Regeneration - Prologue (Outside of the central city of Hathkar, in the monk's cave) "We need him up, now." Four miniscule, hooded monks crowded around a small, wooden altar. It was stained in blood, with cups and bowls filled with gold surrounding it. Bones littered the floor, and a skull was on top of the altar. "Well how do you expect to do that?" One asked, pointig at the altar. A makeshift shrine, with one person's skull and bones arranged to be as if he or she was lying on top of this altar. "We must proceed. Is the black ink ready?" A fifth monk appeared from a steel door, just next to the altar. He carried a bowl that was filled to the brim with a shimmering, black ink. "Bring him back, Astoh. This man is needed to become more than an assassin. He is required to be your agent. Erunik, agent of Astoh. He cannot be harmed again, he is the last prophet of your holy order. Died ten years ago, in the fire that consumed the last great power that apposed King Javed." The monk with ink began to design a picture on the skull as they talked. The second monk continued, "King Javed must die, Erunik is the only man to ever kill a king and live to tell the tale. We need his experience, not only for Javed but for the dragons." The picture began to take shape, a lizard on his face, the eyes and snout in line with the skull's similar features. The first monk then said, "These dragons, your people, have fallen from glory. Erunik must ascend beyond ours, and into yours. Please, hear us." All five began to throw dust upon the body, and the moon changed to a deep, dark maroon. These monks backed away, the altar glowed. They continued to chant indistinctive words, the skull began to float. The dust swirled around the body, and flesh began to form. "Who dares to disrupt my rest?" The body spoke, an omniscient voice overpowing the cave and reverberating over and over. "Erunik, we require your services." The first monk stepped forward, only to be forced backwards to the wall. "I have served already. I completed my mission, now I am rewarded with what I seek the most. What more could I want?" Erunik's eyes began to form, and they focused on one monk to answer. "You've killed two kings. We need you for another." "Ah, ah, ah. I suppose it would be a wonderous challenge. Coming back for one, final kill. But this must be the hardest, if you must require my services. And this is none other than..." "Highest King Javed." The skull fixated on this man, as the hands began to form in mid air. The process seemed to pick up, as muscles surrounded the bones. His jaw began to form into a grin, as the monks all backed away. "Let the game begin."
NOTE: DON'T POST HERE. EVER. Oh yeah also I switched to first person. Hope you enjoy! Regeneration - Chapter One (Two hours following the intial revival of the assassin Erunik) I gazed into the mirror. The monks seemed to take to worshiping dragons, and that killing the man who killed me would somehow bring them back. However, this picture of me, the man in the mirror, was not me. I could make the outlinings of the scales drawn onto my face in some sort of blackish tatoo. The shadows of the eyes seemed to ward off any sense of friendliness and glared back at me. Worst though, it seemed as though my mouth jutted forward, smiliar to a snout. The tatoo brought my face to another life, one of a dragon. How could these simple, lowly monks manage to do anything so complicated and meticulous as this in minutes? Maybe- "Erunik, we cannot allow you to gawk at your appearance all day. We must proceed with your training." A monk approached me from behind. Glancing at his reflection, a sword along with familiar armor was in his grasp. They managed to piece together the assassin's armor, lost almost a decade ago. It was scattered so that no one could attempt to mock my previous deeds in this awful armor, forged in the pits of hell. "How were you able to gather all of them? I myself took years just creating these pieces, and watched as the Old Man placed each on the four corners of the world." I rushed out of my seat, reclaiming my glorious armor. Just wearing a piece was ruled treacherous as I learned during my execution. "Just as we were able to paint your face in minutes. Never doubt Astoh." I glanced at this, and motioned toward the door. I did not, and will not, change outfits in front of any man. The monk, realizing the movement, exited the room with haste and left me with myself. I began to strip off the robes these monks clothed me with. I was doubting if they were monks at this point, or if these organization ran much, much deeper than I suspected. My assassins in training, a group most likely in hiding ten years after my death, operated under the cover of priests and sisters. Foolish of me to forget a simple trick I once used. I reached for the first piece of this armor, the chestplate. It was a dark and mysterious steel. The armor glimmered in the dim light, and revealed ancient carvings all over the chest. It was a glorious sight, however time forbid me to examine it further. The gauntlet and leggings followed, both black and filled you with a sense of wonder. They were trimmed with gold letters, tiny and in a foreign language. "Et' alko, Kal'ia. Sans poquilta, Qui falma." I whisper the phrase, it's translation: Be steady, God. For without your aim, I am blind. I wasn't much for religion, however that phrase helped me in a dark time. The hood came next. It contained two sides, night and day. A completely white outside that was reversible if I wished to use it at night to conceal my face. A cloak trailed the hood, with the same design as the hood. However, on the bottom of the cloak, a sealable pouch sat. It was meant for my coins, as it was safer and less detectable than a jingling purse that clung to my side. Finally, I reached for my sword. The sword was an heirloom, used thousands of years throughout assassins until me, the last one. I could not bare to give this to another man, even in my blood. This blade is a symbol to those who remain in the order. The sword appears silver, with gold lining. If you tilted it, you can discover the diamonds and emeralds mixed inside. It would take all kings to pour their money into a fund just to create a half of this blade. "Are you finished? We must proceed!" The monk knocked impatiently on the door as I prepared. I glanced in the mirror again. I appeared twenty, just when my adventures and trials started almost thirty years ago. I no longer contained grey hair, sagging lines, nor fat on my face. The years of aging seemed to be negated on this fresh, new body. Hopefully I would be able to live longer than forty now, and not be old from the riches and glory that now seemed trivial. I pushed open the door, and found the monk awaiting me near the entrance of a large training area. "Can we proceed?" I mocked him, asking