like a splattering... a shape... or the whole thing painted? Symbol maybe?" She was curious. Her own house had some red paint from a cruddy paint job the drunken neighbor had tried to do to the front of her home.

[HellFireSouLess]

Saraph entered a dream state as he was asleep. Everything around was dark and unknown. He he took two steps before seeing a light heading his way. The light looked like a human figure. At the same time it felt soothing and calm. As the figure got closer Saraph began to make it out as a woman. It was Allia. Saraph ran to her for he wanted desperately to see her again, hold her close, and be next her. she was the only that he loved. He had Gareth as his brother figure. To Saraph he was grateful for that. Yet, Allia was the one thing that calmed his inner beast. Ever since the demons attack hatred and revenge was all he ever knew. Then he found Allia and Gareth. Allia was the soothing remedy. Gareth was the wall to stop him when things got to out of hand. Allia stood still as her lightly colored blue hair waving. Yet, there was no wind. Wearing a skirt that went down to her knees and a tank top. Saraph still wearing his combat pants only. When Saraph got to her. He held her close and tight to him. Allia hugged him back. Saraph had tears running down his face both in his dream and in the actual world. For he was calm for this moment. All the pain and suffering that he had been through was erased from his mind. He looked into her deep ocean blue eyes. Pressing his forehead against hers. She stared into his emerald green eyes. Saraph did not want this moment to end for he finally like him again.

"Saraph what is wrong my love?" Allia asked him.

"I tired...tired of all this fighting. All I want is to hold you." Saraph said lovingly with tears running down.

"I know my love." Allia said kissing him.

Saraph felt so alive. He remembered this feeling from long ago. His love and passion to be with her. He remembered every Friday they would go to a hill in Washington and stare at the landscape. The landscape was soothing and relaxing. As if you were in a plain surrounded by many flowers each of a different color, the gentle breeze of the wind brushing against you, and the sun not wanting to scorch you with its rays. The both of them would always go there to get away from the world and be in their own. They would always wrestle with each other playfully, cuddle, and just be to people in love.

"Allia I want you back more than ever. I know we are here but..." Saraph could barley finsih his sentence as he began sobbing.

Tears of pain and heart felt sorrow flowed down his face. He dropped to his knees in front of her hugging her legs. He wanted to feel this way back in the actual world. Feel alive. Feel like him again. Not having to kill every single demon he came across. All he wanted was his love back.

"Saraph look at me." said Allia lovingly.

He looked at her. His eyes widen in horror. His heart began beating faster. She was a dead corpse now. She pale with blood all over her face. Saraph arms dropped from around her lags. He slowly began to crawl back backwards.

"No please no." said Saraph with sweat dripping down his face.

He woke from this dream. Breath heavily and fast. he looked around the room to see where he was. to see if there was anyone in the room. His sword laid next to him and turned back into pistols. He started to calm down now. He saw that his arm was wrapped and bandaged. His back did not feel sore anymore. He then looked to a man sitting on the couch. Saraph noticed the gauntlets on his hands. It was Gareth that was sitting on the couch.

"Gareth is that you?" asked Saraph wondering what his reaction would be like.

Saraph was on sitting up in the bed that he was in. He did not know what else to say at this point. Much less how he would tell Gareth that he is sorry about everything. He felt burdened by Allia 's death. That he felt it was his fault for her dying. He was suppose to be there for her, not let her die.

"Gareth forgive me old friend. For what happened a year ago. For her dying, for not being strong enough to protect anyone, and for leaving. I did not know what to do when she died. I felt so...so..." Saraph could not finish his thought.

Reminding himself of the isolation he put himself through. He would walk the streets alone, walk in shadows to hide himself, and always visiting her grave. Hoping and praying that she would return. Somehow, some way. He would always bring her fresh flowers. Fresh calla lilies. Symbolizing the love he has for her.

"Forgive me."

Edited September 19, 2014 by HellFireSouLess

[KuroKishi]

At first, Charles was seemingly happy, knowing that he wasn't alone. His regrets about not being able to save even one of the many he'd left behind were slowly fading away, instead becoming a larger sense of hope for redemption on those... savages. But after hearing the next words of the girl, his gaze suddenly went dark, and he remained silent for over a minute. Time slowed to a crawl as the once lost sensations burst back into his being, returning the pain, but tenfold. He could feel how his heart hurt, how his muscles tensed, how the amount of pain he felt once was now washing over him like a large wave...

"...From Arkansas, eh... I'm terribly sorry, I just... you seemed so familiar there, for a second, that I... well, I had to try my luck..." He mumbled slightly, his voice faltering from the strange feeling which welled up in his throat. She looked like her, but she had denied the claim... though he wanted to believe it was a farce and she was just joking, in the end, those words had made him lose every feeling of hope he had gotten.

"Your... your pain... I'm slightly familiar with it... I'm sorry... that you had to go through something like that. At least... at least you weren't a part of what I went through... back then... heck, my suffering was only a small part of what the ones who had been there the most was... but I felt sick, dirty... I felt horrible once I escaped..." He continued, his voice turning ragged and soft as he felt his eyes starting to tear up. However, he wouldn't let himself cry now - he had done more than enough of that when the Apocalpyse started and he was left hopeless, knowing all of the lives which deserved to live and had been instead lost to those beasts.

"I see... I really am the last one, then..." Charles suddenly spoke out, having been sitting there silent for over two minutes. His once happy face full of friendliness and hope had been utterly crushed and turned into a visage of darkness, of desperation. Having escaped that hellhole, Charles was suddenly thrust into yet another, literal hell on Earth, but the only wish in his mind was for him not to have been left alone. He had cried and begged for days once the Apocaylpse had occured, wishing one of them had survived, or just to meet one of them, even if it was in their last moments here, alive... and now he had let his emotions take control of him so easily that he had said something he wouldn't speak to almost anyone to a complete stranger.

But who could blame him? To feel all this pressure, all this responsibility, pressing down on a single man's shoulders... he was no leader, no hero. Brave individiduals could take things like this, even if bittersweetly, but they would continue to persevere for the ones around them. They would go on, the pain only a fleeting memory for them after some time... but he was no hero, no leader. He was a coward who had ran away and chosen to deal with his own past grudges instead of attempting to free his fellow brethren and run away together. He was the one who had left them to die to the demons or, worse, the savage men and women who used them like everyday tools. He... he was alone. Alone in this world, left as the only form of redemption for all the lives he had neglected in his own rage, left as the only survivor of this insane ploy... and for a moment, Charles truly felt alone and cold, broken beyond relief... just like she had been, in those few moments, many years ago.

 

(( Eh... I cannot really describe sad feelings, it seems. Also, short. ))

[Clown_of_God]

So, this revelation of not being the girl he sought brought this young man into turmoil did it? Mina pondered how he would feel knowing that not only was she indeed alive and sitting right next to him, but that she had turned into a monster of her own sorts. Lies were easier to formulate when there was indeed a bit of truth mixed in, as she was indeed with a group earlier that week, but it wasn't demons that slaughtered them within the store they were scavenging through. Looking away from her company, Mina had to calm herself for she looked like she was on ecstasy. Providing a few slaps to the face and a couple of deep breaths, she was finally able to calm down and returned her gaze to the young man, sorrow filled eyes and a pout.

"I'm sorry if I reminded you of something horrible, but you shouldn't give up hope yet, right? There's still a chance you might find who you're looking for."

Consoling people usually made Mina feel sick, but this was an intriguing feeling for her right now. Usually, she'd just want to rip out the man's throat and leave him to the demons to feast upon, but not with this person. Was it because of their ties? That dead look in his eyes? Maybe there was a chance Mina could convert him instead, teach him the ways of slaughtering people. Sure, he might feel the need of revenge, but he was still on the side of mankind. Mina was on her own side, killing both humans and demons as she pleased. Was there a chance she might able to pull this person into her train of thought? That, she would have to discover at a later time, after her current task was complete.

"Forgive me if I sound impatient, though, but would you help me find the nearest safe zone? It's starting to get dark and there are some scary demons that come out at night."

 

((I'm not doing to hot on post length... my first post was my prize and joy and well, you see how that turned out.))

[KuroKishi]

(( We're the first-post-wall types, zakku. Thael, on the other hand... usually has longer posts than average, but this... this is just absolutely ridiculous. Every single post is at least 5 paragraphs it seems, and it takes me a good 15-20 minutes to read them ))

 

Charles had been standing quietly for the past two minutes, his gaze seemingly unwavering from the distance he had been starting at. His body felt cold, and his heart ached slightly with every breath, reminding him he was still alive, though alone, and had to redeem himself in front of his old comrades. They were dead, yes, but life would continue, and wallowing in self-pity would only crush his morale, which was already at an almighty low for almost everyone living in this Hell-on-Earth. It really did hurt - with each and every moment, the waves of emotions returned stronger and stronger, crashing into his whole being and forcing him back to each of the many moments he could've changed - but he couldn't sit idly, when those men were still alive, breathing, when they should've been dead, and he still had his life in his hands. No... if anything, he'd use his life to make their lives worse than what it already was in this hellhole. At her first words, the young man slowly nodded, raising his head from between his knees.

