LoKaW: Resurrection

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Smoke. He smelled it. Felt it. Hell, he tasted it even.
He groaned.
"Where..." He began, but was stopped by a shadow falling over him.
"You are in The Land of Offa Topiq." The shadow said.
"Who are you?" He asked.
"My name, is Moose." Said the shadow, then a hand reached forward. "And I was sent to save you."
"Who am I?" He asked weakly.
Moose drew up to his full height.
"You, are the chosen one." Moose said. "Lord Zethor."

Elsewhere.

She sprinted through the ruins of her once great Kingdom, unsure of what was in front of her, and terrified of what was behind.
Everything had been okay. Then a something happened. She had been in her quarters, then she woke up, amongst the ruins of her Stables.
She didn't know what was going on, but she was Scared.

"What do you want from me?" Zethor asked.
"You have something." Moose sighed. "I don't know what. But you are going to save us all."
"Where are we going?" Came another question.
"We're going to see my Friends, the Mods." Moose said.

It was closing in fast. Whatever was chasing her was mad. Mad and relentless. No matter how many crumpled brick walls she put between her, and it, it kept coming.
She looked to her right, and saw a Bay Mare.
"Yes!" She said silently, altering her course, for the horse. She kept upon the mare's back, not caring for the lack of reins. She spurred the horse up, and it raced across the semi- clear plain.
She finally looked behind her, and when she did, she screamed.

"Did you hear that?" Zethor asked Moose.
"Yes." Moose said, listening quietly. Another scream rang out.
"This way!" Moose yelled, spreading angel like wings from his robe. "Grab my shoulder and hold on."
They flew. Over the ruinous kingdom, above the smoke, and they saw a girl racing across a cluttered plain, something hideous, vicious, on her tail.
"Go!" Zethor yelled.
"I'm trying!" Came the reply.

It easily plucked her off her horse, slamming her on the ground hard.
She gasped for breath, when it leaned over her. She saw a piglike face, with three horns, and lizard like eyes. It was vaguely humanoid, but it radiated menace. It blew a puff of breath in her face, and she gagged on the stench.
The mouth of the beast was twice as wide as her. At least it wouldn't take long.
It pinned her, obviously enjoying her squirming, then it snarled.
She let out one shrill scream, then as the monster lifted her up, a dark black sword emerged through it's eyeball.
It fell, limp, lifeless, and she rolled out of the way. Standing on the Back of the Monster, was Zethor, Moose still flying in the air overhead.
He climbed down.
"Who are you?" He asked quietly.
"Who are you?" She replied stubbornly.
"I don't really know, I just figured that out."
She sighed and shifted her weight as Moose descended.
"My name is..."

 

Chapter 2: Set the Stage

Ton Luap sat cross legged in his tent.
"Concentrate... Who am I?"
He didn't know. He had tried for hours now, but was still drawing blanks.
He woke up in the Desert. Next to a like of Dead Soldiers. Soldiers bearing his War Banner.
He had set up camp later that day, and began to think.
"Something is going on." He said aloud. "Something Big."

He heard the soft crunching sound of a boot on Sand, and quickly drew his Battle Axe.
"Who's there?" He asked briskly.
"Maybe I should be asking you that." came the reply.
"My name is Ton. Ton Luap." Said Ton, his words right and forced.
"I'm Tigera." Came the reply once more. "Mind telling me about the pile of Bodies back there?"
"Step where I can see you." Ton ordered.
A heavyset man stepped into the entryway. His armor was thick, and he wore a Scorpion Like helmet that covered his face, save his Bright green eyes.
Something about Tigera unsettled Ton. He yelled, then brought his Axe up over his head, in a vicious arc. But he caught only air. He wheeled, and swung his weapon at Tigera, who easily sidestepped it, then slammed Ton upside the chest.
"Gyaah!" Ton grunted, falling to his knees. He wasn't wearing armor, and the blow completely took the air out of him. Likely, it broke ribs as well.
"Get. Up." Tigera commanded.
Ton struggled to his feet, preparing for the blow that would reunite him with his loved ones. But it never came. Tigera picked up the axe, and handed it back.
"What are you doing?" Ton asked.
"I recognize a headstrong Noob when I see one." Tigera said. "Saddle up. Take only what you must. We are going to see the mods."
"Why me?" Asked Ton, brushing himself off.
"Because you are connected somehow."