the question. He merely ignored me and hurried across to another section that was barricaded. The other monks seemed frightened, and I walked over toward them. As I entered about midway, the entrance shut and guarding it was a steel door that I presumed locked. "You must learn to kill them." A monk said, and the other four chanted again. "Kill who? What is the meaning of this? Are you summoning guards? I've killed two king's before. Why must you make me prove myself once more?" I took a step toward the door when the earth shook. I heard a low, rumbling noise. I encountered only one before, but it is unmistakable for anything but it. A dragon. The dragon appeared from no where, most likely conjured by these twisted monks from a realm long forgotten. I prepared my sword, not knowing what to expect. The dragon spewed its breath, blazes danced the area. I covered beneath my cloak, it being fireproof. However, dragons have much worse than a deadly breath. The dragon lunged, myself unready. The massive monster snapped closer with every step, and I managed to roll away at the last second. The dragon turned to me, ready to advance again. It repeated, and I only partially avoided it, lunging my sword in the beast's side as it continued beyond me. Pulling the blade out, I heard it's terrible screech. Blood oozed out the side, bones and muscle visible from the deep flesh wound. It attempted to rebound, but the dragon could not hold. I reminded myself to prepare in case it would charge again, and also noted the location on the side. I was lucky this time, however the next might not prove to be as quick. It, however, was easily killed. My first blood in this vessel, easily able to execute my will. I turned to the monks, knowing what my next kills would be. "Congratulations." The five exited their contraption, and approached me. I kept my sword out, and lunged at the first. We wrestled, however I easily overpowered him. I reached my blade to his neck, pressing hard. "I will murder you all, and let your bodies decay in this room until I retrieve them for my crowning ceremony. What say all of you before you-" The pain was awful, immense. It was not from exhaustion, it was not from some condition I knew. But I let go of my weapon and the man, then fell to my knees. It was all over, especially in my arms. I felt something in me, shifting all the other parts. I could not breathe, nor think. I only felt pain, millions of knifed digging inside and outside of my body. I finally came around later, on top of the familiar bed I woke up in after the resurrection. A monk stood over me. "Now, if you must. We have to show you this." I followed, still num and aching from whatever condition I had. Four other monks surrounded a pool, filled in the spot where I killed the dragon. I glanced into the reflection. My skin changed to a darker, seemingly greenish version. The sight sickened me, and I could not tell why. My face morphed a little, resembling more of the paint upon it. I looked as if I was a dragon. "As you can see," One monk began, "you have a... Condition. Killing dragons delay the changes, but do not stop them. Only one, Sütharl, can cure this. If you slay him when he appears, eight days from now, then you may be able to salvage your humanity, Erunik." I glared at this man, "And that is why you want me to kill Javed because..." "Sütharl plans to reappear in front of a great and diverse mass, like at a king's funeral, to enslave those humans as his puppets on earth. If you can stop him, then a healer from his ranks will be able to save you." I watched this man, he seemed to be hiding something. "I have seen you worship them. Why try and stop it?" I quizzed him, hoping to find some reason behind all of this. "We want dragons to return, not enslave us." The man sounded confident, but something was missing. I could feel it, but I followed along. "We will fill you in later with the details of your assignment. But now, you are required at Hathkar to meet someone." Hathkar was the location of the High King's castle, and also the headquarters for every major organization on Igaf, the continent. My own assassin club used to be run here, ten years ago. It was sacked the day I was caught, so visiting may fill me in on details. "What am I supposed to wear that is not as obvious as this?" I pointed at my armor. One monk already had a wolf pelt ready, silver and white hire mixed around. It covered nearly all of my body, and no one would be able to differentiate between my shoes and black boots. "Let us proceed." One motioned, and the two of us left the cave to the real world.
Regeneration - Chapter Two (On the path between Hathkar and the monk's cave) The cart rattled with every step the horses took. It creaked constantly, an annoying noise we could not help. I continued to stare out the window, in awe and wonder at what had changed. The landscape was filled with lush trees all over. Flowers bloomed, trees overgrew their limits, and meadows dotted the sprawling plane. When I was alive, ten years ago, this paradise was a wasteland. The king wished to pursue moving the province into a healthier land, but trying to move the castle proved futile. I never imagined this reality. My sphere of influence was at one point larger than High King Javed, but he hunted down my agents to the last. This view, in Hathkar, did not seem even possible when I was at my strongest. I turned to the monk. "How was this done? What is this black magic?" He laughed, entertained with my comment. The monk, a black haired fellow, replied, "It is ingenuity. Wizards were brought in from all of Igaf. Everyone concurred that something must have been done to lively up the place. Now, it stretches farther than most of the kingdom itself. " I returned to my window's view, with the barely visible reflection. It was a monster staring back. My face seemed to mimic the paint on my face to a point. A snout began to form, along with scales and a greenish tint. My nose was smaller, less accented on my face. The nostrils larger, gave of a serpentine look like my eyes. My eyes, normally amber, were tinted yellow and squinted. I looked like the natives from across the sea, a small group of individuals that were from the other continent beyond the sea. The worst part was my hair. It receeded, appearing to be older. The black seemed to be lighter, almost brown. I could not stand the look, and the carriage stopped in the middle of the road, unexpectedly. "What seems to be the issue?" One of the monks asked, however the driver squealed in response. Rushing out of the carriage, I faced a familiar foe throughout my travels, a troll. It was no exception to the classic description. This troll was massive, towering over the wooden carriage containing the monks. It had one eye, partially squinted to find it's dinner inside the club. At it's aid, the troll used