"It's a small chance, but... yes, a chance I'm willing to take. And, if she's not around, then I'll just have to stain my hands more..." He spoke out, a wicked smile appearing on his face as he placed a hand on the handle of his weapon. Thought it didn't look like it, Charles had killed people. Bandits which tried to thieve from people, crazed lunatics, strange cultists - heck, even a couple of Demon Arms users who had stopped him from his goal to find the ones he was hunting. His hands were definitely not clean, and he was sure he would spill other blood from innocents until his task came to an end.

 

He quickly dropped the unusual smile after the next words which Mina spoke out, however, and slowly rose to his feet. His head turned toward the right, following the street down to the horizon. Though the sun was still not close to dusk, it was visibly starting to darken, as the new angle of the falling sunlight made the shadows longer and far darker. The bunker was not too far from here, and he had a favor to collect from the owner, so if he was lucky, Charles could get some refuge for both of them without using a single bit of currency.

"Mm... you've been travelling in the night, since you know the dangers, then? Or were you just told by someone from your old guild?" Charles asked slightly, an obviously curious tone masking the pained feeling he still had. The young man's gaze shifted toward the left, attempting to make out the small entrance he'd taken out from the Underground of this city in order to get to the bunker. Sure enough, far in the distance, there was a standing column, with a strange, uneligible writing on it. Though it would take them a few minutes to reach it, then a few more to get through the Underground Passage to the bunker, but if they were lucky, they'd reach the bunker without any difference in the sun's light.

"Right. I know a small bunker nearby - it's not exactly the best place, but the owner owns me a favor for clearing out some beasts, so I'm thinking of collecting it. Have to admit, rooms are slightly small, but I'll let you sleep on the bed if you come along. Deal?" Charles asked as he turned toward Mina, offering one of his hands to her as a method to seal the bargain. He wasn't really expecting to get anything from her, nor did he want to, but he did need her approval before he could simply walk off toward the bunker.

Edited September 19, 2014 by KuroKishi

[Thaelasan]

Alright, you bunch of fools, listen up. That means those of you in the back who seem to think that your conversations are more important than mine. That's fine. When you die because you didn't know which damn way to go, I won't have to feel guilty.

Now, for a while now, my husband and Charles have done a damn good job of spoiling you and treating you like children. Though I appreciate my husband's kind heart, his method of leadership is more like a father to his children.

That's not how I work. For those of you who don't know, my name is Ezrea. You will refer to me as Lady or Captain Ezrea, nothing more, nothing less, unless you want a hand across your face the minute it leaves your mouth. I will not treat you as a mother treats her children, leading you by your grubby hands. I will treat you as a general treats her troops.

This coliseum was built specifically to house the finest and strongest of our guild. I suppose until they show up, you may use it to try and better yourselves. If you don't think you can do that, then leave now. If you can, then you may stay.

This is now my arena. This crucible is where you shall be tested to the limits of your abilities. You will be trained. You will bleed. You will sweat. By the end of it, you may curse my name. I will enjoy it. But you will also be able to actually show those demons what humanity is capable of.

Firstly, you will be divided into squads. Your squad is your family. Anyone who you had before them, you can forget. No one is more important to you now than your squad mates. They will support you. They will protect you. You will do the same for them. You will move as a single, individual unit. When you are with your squad, your free-will must leave you. You will not question the orders of your squad leader.

From then on, you will treat them with more respect than anyone else. Even me, should it come to that.

Now, before we begin all of that, you may see that there are bags at the end of each line. You will now dump your demon arms into those bags and pretend you never saw them. Demon arms are a crutch - not true use of your abilities. You will learn to fight without them. Then, you will learn to fight with them - IF you prove yourself. I honestly don't think a single one of you are worth one of these precious artifacts. If you prove me wrong, you may proudly carry them once again. Until that day comes, remove them from your memory. Treat this world as it was when those monsters first poured into it. We are defenseless. We know nothing about them. But does that make us unable to fight?

Hell no! We are humanity. We will rise to meet them on any front. With my assistance, you will be turned from recruits into soldiers worthy of facing them on the battlefield. By choosing to participate in this training, you have already earned the slightest bit of my respect. Admitting you can get better is an attribute of the strong. Only the weak would depend on demon arms for true power. Strength is not something an accessory can give you. Strength is something you earn through effort.

Of course, should you wish to finish your training now, or feel that you are already strong enough and don't need my help, I have a proposition for you. Defeat me. That's right. If you come up, right now, fight me, and emerge victorious, I shall allow you your demon arm back. So, with that said...

Any volunteers?

 

Ezrea Victor. A Speech to the Training Recruits. September 23, 2143.

 

-----

 

Well, now Charles felt just amazing. He rubbed his forehead, sighing. He'd already felt bad enough after his rant. Now, he'd even go far as to erroneously assume that Zulf was an idiot. He knew that wasn't true, especially now.

Great job, Charles. What kind of mediator are you?

"Well, I'm sorry, if it means anything." Charles finally said, leaning back again. "I've been trying to keep everything together as best I can considering the circumstances. But that doesn't mean I should take it out on you."

He then rubbed his chin for a long while, pondering. It was obvious where Gareth had gotten his pensive stare from. Charles had one of his own, though it seemed even more thoughtful - if possible. It was the stare that almost seemed to transcend the ceiling above, looking into the clouds beyond, where true imagination lay.

"As for a name for you... perhaps Hellhounds? Though you don't really resemble dogs. Or Hellboars? Hellboars seems fitting... It's hard to find a proper description which truly embodies your essence. Binomial nomenclature is difficult to follow precisely when it comes to certain species, I suppose. I'll find some Latin name for you all but for now the layman can refer to you as Hellboars, unless you have a better idea...?"

He leaned forward, grabbing his pen from his desk and writing the name down so he wouldn't forget it. If someone were to notice, he had sketches of different demons lining his desk, with similar blanks near them for naming. The drawings were actually pretty precise. It was obvious Charles had been working on this for a while when he wasn't preaching.

"Oh.. before I forget.." Charles reached into his desk and rummaged around a bit. Then, he finally revealed a desk mirror, showing it to Zulf. The surface was slightly marred with age but otherwise still reflective enough to be suitable.

"For future use, you can have this as well." Charles commented, getting up from his chair and walking towards Zulf with a steady stride. "I don't use it as much anymore so it's just gathering dust."

 

-----

 

So, everything had finally come full circle. The man Gareth had once called brother now sat before him, a broken man. It was obvious what had happened to him now.

Unlike Gareth, he had been unable to forget Allia. Where Gareth had risen again, like a phoenix from the ashes, and taken control of his life after her loss, Saraph had fallen into misery. Of course, Allia had meant more to Saraph than Gareth could ever have known or guessed. He had always been aware of their bond - and been a little jealous as well. But as long as she was happy, there had never been a problem.

Saraph had been a proud man. He had been a tracker. He had been intelligent and willful. His ideas and bold nature had made him a perfect match for Allia's headstrong personality. They would have been the perfect couple.

Her death had hit them both hard. It had just been a matter of standing back to your feet, understanding what had happened, and moving on.

Of course, Saraph still carried the blade that Gareth himself had had a hand in forging, just like his own gauntlets. They were a pair made from the body of the same beast. The Maw and Arms of the Behemoth Ven'tar. The brother of Gol'tar, he had been a monstrous creature worthy of note. His death had struck a blow against the armies of the demon horde.

From his great, bladed arms had come these gloves that Gareth wore. He looked at them now, flexing his fingers experimentally, remembering when Allia had put them on for him. He hadn't taken them off since. They felt like his own skin now, though leathery.

They didn't look too demonic until you followed them up his arms. They stopped halfway up his forearm. As they progressed from his wrist, they began to become plated and spiked, copper colored like the demon's rough exterior had been. They were fingerless, allowing for movement and normal use of his hands.

He remembered how others had tried to use them and failed. They were too big and unwieldy. Most couldn't even lift them. It hadn't taken long for everyone to look at him after a while and realize what they should have in the first place.

Gareth, the goliath, had been born for these, it seemed. His size, which had always been a problem for him in the past, made him the only one able to handle Ven'tar's deadly blades. As Allia placed them upon his arms, so pleased that his giant stature was now showing its benefits in this time, Gareth had been proud of himself. For so long, his size had impeded him, making research harder than it was for most people. He couldn't work precisely in a lab.

But the gloves could. For some reason, when he wore them, he felt more maneuverability. He could forge with more ease and move things around with greater comfort. Yet, when he had first put him on, he had been afraid. No one else seemed to have realized what he had. He wondered if they had felt it too.