Meanwhile...

"... My name is... Marian. Lady Marian." She uttered, clearly out of breath and in shock.
Zethor shot a quizzical look at moose, as if to say, "does that mean anything to you?"
Moose stepped forward. "My Lady. We must escort you to the Mods."
She took a step back. "What if I don't want to go?"
Moose sighed. "We can't make you."
Zethor chuckled. "We can't?"
"Be quiet." Moose said. "Marian, something has gone seriously wrong. We need your help."
She thought for a moment, then nodded.
"Okay."

 

Zethor took a swallow of the rich nutty ale. The Writer's Cafe was a quiet corner of KaW, and it gave you time to think. Neither Moose, nor Marian had said a word since they arrived.
Zethor decided to break the silence.
"When are they coming?" He asked.
"Soon." Moose replied.
Zethor shrugged and carved into the bar with his dagger.
"Hey!" A slurred cry rang out across the room. "You're a Mod ain't ya!"
"Oh, God." Moose sighed.
The man walked, or more accurately staggered, across the room toward Moose.
"What do you want?" Moose asked wearily.
"I wanna know what the hell is goin' on!" The drunk declared.
"So do we all." Moose said, his eyes glinting dangerously.
"So," the man pointed his finger at Moose's nose, "Tell me!"
"If you do that again, you won't be getting that hand back." Said Moose, his voice dangerously low.
"What?" The drunk laughed, and poked Moose again. "This-" he didn't get to finish the sentence. In a heartbeat, Moose had taken his Scythe from his robes, and sliced the hand off. The Scythe was back within his robe, before the hand hit the ground.
"GAHH!" The drunk exclaimed, now completely sober. He fell backwards, and the entire Inn came alive.
Zethor knew what was about to happen. When you fought somebody on a night like this, in a place like this, it was like lighting a fuse.
He drew his two swords, and sliced at the first person to come near him. It was a solid blow.
A Dagger shot at his face, and he instinctively sidestepped, then stabbed upward on the arm.
He glanced at Moose. The Scythe was moving so fast, it was a silver blur.
He looked at Marian, who was making use of her Daggers.
Then he let himself get lost in the explosion of violence. Slice, Stab, Dodge, Repeat.
It seemed like hours, until he heard something.
"ENOUGH!" The words rang loud over the commotion.
Zethor looked at the entryway. A group of men dressed like Moose, were there, as well as a man in Scorpion armor, and a Knight.
"Be Gone!" The leader said. The Fighters dissapeared, leaving only Moose, Marian, and Zeth.
"My Lord..." Moose began. But was abruptly stopped.
"We will deal with you soon." The leader said, focusing on Zeth.
"So you, are the Chosen One?" He said, the distaste obvious in his voice.
"Yes. Problem?" Zeth asked.
"You have heart." Said the mod, circling him. "But you are afraid."
Zeth gulped. He had seen what the Mods could do.
"I, am AceTown." He said. "Now Bow to me."
"I bow to nobody..." Zethor said, quivering.
"You are the chosen one." Ace repeated. "So we cannot kill you."
Ace signaled to his men, who drew their Scythes. "We can however, kill your friend."
Sensing what was to come, Moose drew his Scythe, but it was too late. The Mods surrounded him, then circled him, their speed increasing until they were little more than a blur.
"NO!" Zethor said, but was slammed in the gut.
When they stopped circling him, he fell to his knees, covered in slight cuts. Thousands of them. He screamed in pain.
Two of the Mods Walked to Zethor holding him, while Ace walked over to Moose.
"Moose, Moose, Moose." Ace chided gently. "I always knew I would make an example out of you one day."
"Just... Do it..." Moose whispered against the pain. "Please..."
"Always fighting for the Users." Ace said, drawing his Scythe high in the air.
"Now look where it got you." He brought the Scythe down, and felt it pass through.
Zethor didn't watch. He heard the sickening slice. Heard the loud thump, of the lifeless body hitting the floor. Heard the head roll.
Tonluap was dumbfounded. Here, he thought the Mods were allies. Yet they just beheaded one of their own.
Ace Wheeled his attention on Zethor and the others.
"I have need of you soon. Until then, be gone."
He snapped his fingers, and it was so.

 

Sweet bro.