a metal spike attached to a tree branch. Warts covered the troll's body and bruises spotted his skin. Reaching for my sword, and crouch behind the troll who was unaware I had left the car, I made my move. Quickly climbing to the neck, I sliced to the point the troll simply went limp and fell to the ground. Standing up, I wiped the dust gathered on my armor. Unfortunately, trolls travel in packs of three. The other two quickly appeared out of the forest, charging. They were upset their sibling was killed like a pig set up for slaughter. One threw his club at me, striking my chestplate. The shock threw me back, sending against a tree. His sister proceeded to chase, forcing to leave my new cloak ripped against the log. I ran around a few trunks, attempting to confuse and halt the troll. She, as I planned, quickly became disoriented during her pursuit and stopped to find my location. I quickly copied my previous strategy, spilling her blood against the stained sword. Her brother, unaware of his sister's demise, returned to the monks. When I returned, they dispatched the troll before I could return. It surprised me how quickly and efficiently they did so, leaving utterly no marks on the troll. I took the reins, the horses now calm. After the monks returned to their seats, we set off again to Hathkar. "Do you know what has become of my guild and the members?" I yelled over the noise generated by the carriage. "I think you will find out what happened after you met this man." The monks, of course, replied with a less than satisfactory response to my question. I sighed, disappointed with the response. The road seemed endless, and I returned to thinking about my future. "We have a question for you, Erunik, agent of Astoh." One monk asked. "And why am I to reply when you refuse my requests?" I asked, wanting to find out what they truly thought. "Because we asked. Now, what was death like?" I glanced back, peering at his coward eyes. He was afraid of dying, and I am the only one who knows what death is actually like. "As this agent of Astoh, which you continually refuse to explain it's meaning of Astoh, I deny to describe death in any shape or form." I slowly faced forward, wanting to watch the flame of hope disappear in his pathetic eyes. I planned to kill them all after I was healed. Death is glorious, and none should fear the wonderful presence of death. "Oh." He murmured, and I smirked. What a waste of a dream. Hathkar could be made out in the distance over the trees, maybe a mile away. The grey walls stood out against the lush landscape, with the sun at high noon. "We must rest," I stated, "or we may not have enough in the horses to finish the travel in one day." The monks whispered in the back, and after concluding some meeting they ushered forward, wanting to finish the travel. Coming up, a guard outpost stood hidden in the trees. Made of a mix of wood and stone parts, it camouflaged into the environment until approached closely. I halted at the closed gate in front of us, having no idea how to continue. These towers were not erected until some time after my death. "Quick!" I whispered back, reaching my hand. "I misplaced about my silver pelt torn against a tree. Hand me a robe else we may be arrested." They refused to pass one up, and I was forced to use the hood on my cloak. A guard opened the door slightly, and exited the building. He approached my carriage with his sword drawn. This man, shorter than me by a head, wore silver armor crusted with jewels. If this turned against me, I would retrieve that for many gold pieces. The man began by saying, "Welcome to Hathkar, a city of power and fame. You sir, are obviously familiar with searching any strange transportation carriages, and yours in no exception." Grinning, I replied, "Of course. You may search all you want." Maybe those monks counted as troll babies and would be slaughtered on the spot, dealing with my problems. The man entered the carriage, but I faced forward. After what seemed to be hours, and a lot of hushed whispers, he retreated to his first position. "You may proceed. No more guard checks will be necessary as long as you have this." The man pulled out a paper, and opened the main gate. Light flooded in, and revealed the farming planes that scattered across the city. It had grown, no doubt. The sun was beginning to hide behind the castle, with each of the three moons barely visible. "Wonderful, isn't it?" I told myself, and started the horses forward. The castle and surrounding town, just ahead, stood as the focal point around all other things. Just as it was before, however deserts swallowed farms before the transformation the monks claimed to have happened. I glanced over to a farm, and the animals were gathering to be sent to a barn or storage building. I felt strangely connecting, with my recent changes. I reached to my face, and felt the skin. It curved oddly, like a snout. "It should feel as honor, being blessed as to become a dragon." I did not turn to debate, instead I asked another question. "Who was that man back there?" "The last child of Javed, Prince Rey of Hathkar. Javed, being fifty, cannot bless any more children and still teach them. Other kingdoms may then attack, with our leadership being an outdated man and his youngster." "Is that why you want him dead, so another kingdom attacks?" I thought these monks evil, and would not doubt that this was true. "No. If Javed is dead and we assassinate all the other king's of Igaf, Rey promised our hearts desire." The monks were shockingly self-centered, and I felt inside a deeper circle than I imagined possible. "So you plan on using the funeral to kill these men also, in addition to me stopping the dragon Sütharl? What is your desire?" "Astoh's will." The monk replied, and I relaxed. These monks, amazingly more combat and political than any other group of men I have met, only committed these wondrous deeds for a mythical god. I was never one to believe, but maybe that was to change. Maybe my life after death would now change because of this incursion. A horn interrupted my thought, as a massive draw bridge lowered in front us. The castle and town were lying before us, a familiar sight. I could smell the market, hear the laughter, and see all the colors that mixed together in decorations. Hathkar, the center of Igaf. It was a fitting name. The monks directed me toward the stable next to the gate, and we left the carriage in a stall. Next to the stables, a hooded man silently watched over the market. Two monks approached him, and I followed behind. This man, my height, took two steps closer to me. "How... What is this witchcraft?" The man asked, his voice vague but familiar to me. "We promised him. Now it is time to work." A monk replied. "Who is he?" I asked, and the tall man chuckled under the black robe. "It's been a while." He removed his hood.