The gloves had been warm. They had felt like someone else putting their hands on his. They felt alive, fleshy, breathing like skin. He had shuddered, slightly, when they had been placed upon him. No one else must have noticed because no one spoke up. Even Allia looked oblivious to his uncertainty.

He also hadn't told anyone about the feelings. The gloves wanted to crush. They remembered the arms they had been forged from. Perhaps it was muscle memory that just never died.

As he had used them, the feeling had been suppressed. Yet, whenever he actually formed the blades, the feeling began to return. It was one reason he told the rest of his followers to back away, to go to safety. He worried if one day he would simply turn upon them and slay them all.

It was one thing that lurked in his mind each time he bared his swords against the horde. But as long as he did, no one else would die. At least, that's how he felt.

But he couldn't forget that moment of fury he had felt when Allia had died. For some reason, he had felt unable to do anything but scream at Gol'tar and bare his arms at him. He had fought him, sundering the behemoth over and over without mercy until he had fallen. Saraph had helped as well, his blade darting through the beast's flesh like paper.

When he had fallen, Gareth's rage still didn't feel sated. It had taken a long while for him to reach peace again. It was one reason he had gone out and killed demons without mercy. Yet, he had blamed it on grief instead, trying to forget those feelings.

That intense rage, that fury, that want for nothing more than the total destruction of anything that could make you angry. It was an unending desire. It scared him, truly, whenever he remembered it. It had no true target. No true goal.

So, how had Saraph felt, then? If Gareth had felt the arms' feelings and desires, what had Saraph felt from the Maw and Fang of Ven'tar? He couldn't possibly know what Saraph had gone through, considering his state now. All he could do was assume.

He remembered the fang and maw as well. It had been a glorious creation. From the hideous mouth of the dreaded beast had been born a pair of bladed pistols, capable of great accuracy and strength. But, like Gareth's, they could turn into a single, long, curved fang of Ven'tar, sharp and deadly. It all depended on the foe. The bigger they were, the better it was to use the sword. The guns could handle small ones with ease.

The Maw and the Arms. They had planned to create more weapons from Ven'tar's form, considering how strong they could be when fully formed. Gol'tar was the reason that had not happened.

Now, just like Charles had said, Gareth - and now Saraph - were the only ones who remembered how to forge S-rank weapons. Of course, Gareth had tried to put it in words as to how to do what he did almost out of habit now.

You couldn't really describe the system for anything regarding those demon weapons, especially those of such strength. It was almost something you felt rather than did. You never forgot it, though.

If it had to be put into words, it would be almost as though you were holding something intangible and trying to force it to reality. It was like making something imperceptible suddenly become something everyone understood to be there. The essence of a demon was a nonexistent truth. It was there. It was just a matter of knowing it WAS there, feeling it, rather than seeing it. You had to know that you were holding something that did exist and that it was true, even though your eyes and brain said it was an impossibility.

Then, you had to form it into something which was real. You had to take it and use your mind to envision that which it could become if it were to have been a real thing. A gun, perhaps, or a sword. Maybe a suit of armor. When it came to S-rank weapons, however, it was as though the essence KNEW what it wanted to be, and you simply had to find what it was trying to become. It was tricky. It was like a game of twenty questions against an aura. You attempted to envision one thing and it was almost as though it told you no.

So, of course, writing that process down was complicated. Though Gareth had tried numerous times to explain it to Ezrea, she still couldn't fully understand. It wasn't that it was a hard process to understand, it was that it was a process at all. It didn't seem like something that people should be able to do. Creating things from nonexistent ideals was something gods did, not men. But he had done it. The gloves on his hands proved it. And they were real - very much so.

In fact, Ezrea's ring had been an attempt to try and show how it was done to those who wished to learn. Quite a few people had approached Gareth when Hope had begun, asking him how to make demon arms so they could do it for their friends and comrades.

Gareth's first rule had been simple: Do not know. It was cryptic. He explained that it was a very logical idea. You cannot know anything about this process. You have to feel it. You have to forget what you already know about reality and how it works and go around it. You have to imagine that reality is just one road that everyone follows, based upon the five senses. Demon arms, however, are forged by going on a side path that follows parallel to reality - imagination. You then have to connect the roads together and make imagination become real.

Some of the blacksmiths had tried and failed. They just could not believe what was unbelievable. Though they could make the item almost exist, if they didn't personally believe it was there, it faded away. Someone had to perceive it before everyone could.

There were, of course, people who could do it like Gareth did. He had been proud of them. With his guidance, they were now making weapons in the forges (if they could be called that without anvils and fire) for the front lines.

Ezrea's ring had come about during that time when Gareth had been trying to show them how to do it. His mind had half been on the process and half on how to propose to her the entire day. As they watched, the item he was forging kept flickering between two things. Then, it suddenly came into existence as a ring.

It wasn't exactly a romantic-looking trinket. He was pretty sure that a jewelry store wouldn't stoop low enough to carry it. It was purple, spiked, and looped with black, vein-like tendrils. All in all, it didn't resemble an item for the normal woman to receive as a token of affection.

Ezrea was not a normal woman. The moment she saw it, she had immediately held it up to the light and frowned.

"Perfect. Gold rings are for weak-willed women. I would have thrown one away if you had shown it to me." she remarked, turning it slightly in her gloved fingers. "I accept it. Does this mean I have to marry you now or something? I suppose I could do worse."

And that was how she now stood beside him.

All of this was moving through Gareth's mind as he fiddled with the gloves on his hands. All of that had happened within the span of a few months since Allia had fallen from him. It hadn't even been a year and yet it seemed so long ago. He wondered how she thought of him now. Was she proud? Disappointed?

Now, he looked back at Saraph, his face unreadable. How much had this man suffered without her by his side? How much had he cursed those who had taken her from him? How often had he yelled at the sky, filled with fury at any God who would steal her from him without warning?

He couldn't know. He didn't want to think about it.

"If you continue to stare at him like that then you'll never find out what happened." Ezrea commented as she sat back down next to him. She laid a tray out in front of Saraph, almost as though she were forcing it upon him. Well, at least she tried.

Ezrea hadn't been brought up as the kind of girl who made people food at all. Her parents had always cooked things or her older sisters. That didn't mean she didn't know how, though. Gareth had been surprised to find out that one of the many things Ezrea had learned in order to earn her independence had been gourmet cooking. Still, serving it to people was something she was having to learn to do.

The food did look appetizing. Gareth hoped Saraph would be able to eat, at least. If not, he'd eat it himself later. Hey, it was food, and Ezrea made it. Better not let it go to waste, right?

Still, they sat in silence for a moment longer, Ezrea sitting next to Gareth, still clad in her armor with Gareth the same. To the outside observer, this was definitely not a comfortable day at home.

Why couldn't it be, Gareth wondered? He finally mustered up his courage and spoke.

"Well, if that's all that it is.." he said, the words trying hard to sound like he meant them to sound. They didn't. He cursed silently.

"Look. I have had no idea where you've been for about three months now. I actually thought you were dead. Did you really think I blamed you for her death, Saraph?" Gareth said in disbelief. "We both know who killed her and he's gone now. We took care of it. You didn't kill her and neither did I. Justice was done. I don't blame you for anything at all. In fact, I worried that you blamed me, since she had been standing there because she had been walking towards me at the time. If you blamed yourself..."

He suddenly could do nothing but laugh. Ezrea moved back slightly, surprised, as her husband put his head in his hands and just began to laugh, yet tears fell from his eyes. He thought he had forgotten this pain forever.

Saraph's return now made all of those feelings come back to him. It made it real again, that which he had just simply allow to leave him.

"That's just funny, isn't it?" he said, his eyes wet and red. "That you blamed me for that... that that's why you never came back... Do you know how much I missed you, Saraph? You were like a brother to me... and you left for such a silly reason..."

Ezrea didn't really know what to do. It actually didn't seem right to comfort him. Also, that would make it look like she was a doting wife. That was definitely not true... but it did hurt her to see him this way.

She patted him on his back, maybe a little roughly, frowning.

"Hey. Hey. Gareth." she stated, concerned. "You do realize I have absolutely no idea what's going on, right? Quit crying."

"I'm sorry." Gareth apologized, rubbing his eyes slightly. "You're right. You have a right to know, if you want to."

"I suppose if it's this important then I may want to know, yes." Ezrea crossed her arms again. "It's not like I'm interested in your past or anything. But if you're going to say it anyway."

"Long story short, the man in front of us was going to marry my sister a while back... then she died, because we made a mistake." he said. "I thought he was dead."

"Your sister died? I didn't even know you had a sister." Ezrea said, indignant.

"Well, I wanted to forget." Gareth admitted. "I realized she wouldn't want me to mourn her for so long. She'd want me to move on. I thought I had but seeing Saraph now made me remember her again. I guess I'm not as strong as I thought."