NOTE: This is a bit wordy. I tried to include a lot of background knowledge you might want to know. Also, POST FEEDBACK ON THE FEEDBACK THREAD. Regeneration - Chapter Three (Inside Hathkar's village square) James was standing before me. The man that swore to protect me, no matter what. He had even tried to save me from jail, but that was how they discovered our headquarters. I assumed he had died in the fire, but this changed it all. "But you died." James told me, and I laughed, quoted an assassin law. "'Death is only the beginning of something far greater than something we will ever imagine.' It seems you have forgotten some things while I have been astray." He hugged, a friendly gesture, and released me. James started in a direction, pulling up his hood. We weaves through the shops, and talked as we continued to follow him. I asked a question I had been dying to know, "Is our organization still active?" "I will reveal to you everything you want to know, but for now be quiet. Watchful eyes and acute ears may be prying into our conversation." I glanced around, the alley obviously too small to fit two men or a horse in between. Why was he so paranoid? The path, familiar in an odd sense to me, narrowed as a wooden door stood at the end. It was our old headquarters, still functional. The door at a glance looked normal, however upon close inspection was lined with gold. It also appeared to be new, as if rough times had passed. The last assassin house on Igaf, possibly the whole world. After most of my masters and teachers left long before this time, the continent's fear of us died, terror was uprooted from the hearts of many and instilled was a sense of safety. These fools, however underestimated our remaining members. The few that did not join the exodus to another land reaped the benefits of knowing our secrets. As our numbers dwindled to handful, and most safe houses shut down, we pulled together and started a final monastery until we could amass a larger network. I was the last great assassin left, and even death seemed to recognize my significance as I was brought back. James though was no where near my level, or may possibly be. He led the few after our HQ was presumed destroyed, and must have restored it to a workable condition. The door opened after James operated an odd mechanism, and I walked through first. Light streamed in the small room from a crack in the ceiling. Shelves lined the walls, books contained all over. A few makeshift beds and desks set up, with various men and women sleeping and working. Papers and quills covered most of the desks. Chests were barely visible, some empty while others bursting with gold. No one was recognizable, but I was happy. James kept it alive, a dream slowly dying. "James, how did you manage to keep this running?" James grinned, and looked at the monks. They nodded, and the monks left the room. James sat down at a nearby table, and I followed. "They promised me ten minutes to catch up before we continue." "Ten minutes? What did they do here, James?" "Let's start in the beginning. After we were sacked, and you killed, our count was four. Angelica, Suzi, and I wanted to continue the tradition, but Andrew wished for it to stop. After that disagreement, Andrew killed Suzi and wounded Angelica before I killed him. While Angelica was being patched up, I managed to save up enough gold to restore a portion of the building and gather some weapons. I managed to find the royal stash, courtesy of the Old Man, and caught the attention of another man in Fairfield." I had been there once, on a mission when we extended our services to other cities and towns. That was another, and Fairfield used to be the best customer source. Fairfield also housed the largest port, which at the time before the Old Man died, traveled men and women to other continents. "This man turned out to be a politician that was power hungry, aren't they all? Anyways, I then set up shop in Fairfield, and Angelica stayed here. This room," He motioned all around the headquarters, "Is our least busiest area. Only master assassins allowed, and only for a short period. After Fairfield, our operations exploded and new member recruitment was easy after. The old guild may have been larger, but we are now getting there, Erunik." I sat up, "You mean to tell me you've increased our size by how much?" "We still obey the tenants. Our society is a strict and silent one, but some of the old ways have been abandoned." I glared at him, how could he erase tradition? "What old ways?" I pressed him for answers, "And how much larger?" "Like worshipping death old ways. That was the reason your 'masters and teachers' all killed themselves. Because they saw 'Enlightenment' through death, but we are a family, not suic-" "How much bigger?" I interrupted him, after he hit a nerve. "We operate in Fairfield, Hathkar, Swingston, and Polpa." "Why did you bring me back?" I asked, but James gave me a puzzled look. "I would have earlier if I knew how to. The monks did that. Erunik, you can't possibly trust them." Just then, I heard a nearby door open. Glancing over, I was appalled. Angelica walked in, much older than I left her. Her hair now grey and long, wearing a silky white robe. She had lost weight, now looking like a ghost and barely visible arms through the dress. She seemed to think herself a queen as she approached me. Angelica hugged me, but I pushed her away. "You have erased some if not all of the tenants. How dare you hug me." Angelica backed away as I scolded her. "We must change if we are to survive." She turned her back, "I thought you'd be happy with these changes after watching all of your friends die." "Never. They wished to leave us, and I let them." "Still," James entered the conversation, "They cannot be trusted. We've made deals with them before but these 'monks' are much more deadly than appear to be. They have an agenda, and you are simply a pawn Erunik. They don't care about you." "Listen, I have something to show you before they come back. I do not know if they want you to see, but I have to." I reached for my hood. "What's wrong, Erunik?" "Well first, changing the tenants. Second, refusing to accept death as lord and savior is against the old ways, and-" "Erunik, focus." James has changed, that much is certain. I sighed, and pulled off my hood. James sat there, appalled. I was not sure if it had changed to an even worse degree, but Angelica came over to me and stared directly at my eyes. "The monks have spelled me, of some sort. They continue to insist that if I slay dragons, it will stall but not halt the advances. The only cure, or so they claim, is for me to summon and defeat some dragon named Sütharl, then find a healer that is under his control." James and Angelica looked at each other, then back at me. "Sütharl is a very, very dangerous dragon that attacked five years ago. Are these fanatics apart of his ranks?" I heard Angelica gasp, and then state, "James, maybe these were the same men that killed our assassins in Polpa. Erunik," she turned to me, "Did they mention anything of a god of some sorts?" "Astoh. They refer to me as agent of Astoh." Angelica looked distraught. "This is worse than we thought." She said, and looked at James, "We have to move