"I wouldn't have married you if you weren't so get it together." Ezrea commanded, turning back to Saraph. "You. I don't think I like you so far. You made me look like a murderer and made my husband cry like a child. You better have a good explanation for all this nonsense."

She tapped her foot on the floor impatiently. Gareth had had a sister. Now they were in a situation and Ezrea had absolutely no prior knowledge of it even having a chance to happen. As a tactician by nature, this irritated her. She needed to know every facet of a situation.

Edited September 20, 2014 by Thaelasan

[Clown_of_God]

Mina smiled brightly and nodded, shifting her legs to where she was on her knees and then placing her hands on the ground. With shaky legs, she began to stand only to collapse slightly and laugh somewhat nervously. Holding her hand out, she was both accepting the young man's offer and asking for his aid.

"I don't mind sharing as long as you don't mind helping me over there. Seems my legs have finally given out after the past few days of trying to find someone, so I'm also very well aware of the dangers that lurk in the dark. Heh."

Looking at the ground, she acted as if she was reflecting on the past nights events, but she was actually thinking of the first time she had met her demon companion. It was on the eve of August 22nd, just as the sun was setting below the horizon. Mina was alone in the dense wooded area north of Sacramento when he came forth, a cloak of shadows and soul snaring eyes, Sen'Khel. A demon, wrought from the emotions of despair and vengeance, who fed on the souls of the damned. Yet, upon meeting the girl with blood on her hands and death in her eyes, he saw something he could use. At first, he merely observed her and watched as she slaughtered many, torturing them until their wills broke and the life left their eyes.

Yes, this girl he could use, so that is exactly what he did. For several years after that, she worked under the demon, killing those he requested and breaking those he fed upon. That was the current mission she was set up with. A feeding mission. This man that he had requested, he must be living a lie to those around him, seemingly happy and supportive. Yes, those were the kind that really got her going, her heart racing and her body hot. Then, when their blood spilled across her hands it was the most glorious feeling she could think of.

 

------

 

Just outside the main city, near the western sector of the barrier, stood a vast cathedral that had once been used as a Catholic monastery. Instead of housing thousands of Catholics on their day of worship, however, it was the sanctuary of the rather well known destruction guild, Hell Reaper. With hundreds of members, hustling and bustling about, making all kinds of noise, there was still a distinct tapping noise that echoed from one of the back rooms. Rows of books lined the back wall, red carpet flooring, a single desk, and a light that barely lit up the royal purple walls adorned with various paintings, sat a young man who was staring at several pieces of parchment. Beside him, a girl who looked just a few years his younger, was leaning over the chair he sat in and was pointing out various parts of the parchment.

"And this team is the one who reported about the red-haired female you're looking for. As you can see here, they reported that a few of the DC locals verified that the girl has linked up with one of the other residents and together they have started another colony a little ways out from the safety of the main barriers."

"Alright, I'll speak with Mark and Erik, they'll hold the guild. In the mean time, we're gonna take a trip to DC and see if we can find where she is exactly. A year and I still have no idea what it is I'm dealing with."

Nodding, the girl stood straight and proceeded to exit the room, pausing briefly in the doorway before continuing on. Meanwhile, the young man continued to look over the various pieces of parchment, all containing various reports on the girl he was looking for.

Each piece pointed him to the DC area, but there was no specific location and the DC area was growing vast. Finally, after months of searching and sending small search groups, he finally received some useful information that would narrow his search greatly. It might also help that this girl he was looking for married some crazy demon tech researcher. This specific information had intrigued him, leading him to believe that maybe he might be able to find out something about his sword. Where it came from, what it was made of, what it was capable of doing, so on and so forth.

"They have been informed."

Setting the papers down, the light revealed the scar-like marking that distinguished the right side of the young man's face. An inverted cross. Once believed to be a satanic symbol, the young man was able to prove that it was a symbol of defiance and also humility.

Nodding at his partner, the young man stood and they both left the chamber together, walking down the halls of the cathedral. Several passerby's waved and smiled, others flexed their muscles, while those that were still new were unsure how to greet the two.

"They are preparing the systems for her transport to DC. From there, I've told them if we aren't back in two weeks to continue standard operating procedures. A month is the max allotted time for our disappearance. After that, send search parties and recovery teams. I don't know what to expect while we're out here, but I doubt we'll run into anything more troublesome than you."

A smirk crossed her lips and the young man nudged her only to get a swift punch to his shoulder in return.

They both casually strode down the halls and onto the main streets of the city, making their way to the teleportation unit that would bring them to the DC area. From there, the two planned to ask about the girl in further detail, see if there were any trading routes to this new colony, anything that could give them a better location. After that, they'd head North, to where the colony was originally speculated to be and begin a fifty mile spread search zone. If nothing was found, they would return to the main wall and adjust their search parameters. That was the reason behind their two week safety period.

 

------

 

Looking around, there was a slight nauseous feeling in the pit of the young man's stomach. He had never liked teleporting, always preferring to walk if the situation allowed. Of course, time was kind of important in this matter, so teleportation was a necessary evil for this mission. Crouching down, it was just a few moments before he felt a cool hand run up along his back. Looking up, the sharp eyes of his companion reflected a mocking 'are you sick' look to them.

Heaving a sigh, the young man stood and dusted himself off then stretched out his tense muscles. Looking at his companion, they nodded at each other and split apart, beginning the initial part of their search. Asking around the city for any other evidence of the location of this other colony. Of course, the girl was a tad nervous having to separate from her partner, but this was the quickest way to obtain information. After a couple of hours, they would meet back up at the base of the teleportation grid and trade information.

[Neutual Demon]

The human seemed...repentant at the very least for his outburst. Zulfiqar flicked his tail to the side as he watched the Fathered One. He had to admit that the old meatball had some guts to sit there and rant to a demon of all things. That, or Zulfiqar was losing his touch. What, was he no longer viewed as a vicious savage beast who wanted nothing more than to loot shinies from human corpses? He would have to step his game up if he wanted to continued to be feared- at least in reasonable terms so that Gareth's mate wouldn't come calling for his head. He wasn't suicidal.

"I will tolerate your presence for awhile longer," Zulfiqar decided after a moment of gazing intently at the human before him. It was the closest thing to accepting an apology that he was going to get out of the demon.

Zulfiqar's tail began to thump against the floor, betraying his attempt to hide his glee as the Fathered One began his attempt to come up with a decent name for the demon's "species". His tail stopped suddenly in mid-thump, his eyes staring almost comically wide at the human. "...What's a boar?" he asked, trying to wrack his brain for any clue as to what in the blazing hells was that. He was assuming it was some sort of human world animal. It better be some majestically terrifying creature, or the human was going to get it.

His tail resumed thumping, if not more vigorously as the older human rose to his feet and walked towards the demon after rummaging through his furniture. Oh, oh, oh! He was getting another gift! He brought his face close to the reflective surface in the Fathered One's grasp, his breath fogging up the glass as he stared into his small reflection. "It is acceptable," he said before bumping his head against the human's side. "Now scratch me. The leader meatsack did not satisfy me for long enough and he is busy, so pet me before the miniature parasites arrive and I must go seek out the leader human." Perhaps letting humans scratch him was a form of gratitude, but Zulfiqar rather not think about that much. He was simply letting them pet him so he would feel refreshed and pleased, nothing more, or so he inwardly told himself. He would get his scratches, take his present, and leave before the little blighters arrived to annoy him. Little humans were so strange to Zulfiqar, and he wanted nothing to do with them. How in the world did humans tolerated them for so long was beyond the demon's comprehension. Their little legs, their loud screeches and greedy, sticky paws were more than he could take.

[HellFireSouLess]

Saraph looked up at Ezrea. Saraph did not think any of this was funny. He meant every word he said. Saraph then looked down at his pistols. His eyes were filling with tears. The one thing he left of her. Now he found Gareth his brother, his comrade. Allia was is not just the remedy. She was the one that soothed his soul. Saraph clinched his fists as the tears ran down his face . As a fountain that could stop. When she said husband he lost it. He brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. Lowering his head. Gareth was married. He had someone to calm him. Someone that was his remedy. Yet, Saraph had none. There was nothing stopping him from losing to the beast within. Now his was scared more than ever. What if Gareth sees him lose it and his now his wife. He wanted to answer Ezrea. The pain he began to feel in heart. Was something unbearable. He did not want to speak of her death. Did not want to relive it. All he wanted was to be him again with her at his side. He could not look anyone. So he kept his head down for he was about to explain to Ezrea.

"My name is Saraph. Long ago I was the leader of a guild. A guild named Spes Incipiens. We as a guild were a Creation guild. We studied and made weapons for others. The Destruction guilds that would to annihilate. The Rehabilitation guilds that wanted to rebuild. In that guild I meant a man. A man that I call brother and still do. Together we helped others forge their weapons. One demon we killed named Ven'tar. Which mine and Gareth's weapons were forged from." said Saraph hugging his knees tighter.