them, and escape here. We can't risk losing them, James." "Losing who? What is this you speak of?" I asked, but was shrugged off. "We can't tell you Erunik. And Angelica, you have to keep them there. It is our only chance of gathering that information." "And why not?" I interrupted James, and he glared at me. "Because that might not be you! How can I trust someone that is with them, even someone like you." "Is it because of this?" I motioned at my face. "I find you, ten years after your dead, running with monks of Astoh that worship Sütharl, monks that have done much worse than you imagine. You are now changing into some creature, and expect me to trust you?" James sighed, "I want to, but this buisness can't run how you want." "Buisness? Buisness, you think this a game? James, you swore an oath! In front of the last two master assassins to have walked this world, that you would be my sword! One does not stab himself with his own sword. It is for our enemies and-" "Erunik! I just... I don't expect you to understand this but-" I stood up abruptly, and raising my voice, "Do not understand what? That you have abandoned what you swore to protect, that refusing to acknowledge tenants you wished to uphold has turned you against your foundation? And you," I stared at Angelica, "Have joined this blasphemy?" Her eyes were glittering with tears, and she shouted back, "We had no guidance! We were alone! A rat destroyed you, and we avenged you at a great cost! You suddenly come back after ten years and expect it to not have changed? We couldn't uphold tenants because we had no reminder of them. We have devolved into a criminal organization!" James joined in, "Did you wish to join your friends once you died? Because it seems as though this death you seek will never truly stay for the 'master' of death. Can't you think anymore? Have the monks clouded your eyes? They are evil. Evil." I stepped close to James, and whispered, "Can you trust me to trust you? I have no intent on anything against the assassins. After I cure this, I will return but fashion this thieves guild to fit the description of your new view as well as my old view. Does this sound adequate?" James smiled as I backed away. The monks reentered, most likely smug as they thought I had been turned from my own man. Another assassin, a new and obviously undertrained man came over with paper. This man, stumbling over his own feet, quickly retreated to his bed. "Our job, is kill High King Javed. We have a way in, out, and a large sum for those who wish for secular things." Angelica explained, "You will enter through the main gate as twilight. As your new... Appearance may be abnormal, we will have you 'escorted' by four 'guards' into the main entrance. From there, you will go up the main tower, which is connected to all other small towers through walkways. The king will be sleeping inside his northern quarters, the north tower. After you assassinate him and his guards, jump into the nearby lake and swim off. We will have horses down river for you to use." A monk added, "You will go alone. Only kill when you have to, and continue with haste. The guards search every room in about twenty minutes so no time can be wasted. Any questions?" "So where is the beer?" I asked. James sighed, and the four impostors came into the room. "We will escort you. You will be addressed as Olaf the magician." The guard told me. I sighed, knowing I would not receive anything until I wish done. We left the room, and started up the ladder. It would be a long day, indeed. ---- Post feedback on the feedback thread!
REMINDER: POST FEEDBACK ON FEEDBACK THREAD, NOT HERE. THANK YOU Oh and enjoy my story! Regeneration - Chapter Four (Approaching Hathkar's castle, inside town) "Erunik, master assassin. It has been an honor to meet someone as amazing as you are. What does it feel like, to be the last true assassin?" One of the guards escorting me constantly pestered me with these trivial questions. How it felt was amazing. No others to challenge me, and yet to be pressured and try returning assassins of old to this land. The castle looked much more worn down the closer you approached it. Grey stone bricks cracked, crumbled, and disappeared over time. Vines seeped trough cracks, maintenance neglected over time on minor structures. The walls covered the outside, permitting no one to peer inside the ancient walls. Hathkar's castle was older than kings themselves, built in a land long forgotten. "Who goes there?" A voice called out from over the gate, disguised in darkness. "Third patrol. We bring a black magician, named Olaf, who was participating in the dark arts. He I to be designated to the lower dungeons until his charges are brought before the king." The guard was visibly nervous and shaking, however the voice seemed to not notice. The gate slowly lowered, and light flowed out of the crack. The noise of horses increased, filling the silence of the path. When the gate finished, I was nudged forward into the castle by the guards, so they would be doing the correct job. "Olaf has killed many of my men." A knight walked up, string at my figure. I was hooded, of course, or else they would see my snout and possibly discover my tue identity. The knight came to breathing distance, "I should slice your head off now. But alas, I have better things to do than clean up pigs like you." I caught a glimpse of his armor, shinning gold. It was not the studded armor of the prince, but still stood out amongst others. He was most likely captain or guard master of the castle's protective guard. After he backed off, the knight turned to the other guard. "Third patrol is not supposed to return until midnight. And how did you manage to capture Olaf?" "We figured Olaf would be more fit here now than four hours of attempting to deal with him. We got lucky, found him drunk along the road." The knight laughed, and patted the guard who responded on the back. "My lad, we are all lucky some days. I congratulate you and your unit, and you may go to the barracks after jailing Olaf." The knight wandered off, disappearing behind a brick wall. The guards relaxed, and directed me forward. One moved close to me and started to whisper. "After we unbind you, here are your directions. "Go north, to the north tower. The passage ways will be after a long, spiraling staircase. You are going to be disoriented from the walk but remember, it is the THIRD passage." I nodded, and he continued, "The king has ten guard within his tower, eight that patrol the area and two inside his room. Avoid killing as much as possible, we do not wish to uproot our country. And Erunik, here." The man handed me a small, shinning dagger. "What is this?" I asked, but the guard went back into formation. The main tower, just ahead, demonstrated the wealth of Hathkar. It spiraled above all other towers, dwarfing them. It streched toward clouds, and seemed to scrape the skies. The door to enter was a small, wooden thing that stuck out against the stone that surrounded it. The guard began to scatter, and I realized this was my que. I hurried forward, pulling off the brown robe covering my armor. I pulled over the black hood, concealing my movements from most people as I was now alone inside the kingdom's heart. I