For the part he was going to say filled his heart with grief and agonizing pain.

"Then one day. A demon named Gol'tar attacked the facility we were in. What came next destroyed my every heart and soul. During the attack...Gol'tar with one reach of his arm grabbed Ven'tar's body. Killing 100 people including... Allia Gareth's sister." Saraph began crying in pain.

For images of that event. Were playing like a film in his head. Remembering the crash of Gol'tar's fist threw the roof. The screams of evryone. The image of Allia's dead body.

"After that I went into isolation... I did not know what to do. So I ran leaving everything behind." Saraph said sobbing.

Even after a year he was still not over it. He still believes that he was weak. Gareth was stronger than he could ever be. He was able to move on with his live. Saraph was the one still chained and bound to this pain. This memory that lingers.

"Gareth do not ever say you are weak. I am the one who is weak. You were able to move on and have a life." said Saraph with kind words.

Saraph began asking why me? Why did i have to lose her? That was all he wanted to know.

"I am sorry Ezrea. I did not want any of this to happen. I was just... tired of running away from everything. I wanted to find Gareth. To tell him I am sorry." Saraph as he stopped sobbing

He wiped the tears from his face. Still sitting with his arms around his knees. He remembered the missions that him and Gareth would go on. Saraph would always scout to far ahead and bringing back to many demons to count. Gareth would laugh at him as he ran. Two brothers enjoying the missions they had together. A part of Saraph wanted that back too. He wanted his friend, his brother. Even thou Allia was not with him. At least he had Gareth.

"I know that it has been awhile. What I want to join your guild. If I have to prove myself so be, I will." Saraph said with determination.

 

 

[Melomancer]

"Yeah," He replied, "He mentioned an omega sign stretching across the building. He said it would cover an entire side, so it shouldn't be hard to spot." As he walked, he kept an eye out for any splashes of red across buildings. "So, basically, it's meth?" He jokingly asked, "Are you a drug dealer or something? " chuckling, he quickly added : "I'm just kidding," In case Lyra took offense. The product sounded pretty good, except for the addictive part. He got easily addicted to things, and he didn't want to end up hooked on something so expensive or rare, especially if he ended up relying on it instead of having to practice his skills. I'll just give it a shot, what's the worst that could happen?

 

looking up, he noticed a splash of red a distance ahead. Picking up his speed, he approached it and saw that it was indeed an omega sign. Grinning, he turned back to Lyra. "We're here!" As he approached the grey brick building, he spotted a lanky, bearded man standing by the entrance, a large knife in his hand. The knife seemed to be glowing red, and occasionally, a spark of crimson electricity would emerge from the tip. As Icarus got closer, the man lifted his knife and pointed at him with it. "Arm." Icarus lifted his right hand, showing him the Demon arm strapped to it. "I'm bringing a friend, hope he doesn't mind." He pointed to Lyra. The man looked slightly disgruntled, but replied :"Any funny business, and I'll gut the both of you reeal good. Got that?"

 

Nodding, Icarus brushed past him and opened the door. The inside was surprisingly clean, and the first floor was completely void of furniture. A spiral staircase lead to the second floor, where he guessed the guy he had taken the job from was. He walked up the stairs, listening to the sound the wood made when he stepped on it. At the top, a short hallway stood, with a door at the end. He knocked on the door and took a step back. After a few seconds, the door creaked open slightly, and a loud voice echoed out: "Come in!" Icarus pushed the wooden door open and walked in.

 

At a table, a old looking man with a grey beard sat. A briefcase sat next to him. "I trust the deed is done?" He lifted the briefcase and put in on the table. He clicked the locks open, exposing the rolls of cash. Icarus stuck his hand in his pocket, pulling out the necklace. "He won't be bothering you in the future." He tossed the necklace over, and the man caught it with surprising speed. Looking at it, he pushed the suitcase towards him. "Twenty five thousand. Take it and leave. You may get another job soon. Keep your eyes open, kid." Icarus closed the suitcase and walked towards Lyra. "Will this be enough to buy it?"

[Dragonhatchling]

Was she a drug dealer? A 14 year old kid asking such questions admittedly amused Arethviil, though she didn't show her amusement. She seemed more perturbed than anything. But she didn't respond either; and to that, she left him to think as he like.

She helped keep an eye out for odd red signs and omega symbols. It shouldn't be too hard to spot such a thing. She couldn't recall the last time she had seen both clues hanging about in the same area. Where did this boy find such contracts? Perhaps he could help her after all. Or perhaps the person handing out the contracts could.

 

When Icarus exclaimed that they were here, Arethviil already noticed the strange man wielding a knife. She was tempted to draw her sword, and show, that if he should wish to try, that she would welcome the fight. But, instead, when he mentioned not trying anything she decided to be polite. "I'm along for the ride. No 'funny business' intended sir." She responded, following Icarus inside the house. She could have easily run him through.

 

The cleanliness of the house surprised her. Not only because she was used to much darker aspects of such houses, but that there was nothing on the first floor. That struck her as odd. Who would have absolutely nothing on the first floor of a house?? Then again, who would have a grungy old ornery man guarding the door to a house handing out demon contracts. That didn't go hand in hand in the least. That man probably could hold his own for a moment, but once the demons got here he'd be better off running. Demon Arm or no Demon Arm. They all were better off running by that point.

 

The sounds the stairs made amused the girl. She'd heard them before, but her mischievous side always loved to stop and make the extra creaky ones creak, or the more interesting sounding ones to make even more interesting sounds. This caused her to slow a bit going up the stairs. Icarus probably thought it odd, though he didn't seem to mind. When he got too far ahead, Arethviil followed after him a bit more steadily, still stopping to test out more interesting stairs on their way up. Fortunately for everyone- there weren't a lot of stairs for her to try. Sure the old wood made sounds, but you could only cram so many stairs into a flight.

 

The odd hallway at the top confused her even more. First and empty floor down below. A creaky and fun staircase. Now a short hallway with a door? Did nobody live in this house except when contracts were due? It sure seemed that way to her. She would have at least put a chair downstairs... One lone chair. A wooden one. In the middle of the room. It reminded her of a twisted horror movie she had watched one day. She smiled at the thought. It would be perfect for here. Completely perfect. She'd get to scare people, move the chair around to chair people, get contracts... she could see herself running such a house. But Icarus interrupted her amusement with his knocking and someone shouting "Come in!" afterword echoed as a response.

 

So somebody did live here that wasn't just the weird old man outside. Good.

 

A table with an older man was inside the door once she had followed Icarus inside it. The suitcase was there and she allowed Icarus to do the talking. It was his contract after all. But she perked up at the mentioned of twenty five thousand dollars. Probably perked up a bit too much too when she noticed Icarus coming back over to her asking if that would be enough. Surely he couldn't be serious! That would be more than enough to buy a supply of these to last him a few weeks, if not more if he didn't become a daily user.

But Arethviil didn't respond right away. She waited until the door had been shut and they were on their way down the hall. "I've got a better idea..." She started, stopping him once they were out of earshot of the old man and starting to get nearer to the stairs. "How's about you try it... and I'll take only a cut of the pay you've got. Won't make you pay full price this time since it's your first. But," and she looked at him even more seriously than she had in the past. "But, I'd also like your opinion on something and your help... whether or not you know what this is going to mean." She paused, checking for warning signs of him possibly fleeing.

 

The girl pulled out her crumpled letter, unfolding it for him to read as she handed it to Icarus.

For Lyra Esher,

 

You are needed in a position I assure you you would be happy to fill. Details will be arranged when you arrive. Some pay has already been enclosed to you, as well as a small token should anyone give you trouble.

More word on your pay shall be worked out in person. Please do consider and take utmost care on being timely.

Bring anything you may need. We may be able to provide anything you may be missing.

 

In hope of our next meeting,

Good Luck.

"I got that a few days ago... and have absolutely no idea what I'm supposed to do about it." Arethviil looked to Icarus. "Figured since you took a contract already, you might have an idea of what this wants since I never got my pay and i never got the token thing it talked about.... which makes me think someone else got to it first..." The last half of the sentence seemed almost angry, like Arethviil seemed cheated. And she did seem cheated. There was a lot there for her to think that someone purposefully either was lying or took her job for her at its worst. But perhaps that was her old ways cropping back up on her. If only Icarus knew that what he asked earlier essentially was true. She was- in a way. A very twisted way.

 

((Oh hello rather somewhat average post... hopefully for everyone's sake you don't start rivaling Thael like you sometimes do... ....but luckily, college should tame you.))