quickly shut door after entering, and glanced up. The stairway did look as though it went on forever, a never-ending spiral. I sighed, and took my first step on it. The climb was awful. It appeared as the same, repeative stairs over and over. No windows to peer out of, no deformalities to distinguish how high or low you were. Just the clicking of black boots against the stone. At times I heard whistling, but it seemed to die down after a bit. Until I heard, "Stop, in the name of High King Javed!" I stared straight across, seeing the officer with red armor. The steel blended in, and emblems of families and medals of victories littered the surface. The knight, holding a javelin, approached me. "Turn around and you will be sent to the dungeon for trespassing." "Oh but of course." I mocked him, and he poked me the back, attempting to threaten me with the javelin. I laughed, preparing for my attack. "Are you ready?" I asked the officer. "For what?" He retorted, pressing the javelin against my body. I grabbed the weapon, and pulling it forward, unsheathed my dagger. The officer stumbled forward, not able to respond to my speed. I moved the dagger to face him, and his throat collided with the point. Blood splattered against my face, bleeding onto the knife and down my shoulder. I caught the limp body, and set it against the wall to add time so they required a search to find the body. "For your death." I whispered into his ear, and shut his eye lids. I wished to recite the tenants, as I do after almost every kill, but time was of the essence. This was a complication, and now twenty minutes ticked on the clock. I stood up and dashed up the stairs, not bothering to silence my steps. After ten seconds, I reached the lounge to the eight catwalks. I counted from the staircase to make sure I would enter the correct one. One, two, three was the magic number after the stairs. I hurried down the short corridor, until I halted after hearing a familiar voice below. "Now move these grains into storage. I don't want to have another issue like last time, Captain." The Prince spoke to the captain, as I watched from above. The monks wished this man dead, but I was not able to kill both him and the king, I had only a sword. I realized the pretend guard handed me a dagger, and maybe it was for killing this prince. Throwing knives and daggers were a special of mine, and aiming down was immensely easier than attempting to aim up. I glanced between the supports of the wooden walkway, waiting for a chance. He approached another door, and it was the only chance I would have that night at eliminating a high profile target. The dagger twirled as I released it. It swiftly zoomed through the air, and the prince seemed to notice something as he turned toward me. Right in between the eyes, the prince dropped dead the moment it touched. Blood poured out of his head as the captain rushed to his aid. I snickered, that one of the most powerful men in all of Igaf died at the flick of a wrist. The monks would thank me later, the plan executed earlier and may have caused a complication, but it would not be impossible to resolve. I turned back toward the north tower, and quietly approached the door. The captain cried out of my sight, having failed to protect the prince inside his own castle, and then laid down the head before realizing the major threat: the king was still at risk. I heard the bells ring, a warning system, and cursed under my breath. I had no escape, it was inside the king's bedroom. However, the bedroom would be filled soon with knights and guards, all going up the same passage I was using this instance. "Hurry!" I heard a voice below, and noticed footstep noises coming from the bottom of the main tower. I, having no other choice, inched to the edge of a cliff on the tower, and began to the outward side. The tower below seemed to stretch down for miles, a lake that appeared close enough to reach, but not quiet enough to jump. I inched further as the protectors rushed up the staircase. If I could manage to stay here for long, then the guards would eventually move Javed and I could escape. However, the cliff proved to be a challenge with every step. The bricks that supported me crumbled with every step and second, and I was not able to stay afloat. I tripped, and slipped. Grabbing onto a stray brick, I managed to catch myself and pull into a climbing position. But the brick in my hand had no cement left, and I ripped it out of the wall. Losing my balance, I tipped backwards. Maybe I would land just close enough to the lake, and be able to swim. I looked down, racing to the ground. Maybe the ground wouldn't kill me, but rather knock me ou
Short chapter, sorry. :/ REMINDER: POST FEEDBACK ON THE FEEDBACK THREAD! Regeneration - Chapter Five (Somewhere) "Huh!" I jolted awake, going stiff as I shot straight up. The room was blurry, lights glared down at me. I stood and attempting to walk to what I thought was the door, but I heard a faint voice call me. "Erunik!" James exclaimed, and ran at me. He hugged me, gripping tight, "We thought you had died again. Don't do that to me again, please." I simply nodded, still dazed and confused. I glanced at my arms, and they seemed to be greener than before. They looked scaly, and my mind could not shake the image of a massive dragon. I asked, "Where is this, James?" "Outside Fairfield. We moved your body so it could be buried where you wished. Lucky we didn't bury you yet." A monk came in, and James stared at the monk for a minute before continuing, "He'll fill you in. And Erunik, don't trust them." I was surprised that James, of all people, spoke rudely about the monk, especially in front of the man. He seemed unfazed though, his brown brow sturdy. James left, and the monk stepped forward. "We've found some new details about Astoh's power granted to you. First of all, watch." He reached for my arm and drew a knife. My arm, even greener and scalier than before, sat helplessly in his grip as he slashed my arm. I retracted in pain, however what came next shocked me. My arm healed itself in seconds. The wound stopped bleeding and, as fast the monk drew my blood, it closed. The skin changed from scab back into a scale, and I flexed my arm. It acted as though it was never hurt. I shouted at him, "This is black magic, you fowl monk! How dare you damn me here, in this of all conditions. Now I may never die again, serving this false deity of yours." The monk slapped me, and interrupted, "Astoh does not promote black magic, and he is no false deity. He did this to you, Erunik. He made you immortal, to fulfill your bargain of the contract. And no amount of complaining will change it." I moved away from him. "I should not trust you, after this." I told the monk, and continued, "Who is to say you will not help me remove this problem?" I motioned toward my body, and the monk merely shook his head. "We have already told you what you need to do. Kill Sütharl and Javed, and you will be safe. Astoh has a different task for you, but that can be done differently." The monk seemed to think it was a blessing, but I would not be able to deal with this now. My backside felt oddly heavy, and I sat down. "Black magic was outlawed thirty years ago for very obvious