Edited September 21, 2014 by Dragonhatchling

[Melomancer]

Icarus stared at the letter, seeing if he could remember anything. "Well, I have no idea who this is from, but it says position, not job, so it sounds like they're offering you a long term job." He paused, thinking about it a bit more. "If that's the case, and if whoever took your stuff also took the job, they probably wouldn't accept him or her, considering they specifically wrote this letter to you. There's always the chance that they just took your loot and ran, but they wouldn't leave the letter as evidence in that case, so maybe they just took the job?" He folded the letter back up and passed it to her. "I have no idea what it means, or who could have sent it, but since you came along with me, and I'm pretty free right now, I could help you find the person. If that's okay with you?"

 

As they walked towards the staircase, he turned back towards the door. "Hey, hold on, maybe we could ask George?" He pointed towards the old man. He could see George wiping the table through the open door. He leaned in close to Lyra and whispered :"Honestly, I don't really trust him. But he seems like a good option, since he gives contracts. You willing to ask him? Of course, he may freak out try to murder you or something. I don't like the look in his eyes."

[Clown_of_God]

((Just a forewarning... my posts are gonna shrink considerably starting around Monday. We're gonna be out in the field and the only thing I'll have is my phone. We're supposed to be out for 3 weeks, so... yeah... ))

[Thaelasan]

Today, we shall begin the work we've meant to do for roughly a month now. I know you've all eagerly awaited this moment. I know I have, though it's not because I desire to battle.

Ezrea tells me that you all have done well in your training for the most part. I think that means you passed with flying colors, right? Now she's staring at me because she didn't want me to tell you that.

Don't worry. However well you did doesn't matter now. You did it. Those of you who took her course did it willingly and stuck with it. Only a few of you backed out due to various reasons. No one is angry with you.

The important part is that we will now take the fight to the demon hordes. For a few months now, a mass of them have appeared on the eastern and northern borders of near what used to be Dover and Harrisburg, respectively. Ezrea tells me that they've been docile for some time but now they seem to be agitated and on the offensive. Then we shall do the same and do it with as much fury as they have.

We are the new image of Hope and we will show them that that name is not just a name. We have hope for a future brighter than the one we face. This town stands between them and Washington D.C. We won't even let them close to here, let alone scratch the barrier. We will halt their advance and turn them back.

The plan is simple: Alpha and Bravo shall be on the offensive. I will be the leader of both groups and be on the front lines with them. Charlie and Delta shall be on the defensive in the east. Charlie's leader in the field shall be Vincent. Delta's leader is Xian. Ezrea shall be the tactician of both groups and relay instructions from the tent here when necessary. Leave your coms on at all times.

But don't let all this preparation scare you. As I said before, I would never put you in any danger that I knew you couldn't emerge from. If I did, I wouldn't be worth a damn as your apparent leader. This is just to make sure we have total tactical advantage at any given time.

I know my wife is a tactical genius and I'm not saying that just as her husband. She may not seem it but she doesn't want you to die just as much as I don't. As long as we both stand as your guild leaders, we will do our best to keep you living on.

Alpha, you're coming with me in about five hours, so make sure you have everything ready. Bravo, you'll be leaving in fifteen, at 1800. Charlie and Delta shall do the same, respectively. The current plan is shifts of night and day. Based upon our progress, we will begin changing that time when necessary. Sorry Bravo and Charlie members. You're currently on the night shift. But for Bravo members, I'll be fighting with you and Alpha. That's right - no sleep for me until we can get this situation under control. Ezrea isn't happy with me about that decision. However, I think you guys can get this done in less than two days. I'd appreciate it. Sleep is awesome.

If you have any questions about your teams, squads, or times, direct them to Ezrea. Father Charles will provide medical attention for those that need it.

Also, lastly, and most importantly, make sure you have your demon arms equipped, but remember what Ezrea said: Do not put all of your faith and power into them. If possible, avoid using them as much as possible. You need to be able to battle with and without them and I know Ezrea pounded that into you - for some of you, literally. Sorry. That's how she is. Love you, honey!

Before she punches me too, let's hurry to the front lines! Meet you there!

For Hope!

 

Gareth Victor. Speech to the Dichotomy of Deliverance Squads before the initiation of Operation Blade of Hope. November 14, 2143.

The Operation was a success.

 

----

 

Father Charles was actually quite confused but that was normally the case in this crazy, half-built town that Gareth took such pride in. Ever since these demons had first been allowed in the gates, life for Charles had been hectic. He'd had to learn how to treat demon wounds, for one, since some of them actually went on the front lines, carrying mortars with their massive strength. The ones with hands actually used human guns and rifles as well if they didn't have magical power. A lot of them, however, preferred to use great weapons and they forged them themselves using the powerful heat of their lava pits.

It had actually been extraordinary for Charles when a few of them had asked to see his novels concerning blacksmithing and basic engineering. Within the span of a week, they had constructed armories full of decent and well-made human weapons, ranging from medieval to modern, from rapiers to claymores, from bows to small pistols. How they had done it was a mystery. But who was he to question their apparent intellects?

They had been smart, indeed, moreso than Charles could ever have imagined. Unlike the brutes who charged the front lines against humanity, the ones who had joined them had shown exemplary skill in language development, literary advancement, algebraic mastery, and even scientific/biological research. With Charles' books (which, since they were demons, understandably came back slightly scorched. It looked like they had tried to patch them up with cloth afterward.), they had gone from grunting demons with a desire to learn into things akin to civilized beings that rivaled (Charles admitted with fascination) humans themselves.

Why had their genius been so unused? Charles had had his question answered when Zulfiqar had begun to speak about demon civilization and other things of note: They really, honestly, truly, and absolutely did not care. Advancement meant speaking to other demons and creating civilizations like humans did. Most demons didn't want to speak to other demons. For some reason even Zulfiqar hadn't really known, they didn't like to approach or talk to each other unless they passed each other happenstance. It was a major case of xeno-social-awkwardness, as Charles had finally come to call it. It wasn't a phobia - it was just disdain for any interaction that left them having to have anything to do with another individual of any species.

Yet, as they had advanced their own repertoire based on humans and their knowledge, the demons in the lava pit had shown signs of actually attempting to do as the humans did - TALK WITH OTHER BEINGS. They spoke in their pits casually about anything they could think of. They approached each other off-handedly and struck up conversations. Still, like any normal human, approaching another demon was still nerve-wracking. It wasn't unusual for people to take a while to actually become friends and socialize. But for them to DO it was astounding to Charles, who had had to treat demons in entirely separate rooms because of their territorial nature.

Zulf, however, remained indignant and refused to speak to other demons unless they just HAD to force themselves to meander over to him, trying hard to strike up conversation. To him, it was a question of why he had to talk to them in the first place? If he wanted to speak to someone, he'd put up a, as he had put it, "damn sign written in one of your freaky human writing things that you use in your squiggle boxes that said I wanted it."

Charles had not pushed the matter further. Strangely enough, the only person Zulf really even spoke to normally was Gareth. Of course, Gareth had to initiate the conversation normally. Like Ezrea, however (WHICH SHE ABSOLUTELY DENIED COULD BE TRUE IN ANY WAY) Zulf seemed like he just didn't want people to think he liked Gareth at all.

Why was that? He supposed he could chalk it up to diversity, at the end of it all. Diversity, that was it. But the fact that they had evolved enough to achieve that form of ideal meant a lot to Charles. That's one reason he had enjoyed the idea of the lava pits in the first place. Gareth saw friendship and mutual benefits. Charles saw a prime location with which to study these exquisite creatures in detail.

He was a priest, yes, but in his previous life, he had been a very overzealous researcher, something that he had also inspired in Gareth. But where Gareth actually thought of people first, Charles was only interested in the research when it came right down to it.

Thankfully, Charles had morals. It didn't mean he didn't know when things were prime to investigate, though. He had his priorities.

But now, even this strange desire had Charles flabbergasted. His research had not prepared him for this sudden change in Zulfiqar's behavior - at least, what he had observed. He had actually no idea that Zulf had had such a want for this sort of thing. He'd never seen Gareth do it either but this demon claimed he had.

Which also meant Gareth was still too naive and kept spoiling individuals too much. Though Charles hated to admit it, he'd been pleased that Ezrea kept Gareth from as nice as he used to be. It had worried Charles to no end that one day Gareth's naive and overly kind nature would get him killed. S he prevented most of that by making Gareth more aware of his surroundings and position. She couldn't totally stop him though. He was still a giant man who made decisions on his own. No one could argue that in the end.

Charles adjusted his reading glasses with a frown and rubbed his hands on his suit nonchalantly. This request now sat in his mind and continued to baffle him though he fully understood its meaning - any fool could. The demon wanted to be scratched like some form of puppy or adult dog breed - or, really, any animal in general that could be domesticated. Did this mean even more evolution of ideals due to (what Charles could call now, if this was the case) "demon domestication"?! This was now on an entirely new level of scientific achievement by mankind! Gareth probably didn't even understand just how large of an impact he had made on these species with his kindness. For better or worse, that friendly titan had just caused the domestication and civilized evolution of multiple species in almost the same instant! It was like pets that could speak and create communities! What could this mean for the future, even when the war ended!? Hellboars wandering around with fashionistas!? Minotaur Demons protecting homes as night fell!? And the military benefits they could have could cause another war even after this one, just like the unavoidable civil wars after a country was created! This could mean chaos and havoc in multiple forms if it continued in this way! Charles began to sweat nervously.