reasons. Necromancy is one of the worst sins a person can commit." I ranted to him, but he did not care. "And what else did you do to my backside?" I turned my head to examine. A bump stood erected at the base of my back. It was disgusting, and covered under my robe. I reached back and poked it. The worst part was how I felt myself being poked. The bump seemed to be able to wiggle a little, and then I realized it; it was going to become a tail. "I see you've found your new addition." The monk chuckled at his comment, and turned away to leave. "How do I slay the king and the dragon before this develops?" I asked, but the monk left the room. James hurried back in, along with Angelica. "Erunik, Javed is having the funeral for his son here, in Fairfield. His son was born here, so they saw it fit to have the last of their dynasty buried in the city. We also have information that Sütharl plans on trapping everyone inside the square and enslaving them." "Hold on," I cut Angelica off, "But how did you find things about this dragon, and when is the funeral?" I stood up, thrown off by the short bump, and managed to catch my balance. "Today." James said, "And we managed to get two men into Sütharl's lair. But that doesn't matter now, because this is our only shot. We've cut a hole in your armor for your bump." He pointed over to a nearby table, and I slowly walked over, still adjusting to my new weight. I stumbled all over, knocking stands aside in the room. I picked up the first piece, and thought for a minute before saying, "Can I have a moment of privacy?" The others, both embarrassed by my question, quickly left the room. I glanced around again. This room was too cramped, and I could not wait for my ultimate kill, Javed. Now though I may want to find something else after this, as I can only kill so many people in the world before they run out. Slipping on the black chestplate, it fit snuggly with my scales and belly streching it to a new level. I reached for the leggings, and took a step in them before pausing. My toes now seemed angled, almost like claws. They appeared a darker color than my feet, however I may have been just imagining things. It was still too blurry to see many things in the room. The leggings snapped in with the chest, and I glanced behind to look at my tail. The hole they cut was obvious, barely able to surround the bump. I reached for my gauntlets, still disturbed by the sight of a bump. I felt as if it was a wart, a nasty and massive wart I received after messing with these witches of monks. The gauntlets seemed unimportant, as I forced them to fit. The hood was replaced, upsetting me. James realized my snout, now sticking far beyond any hood he could make, would give me away in the shadows. He instead crafted a new helmet for myself. Black horns jutted out of the top, like fountains spewing out steel from the source. Empty black slots for my eyes stared back, mesmerizing me. The snout on the helmet was engraved, with nostril holes at the end. Teeth were visible on this muzzle-looking helmet, and curves to show master craftsmanship surround the design. The neck had two latches to hook to my armor. After struggling, I managed to squeeze my snout inside and wear the helmet. I left the room, now familiar with my new step style. James and Angelica waited outside for me. I smiled, and asked them, "Where is Javed?" REMINDER: POST FEEDBACK ON THE FEEDBACK THREAD!
Regeneration - Chapter Six (Fairfield's graveyard) I waited in the shadows for hours before even the earliest of visitors arrived. The day was bright, the sun shinning, only the people within the graveyard dampened the mood. It did not matter though, the king and Sütharl would be dead in a matter of hours and myself would become a human again. Astoh, or whatever these monks insisted to assume me agent of, must be disappointed by my actions. I continued to ruin his or her plan of using me as some sort of pawn. "What a pathetic excuse." I whispered to myself, thinking of these monks as they attempted to justify greed with religion. I wanted to kill them all for what they've done to me, and I would after this assignment. It was going to be the greatest kill I ever achieved: assassinating the High King of Igaf, at his son's funeral in the midst of the whole kingdom. Guards lumbered around nearby but they were lax. Twelve gold pieces tended to make them calmer than usual. I began to move away from grave, finding a tower to climb and position my bow from. The ceremony appeared to be aimed at grandeur, as the king knew he was the last man of his family to live. I now know he is a lucky man, and that death is a gift we should never attempt to play with. The monks will learn that very, very soon. I reached ladder on a side, and took the first step. It was secure, and I proceeded up. The tower reminded of the last one I climbed, though this looked safe. As I reached the top, I surveyed the area from here. The tomb and stand were maybe twenty feet away. On top of this bell tower, I would have than enough time to kill him. I would not even bother being jailed. The new king would want to release me, as now I cannot die. I grasped my bow, and placed it in the alcove next to me. The bell rung over me, twelve for high noon. The ceremony would start soon, but I would wait until Javed was in the middle of his speech for his demise. But for now, I waited. Slouching against a support, I closed my eyes for a little rest. A gong of the bell woke me up. I jolted forward, reached for my bow, and began to aim. The funeral was now filed, with everyone standing in black of the tomb. High King Javed was standing above everyone else, most likely to point his significance. "What a waste." I told myself, and aimed at Javed. His voice was faint, but I could hear him. "Now that he is gone, we must choose a new ruling family to watch over and protect Hathkar and her allies." This would be perfect. Ruin the monks plan of knowing the successor, as well as return to normal. Javed continued, "Our Prince wanted what was best for the kingdom." I aimed at his skull, toward his spine. "I am pleased to announce," my fingers began to lose grip, "Our new ruling family is-" The arrow shredded through his head, blood spewing out. Javed crumpled to the ground, not feeling the arrow that killed him. His lips managed a whisper, but pandemonium swept the graveyard. I had maybe thirty seconds before the guards I paid would be swarming the tower, and wanting more gold or else I would be turned in. "Pitiful, however I am the new king." A male's voice could be barely recognized, and all the watchers turned toward Javed's stand. On top stood an old man, in worn out robes. At first I thought it was a joke, but this man became larger and blacker with every second. His skin seemed to be scalier, and spikes appeared on his back. This must be Sütharl, the slaver dragon everyone was so afraid to encounter. I pulled another arrow, confident I could kill him like that other dragon. I just needed to find the spot on his side, and I would be able to return to normal. His tattered robes fell to the ground as Sütharl grew even larger. I saw guards begin to swarm him, however was too mighty. Sütharl somehow knew exactly where I was at,and charged toward me. I released my arrow, however my aim fell short. The dragon covered the yards as if it was nothing to his routine. The dragon, flashing his claws, attacked the tower head on. Bricks flew as he covered the bell, ripping it from the stone. I jumped and pulled another arrow, but Sütharl kicked me onto my side. I landed against a tree, feeling a snap and unable to move. My arrow pinned my side to the tree, and pierced my armor. The dragon turned, and began to dash to me. "Why me?" I shouted, pulling the arrow out. "Why attack one lone archer?" "You've really been played a fool, Erunik." Sütharl's voice boomed, and he tossed me aside. I was unable to stand, my body stressed well beyond any normal limits. Sütharl closed in, and pulled me to stand by his claws. "Those monks are using you. They won't stop with you, they can't change you back even if the monks wanted." I managed to step back, my body already beginning to regenerate. Pulling out a small sword, I prepped. "You have someone who will be able to cure my condition." I placed my sword so it was guarding my face while Sütharl charged again. His foot struck my sword, and I stumbled back. He chuckled again, "To keep some sense of humanity? Look at yourself, you are becoming a dragon. Do you plan on finding a cure when you will find no answers? What about your assassins, can they handle having the last great master as a dragon?" I took a step, and began to rush him. My sword lunged, but he avoided my glance. "I will never be any sort of puppet for you, and I will become myself again!" I struck his foot, and Sütharl retreated it in pain. I lashed out again, cutting into his body on his underbelly. Blood ran out as I continued my attack. "Erunik, they want to bring dragons back! They will find another woman, and somehow control you. The Astoh is only a guise for their means, they are all insane." Sütharl blocked my hit, pushing me back, and reached to grab my sword. I rolled out of the way, but his tail whacked me. I was thrown against a tree, hearing another snap. "What... Do... You mean?" I gasped between words, barely finding my breath. "Look at me. I am the first dragon in over a thousand years, just mysteriously appeared. Isn't that suspicious? And these monks did not exist until about five years ago." Sütharl picked me up again, however he flew up into the sky with me hanging by my feet. "I am truly sorry," I told the dragon, fumbling to reach for a dagger. I concealed it in my right hand, feeling the edges, "But I cannot nor will not take that chance." I flung the knife, managing to pull up and grasp his feet with my hands. The dagger, expertly placed, wedged exactly in the same location as the last dragon. I reached higher, not having any time look at the wound. Sütharl shrieked, and flapped violently as he dropped. I pulled up further, feeling his rough scales against my claws. Mine appeared to be enlarging as I felt a massive pai in my stomach. We plummeted in the air, free falling while Sütharl slowly died and I hung to his neck for my life. I felt larger, and heard more snapping on my armor. It felt tight, and pieces flew off into the air as the ground closed in. We hit the ground, and rolled for yards. I slipped off, and tumbled less than the limp dragon body. My chest plate burst open, revealed my newly enlarged underbelly. I felt my gauntlets snap as my arms transformed into legs. Scales replaced my skin and nerves disappeared. I could no longer feel my armor except with my claws, but now all of It was broken and discarded. My body swelled as I watched in horror. The ground slowly became farther away, and I felt snapping in my head. My snout extended further, and the teeth sharpened. The helmet fell before me, and I blinked. I was now a dragon, and the monks lied. I slowly stood, attempting to balance myself. I walked over to Sütharl, and heard his faint whisper. "That was the wrong choice." All five monks approached me, and I trend to see them, infuriated. One stepped forward, and he was much more short than when I first met them. "Erunik, we have good news. We have found the man, and he remembers you are able to become a human again." "What are the requirments?" I asked, not knowing if it was trickery. "You are allowed thirty days as a beast, and then thirty as a human. But, we will return you fully if you-" I stuck out my mouth, and snapped at him. "You attempt to make me breed? Force everyone I know to participating in your scheme? I have one response for you." I pounced on the first monk, but the rest clustered together. I was angry, being hoodwinked this whole time. I ripped the monk apart, and a buildup happened inside me. I let loose, and fire spewed from my mouth. I scorched those monks, watching the bones char. They did not scream, but merely stood there being killed. The monks dropped, and I halted my new ability. The man I stood on top of laughed, and I released my grasp for a moment. "Erunik... You forget... We plan ahead... And now... You will be punished..." I paused, thinking for a moment before saying, "How? I have achieved all I wanted." "You cannot die... You are now going to be hunted by the king.... Javed will torture you indefinitely. Have fun in hell." The monk dropped, but I ignored him. My time had only just begun, and this was how I began years ago for the assassins. Weakened, alone, poor, and infamous. Javed would never see me coming this time.
Regeneration - Ending (Hathkar, inside the village) "James." Javed stood before him, the wind blowing his face. Javed moved to the next station, the rope hanging from the top as the criminals stood to be hanged. "Angelica." Javed addressed her, she being bound in rope while standing in line next to James. Javed moved again, going to the lever off to the side. The crowd roared with pleasure, obviously wanting the hangings. Javed began his speech, "These two that stand before today are members of an elite organization found inside our walls. The Assassin's Guild." Many booed at the word assassin, throwing tomatoes upon the two. They stuck their hands in the hair, completing obscene gestures at them. "They are accused of high treason, the only sin in which our city finds death the only solution. What say you in your defense?" James looked up, and smiled, saying, "It was fun." The crowd gasped, and booed him out. Angelica stood silent, her face grim. Javed grasped the lever , and said his final words to the two. "With my power as High King, I sentence you both-" The arrow nailed his adam's apple, and Javed stumbled backwards. He was in shock, finding the crowd was actually storming the castle, and helping James and Angelica down. Javed looked up to see his killer holding his head up. "Be peaceful and accept this gift." The words were said, and Javed passed. Looking up, the killer smiled at the two assassins. "So," he said, "Where is the beer?" ----------~Squiggle~--------- Thank you all for reading my story! I decided that the ending should be nice, and tie up loose ends. The kingdom is safe... For now. Muhahahaha! In all reality, I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy or have enjoyed every last post on this page. Including the one random comment ._. You may now officially post on this page. Keep writing!