His thought processes were accelerating. This one request had now almost blown the poor man's mind like a literal shotgun aimed at his elderly face. He leaned backward against his desk, his scientific mind overtaking his common sense. Though he wanted to trust in human benevolence and that these creatures would never stand for that sort of treatment, the ones outside seemed to tell him otherwise... If these people actually understood what they had... if Gareth wasn't such a good man... He had two armies under his hand and all he could think of was protecting humanity.

The damn boy should have been the president, or something. Charles rubbed his hand through his hair and sighed loudly, trying to calm his nerves. As long as Gareth was the only one with access to this sort of thing - these... domesticated demons, as Charles now called them - then maybe the problem wouldn't get out of hand after all. Yes, as long as Gareth could keep them to himself somehow until Charles could find some way to undo this damage... or at least, mitigate their uses so they couldn't become weapons of war for humans with less than desirable motives... God, he wasn't prepared for this.

He was still staring at Zulf now, his body visibly shaken, his hands placed on his desk to steady himself. His face, though, was genuinely unreadable. Through that entire affair he had a blank, observing gaze, shrouding the absolute chaos that had rumbled through his synapses with the force of a stampede. But, still, the thoughts lingered, clamoring for attention that he didn't want to give. What if Zulf began to realize, instead, that he was being treated like an animal? Or did he know? Would he become outraged and threaten insurrection for civil rights of demons?! Oh god, he didn't even consider demon slavery! He had hoped that, at the very least, it would be mutual fellowship that considered their intelligence as well! Why had he even given humanity that much doubt? Certainly they could be enslaved if they weren't even aware they were being done such a wrong! Gareth hadn't taught them these ideals! But if Charles did, would they think he was doing that?! He wasn't paying them in the slightest. Then again, he wasn't paying anyone at all, but that was beside the point. And what would demons even find valuable anyway? He doubted gold would mean anything to them.

Would they develop their own currency!? Had they already done so and he just didn't know!? Back alley demon deals!?

AND THE DEMON ARMS AS WELL! The thought slammed his face and broke his concentration. He covered his mouth with his hands, unable to keep his blank stare any longer. The most obvious problem following this war: What would become of the demon arms!? This world was doomed! Doomed! How would they be certain that people would freely give things that were so powerful away?! Once the war was over, those who had been given such power and control over their lives would then, inevitably, turn upon each other once again! War was the only uniting force of humanity in the end of it all. The most irritating fact that haunted the minds of every individual who knew of the truth. War made peace between once furious nations. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. 1984, in a nutshell.

Gareth's natural optimism had blinded him. He probably had never even thought about this at all. At the end of it all, the humanity he saved would become savages again. Ezrea and Gareth would be forced to kill their own brothers and sisters just like the demons. What would become of the demons then, if they hadn't been defeated? Would they continue to fight on?

When would the war truly end? Who would emerge victorious? How would these demons be treated following these events? Slaves or a new nation of their own? What would become of their world, in that regard? In a way, this could actually lead to the apocalypse, whether by human or demon hands, and no one would win. Demon arms were the most powerful weapons humanity had ever devised, stronger even, in some cases, than atomic bombs and other nuclear weapons. And bio-weapons? You had to be a madman to think that you could penetrate the barrier that demon armor gave people with something like anthrax. They would cut you in two.

The image of Gareth, covered in the blood of his friends haunted Charles now more than anything else. The end of this war would take everything from him again, if humanity did as it had always done. No one would emerge victorious. All of his kindness and generosity would lead to nothing. Just like with demons, those with the strongest demon arms would emerge from a broken human landscape and assert their dominance over a world shattered hundreds of times by demon arms. The war would never truly end. Demons... had already won.

Charles mind was close to breaking. He forced himself to calm down, shaking considerably. It was madness, madness indeed, to think that they could ever have won to begin with. Yet, rather than fight against reality, he would simply ignore it, like Gareth did. Why bother thinking about the future? Just do what came naturally. Just let the world do as it did and try your best to believe in... Hope? Because maybe, just maybe, things could actually go well.

Right. Sure.

He leaned down, sighing, and began scratching Zulf's back as if nothing had happened at all. Why bother telling the demon about how his kind had damned all of humanity if, indeed, his theories were true? Why explain to him about how his species had now condemned the world to a certain doom by any number of sources, some of which humans themselves?

The answer was simple - just don't. It wasn't worth it. No one would ever know of these worries because they wouldn't do anything. If he told people, made them understand, it would just cause hysteria or they wouldn't believe him. They'd say "humanity wouldn't do that." They would ignore the past which said otherwise. Why would they want to believe in a future where humans killed each other? Why would they fight for that? Who in their right mind would fight for that sort of future?

No one. In the end, it was better to have false hope, if anything. That's why they had built Hope in the first place.

As Charles scratched the demon which had just almost made him go mad, he wondered if this what Gareth did to people, or if it was simply this new world they were forced to fight in. Whatever it was, he wasn't sure yet if he liked it.

This optimism. Was it normal?

 

-----

 

Ezrea sat for a long moment, unable to make any reaction, as Saraph told her story. Due to her upbringing, it was her nature to stare a person in their eyes and listen fully to what they said before speaking back. She was proud of this, of course. Yet it wasn't the sort of story you wanted to hear.

Finally, she crossed her arms and leaned backward, frowning.

"I can't just say that's not a good reason to cry or act as you have but sometimes you just have to deal with things as they come. That's all I can say. I did." Ezrea stated. "If we shed tears over every man or woman that we have lost since this war began, we might actually drown these demons with the water. But, we don't, because we don't have the freedom to do such things as we wish in this age. That sort of time-wasting behavior gets you killed."

She poked the tray with a single finger, stern.

"Eat. You're a guest. You're lucky I don't throw you out for making my husband cry in such a manner. Honestly, the leader of a guild bawling like that. Why did I marry you?"

"Thank you.. for your concern." Gareth said sincerely, smiling again. His face looked better now, though he still had a hint of depression.

"Just don't do it again, you understand?" she said sternly, trying hard to look fierce, though it was obvious she was concerned. Though, that was a fleeting look. She quickly regained her composure and turned back to Saraph.

"Alright. He's said words. Now you say words. Quickly. We're going to handle this situation." she commanded, gesturing.

"Well, Saraph, I still don't understand why you blame yourself but you're always welcome to join this guild whenever you want. I actually have been wanting you to do it and hoped you would... for a long time." Gareth said.

Ezrea huffed audibly, indignant. Gareth turned, confused.

"He didn't participate in my training." she pouted slightly, crossing her arms tighter.

"Well you don't have to worry about that. He helped me beat Gol'tar, remember?"

"Hah! I bet." Ezrea smirked. "Still, that was in a moment of anger and ferocity. Admit it. At the time, you felt impulsive emotions."

"I did." Gareth admitted freely.

"Then you fought without a clear head. I bet this man did even moreso. So, I don't trust his capabilities."

"Well, I'd say that he's on par with me, perhaps even better."

"Don't say that. Ever." Ezrea hissed, turning away again. "Any husband of mine would be able to defeat anyone. Easily. Otherwise, why bother? Then I'd have to do all the work."

"I see. Well then, he's a strong guy in general." Gareth complimented, standing to his feet. "Are you going to stay to make sure he's ok and gets some food in him?"

"I'm not worried about him!" Ezrea blushed furiously. "Not because he's your friend! Not at all! He can die!"

She stood to her feet and grabbed her sword, moving quickly to the door. Gareth laid a simple hand on her shoulder to stop her. She paused for long moment.

"I am heading to the arena. I expect to find our guest there within fifteen minutes. If he doesn't show up, he doesn't get to join." she said firmly, opening the door. "And if that's the case, it'd be better off if he had actually been dead!"

With that last word, she slammed the door behind herself, unabashed.

 

-----

 

Gareth sighed, scratching the back of his head and turning back to give Saraph a smile.

"Well, uh... you don't... HAVE to do that. However, Ezrea feels like she has to face everyone here at least once because she has a lot of pride in her abilities. If you don't match up to her, she doesn't honor you as an actual guild member. I will but she won't."

He sat back down on the couch, still a bit shaken from the events that Saraph brought back to the surface of his mind. However, Gareth was good at making himself smile again. Perhaps it was the wrong thing to do sometimes but it always made it better in the end.

"Anyway, if you ARE going to fight her, don't bring that. She'll insult you."

He pointed to Saraph's sword.

"She and I both think that you have to be able to fight without those. Hopefully she doesn't do to you what she did to the recruits she started with. One of them came back with a concussion... ok maybe that isn't what I should be telling you. Forget I said that."

He pointed at the tray after that, curious.

"If you aren't going to eat that, could I have it?" Gareth asked. "She's a damn good cook. I know she doesn't look like the type but believe me, Saraph, the woman is insane with a knife... in more ways than one."

 

-----

 

Ezrea rubbed her hands through her hair viciously as she left the house, both irritated with herself and Gareth. Firstly, with herself, due to her actions. She had allowed the man to read her like a book again! He knew! Dammit! But what was even worse was how he had simply written it away like he always did! How did he do that so casually!? And why was this guy so damn important anyway? He didn't look like a soldier at all. Besides, she didn't want to have some guy with issues like that to be in the guild, especially not around her. Sometimes, you had to move on! There was no way this guy was worth Gareth's time and certainly not hers! Definitely not! Assuredly not!

But here she was, stomping with great effort towards her place of solitude. This place was the only true place where she felt at home. She had commanded it be built after she had gained her place at Gareth's side. With it, she had trained a bunch of ragtag recruits into SOMETHING worth sending onto the battlefield. She only wished she could have beaten on them a little longer before Gareth came in and rescued them, using some excuse like "they need to go out on the battlefield before they're completely broken."

Pft. If they couldn't handle that little amount of punishment then why in the hell did they think they could fight demons? Sure she had given one guy a really bad hit to his head but he had tried to grab her chest! She had been absolutely sure of that.

Ok, perhaps not. But it had looked like it. A lot. And that's all she had needed. Why take chances when her body was in danger, especially THAT kind of danger? Not gonna happen, boy.

She completely walked past and ignored Charles (whose door was STILL open) as he pet Zulfiqar. If she hadn't been so completely intent on her current goal, she may have paused and contemplated just how many people that damned demon had managed to woo to his side. But instead she forgot about it the moment she saw it.

No. This was more important. She'd break this man in two. How dare he try and get into their guild without her consent? Gareth should know better than that! It's not just his decision anymore! She had a hand in it too, dammit.

Ok, maybe she wouldn't kill him. Gareth wouldn't forgive her (though she was sure she didn't care). Still, she WOULD make him think twice about joining the guild. Oh yes. He'd go running back to wherever he came from to mourn more about something he should have given up on long ago.

Alright. That was a bit callous. No. It was the right thing to think. And she would tell him. Oh yes. She'd make certain he knew how much he needed to man up.

She was almost to her sanctuary now. Oh, it brought back memories of all those painful screams the recruits gave when she threw them out of the arena without any trouble at all. Not a single one had bested her. Oh yes, some had come close. She prided herself on the fact that most of them had been from other Destruction guilds. They had only known training with demon arms. Well, they learned pretty quick how much you needed them when you didn't have them. That's not how it should be. Oh no. And she made sure they understood.

Ah well. Those days were over, at least for now. Some people still showed up for a bit of sparring which she reluctantly gave. She'd defeat them again and again. They never got better than a certain point. Or, rather, she just didn't allow them to get up after the first time. Normally, they'd stop coming to spar after a while.

Gareth... however... She slowed down for a moment. He always came, each day, back when she had did that all the time. He'd enter the arena as the recruits watched, his gloves still on his hands. He wouldn't use them though. He was honorable. She still chided him for it though. Any excuse to point out his flaws... though he didn't have many.

She smiled a bit as she thought about it. He had always come to see her, to face her himself, so the other recruits could see it. He had been the first man to beat her in fair combat. It had surprised her.

Even more surprising was that he never did it by taking her down or forcing her to the floor. He always managed to beat her so that she still looked good doing it. He never made anyone look bad if he could help it. He was... someone she had never thought existed.

She looked up at the walls of the makeshift arena, her sword hung over her back loosely as she remembered all the things that had happened in those two, short weeks. The man she had been determined to hate for any reason had made her love him in the end. You couldn't hate him. Gareth did everything for those around him and not himself. It was foolishness. It should be punished. Someone should have made him understand what the world was. But no one could bring themselves to do it. It was just.. too cruel.

But his optimism and happiness was contagious. Being around him made the world feel at peace again, as though there was no threat of war. He made a room brighter when he entered. He hadn't even made himself the leader of a guild. He'd tried to make other people leader but people still followed him instead. They wanted his light to lead them when they had thought all hope was lost.

She had been sure he would fall in battle. Then, she had seen him fight for the first time. The hatred, the anger, and the fury that he hid within himself every day came to light. He showed no mercy or remorse. If they came to him, he threw them back. Each one that approached fell before him one at a time. The more that came, the more enraged he became. But she had been horrified to realize that he no longer saw demons or humans - only targets.

Only she knew that now. Gareth had told her the truth. When he fought, he lost control of his inhibitions. He could kill someone who had called him friend and not even remember. He didn't know if he had before. So, Ezrea had done him one favor - she had placed all the troops far from the actual conflict so that Gareth could face them alone and not worry about hitting them. Sure, they had questioned it, but you don't question Ezrea. Gareth, maybe, slightly...

But Ezrea did not accept questions, only results.

And that's all she would accept now. With resolve, she headed into the arena. She sat down upon the steps leading to the stage and laid backward, staring at the sky.

Now, she would wait. She doubted he would come. He wouldn't be brave enough. Content in that fact, she closed her eyes and began to think of other things.

 

----

 

Twenty miles south of these events, another party of some note began to form, though they are not the important ones. They, though unknowing of this fact, shall be the ones who escort the lord of a guild and lady who serves him lovingly towards their current destination.

As such, most of them will not receive names. Their histories shall, sadly, not be explained as much. The grand tale of the mysterious treasure chest in the hidden demon cave that they performed won't be mentioned more than this, nor shall their gallant rescue of a fellow party who was dying on the battlefield. Lastly, we certainly won't go into detail about the affair between the leader's wife and one of the young recruits. Also, he doesn't know that that's happening, so you shouldn't tell him. He'd be quite irate, to be sure.

None of this, though perhaps interesting for gossip or some other nonsense, is not necessary to the story - so it won't be a part of it. The true necessary fact to be told is that currently the leader (who has an unfaithful wife and is already oblivious to most everything else) was looking for a pair of hands to help protect them on their way to a town called Hope. Their shipment was a bunch of materials which (as mentioned in a previous narration) a pastor and the leader of Hope had been asking for for quite a while.

They didn't know this. They just knew they needed to deliver it for their regular payment. That's all they really needed to know. Getting the job done was what mattered. But why the hell were they all the way out there anyway? Most jobs were easy but this was real demon territory here. Most of their shipments were done to the minor bubbles that were closer to the major ones. Normally, those weren't as far as Hope was, nor as close as Hope was to the known danger zone.

But that didn't matter to them. If they died, it didn't mean much. If they succeeded, yay. They just wanted to be paid in this day and age.

And that was all the leader wanted. He needed, desirably, some strong, suitable hands that could wield some weapons (maybe even with demon arms, hopefully), protect their caravan, and (most importantly) accept very little of the profit in return. Needless to say, most people didn't want this sort of offer.

But that didn't stop him, no sir. This man, though oblivious and sometimes obnoxious, was also very stubborn. When money was involved, the game began. Now it was a matter of who would play.

So, when he heard that a pair of strong-looking individuals (he'd heard tell one of them was a GUILD leader to boot!) looking for a (god be praised, if he's still up there after all this!) good way to get to Hope, he, of course, was only to happy to oblige.

"Now, if only this damn pair of people were easy to find. What had they said? A mark? The hell does that mean? A scar maybe?" the caravan leader, whose name may actually not be mentioned at all, said. "A brand? You need to be more specific. What use is it if you ain't?"

As he searched the crowd, he worried if some other caravan had grabbed them. But was anyone else going to Hope? He had no time to think about that. Always assume you had competition in this line of work.

He walked for quite a while among the people until finally he snorted in derision. This was hopeless. It probably was a joke. Why would anyone want to go up there anyway? The last he heard was that there had been a good amount of people going and then suddenly no one went at all. Some said the town had actually been destroyed. Well, they were ordering things so unless demons could write (which, those in Hope could but he didn't know that at all.) then some human was still alive there and was willing to pay for things.

That's all he needed to know. But, finally, though he was a patient person, he began to head back to his caravan.

"Stupid marks and rumors. Yeah, a cross-shaped mark is VERY descriptive. Like I know what a guild leader and his woman friend look like these days. Do they even know how many there are? Besides, why would they want to go to Hope anyway? I'm not that lucky." he said, audibly, as though hoping it would do SOMETHING. "Dammit."

Somehow, though he didn't know it, his words had been in the proximity of a young woman nearby known as Karin, who actually has a name because she is actually important to our story - perhaps more than she knows.

But did she hear him or not?

Edited September 21, 2014 by Thaelasan