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| The Beginning; The Story of Ares | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Oct 20 2012, 08:40 PM (112 Views) | |
| Ares | Oct 20 2012, 08:40 PM Post #1 |
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Thirty Kilometers from The Lap - 5 years after the Great Revolt of the First Age The army of the Wyld Hunt was sprawled around the base of the mesa, their small campfires like a sea of stars on the ground as night fell, and the great Manse at the top of the plateau, their goal, shined like a dim sun overhead, casting an almost pre-dawn glow down the steep incline of the high mountain. General Zio, a Dragon blood of Fire, had ordered the camp erected at dusk, and now runners were coming to tell him all was in preparation. He reached for his horned helm and secured the strap, his aged features set in grim determination, tongues of flame already dancing along the seams and joints of his armor as he tried to burn away the anxiety and tumultuous emotions. He glanced over at the other five Dragon Bloods on this mission, each a General in their own right. Sha, of the North, Dragon blood of Air, renown for her use of bow and staff, as well as her fine healing art, Ric, of the East, Dragon blood of Wood, sturdy and steadfast and his greatest ally in this three year hunt. Markuth, of the West, Dragon blood of Water, fluid and graceful for all his large size and gentle nature. Hesta and Jaden, twins of the capital Celestial City, Dragon bloods of Earth, and inseparable through countless battles, they would be his finest legacy. Each had pledged themselves to the Hunt, to finding and eradicating the crazed gods, the Solar Exalts, who had once been their Lords. Their mission was nearly complete, this night would see their crusade ended, one way or another. "You all know what you need do ... this must be flawless." Zio stated, securing his armor once more even though he could feel every piece of it attuned to his furnace like essence. They all nodded, as he knew they would, and they all set out for the path leading up the mountain in the dark. They left their armies behind, giving the illusion they would lay in wait for the dawn to strike the Exalt they'd managed to chase all the way back to this fortress home. It was a mission they all knew, the slightest misstep would cause not only all their deaths, but the deaths of all the people they were leaving down in the valley without leaders. Midnight came, and the dim hearth fire glow of the golden citadel atop the mountain came into view to the group of seasoned warriors. Each had their own tasks, predetermined, and it would take all of them, representing each of the Great Feudal Houses, to achieve it. Just to set his own mind at ease, General Zio once more turned to them, speaking in the complicated hand signs of their trade to insure complete silence. "He retreated here because he can draw on the Essence of the Manse, tied to the mountain, and the Ley lines it marks. He has held this place against all comers, because while tied to it, his power is limitless... Markuth, that is your task. The Hearthstone must be destroyed. Sha, Ric, you are with me, we go to the front, Hesta and Jaden, you must separate, come in from the sides, I know it will not be easy for you, but we must get the upper hand early on, or we are all broken. Markuth, you will join us in the main hall, enter from above and behind, insure he cannot escape again. This ends tonight... he dies... or we do ... " All of them nodded once, and gave each other meaningful silent glances. If aught went amiss, this would be the last they would see of one another alive. They exchanged hand grips and brief embraces, the twins teary eyed, but determined as the rest, as they all went their directions. Zio, Ric and Sha crept to the front double doors, which stood open and untended, the Manse for all it's godly splendor, was abandoned of servants and staff, the madness of it's Master having killed them all, or had them flee years previous. For that at least the General was grateful, enough innocent lives had been lost already by the Mad Exalt's reign and subsequent retreat. Zio drew the two handed curved single blade he favored and had trained his whole life to wield, Ric drew his twin axes, honed of precious Ironwood cores, more sturdy than steel, and twice as sharp, giving each a heft and twirl in his deft hands. Sha readied her bow, a complicated array of string, wood, steel and wheels he would never understand, but knew she could dispatch a dozen men in a single shot should the need arise. Thus prepared, the trio of Dragon bloods entered the front foyer of the Manse. All was quiet, hollow, but not empty. The massive form of their intended target stood in the center of the large hall just beyond the foyer, outfit in what looked like easily several tons of glowing gold embossed armor, but moved as if it was cloth. Zio knew this was not true armor, but the fabled Anima, the Exalt's very essence made manifest to protect him, more sure than any metal, and weighed nothing. Leaning against a circular base of a fountain in the center of the great hall were four grand daiclaves, blades of immense power, their six foot lengths were wide as a man, some coming to flat end points like the curve of an axe, some serrated, one wickedly hooked and curved, like a fisherman's gutting knife, and all made of the precious and powerful Orichalcum, their gold surfaces encrusted with glyphs of power and glowing with the Exalt's essence. As the trio entered the hall, the Dawn Caste Exalt Ares turned to face them, his head covered as the rest of him in the Anima armor, only his mad eyes, glowing gold and silver, were visible as he regarded them, and when he spoke, Zio could almost see the sadistic smile behind the face plate. "So ... it comes to this, Zio? Your father would be so proud, facing your death like a man, a warrior, a true Dragon Blood's final moments. Victory or Death, eh old man?" As he laughed his mad booming laugh, Zio could feel his blood burn, his grip tightened on his sword enough for the gloves to creek, and his body flickered with tongues of fire as he called upon his own power, fueled by rage, frustration, and passion. At his side, he could hear the creak of wood as Ric's body took on the appearance of deep rich red bark, branches growing from the segments of his chain hauberk, weaving together with rustling of leaves like a lover' embrace, while Sha made for a ledge of a balcony and stairs with the grace of a gazelle, flickering in and out of sight like so much smoke and mirrors trailing a faint plume of mist. "Come have your deaths served to you on gold of the Gods then!" roared the mad Exalt, and he reached for the serrated axe like weapon, hefting it in the one right hand as if it weighed no more than Zio's own sword, and the General of Flame charged with a battle cry worthy of his Terrestrial Dragon ancestors. He didn't even see the blow that landed, sending him flying back so hard he cracked the gold wall beside the stairs, a moment later Ric tumbled from somewhere above him landing in a heap in the center of the fountain, and he was still shaking his head to try and clear the ringing from it when Sha's scream of pure and unfettered agony split the hall and ended abruptly with a wet tearing sound, and her leg, torn off at the hip, landed beside him with a dull splatter. Zio rose his head as he pushed to his feet feeling burning agony in his back and right shoulder, his arm hanging responding at his side, and looked through the blur of his vision for his target. Ares stood near the fountain, drinking the blood that flowed slow and sluggish like syrup from the stump that was Sha's neck, palming her skull like some chalice, the rictus of her expression locked forever in agony and fear, the muscles of her jaw and tongue still trying to work in fish like gaping motions. Ares was secure in his supremacy, and why shouldn't he be? He had the power of the Unconquered Sun flowing through him, Exalted, Ascended, and Zio wept inside at the cost it had taken to insure that he felt this way. As if on cue, the glistening glowing armor around Ares faded, and he tossed the torn head of his dear friend aside to land and roll out the front doors, and turned to look at him, his black tunic encrusted with gold and gems enough to feed several hundred villages, and sneered at him. "Three men, Zio? Really? You insult me ... you leave your grand Hunt vulnerable to my Wrath, and when I'm done with you ... worry not old man... you will not be alone in the abyss ... I will send each and every one of them to join you..." Zio gritted his teeth through the pain, and jerked his right arm back into socket by main force, the nearly numb hand gripping his sword hilt through sheer will, and stood his ground, not rising to the obvious bait. He had to give Markuth more time, and hope to the Gods that the twins would hold until he had done his duty. He just hoped he could live long enough to insure the destruction of the Hearthstone that would give the others their chance to end this. Hoping for time, instead of a mad charge he responded with words. "Three was all I thought I'd need, you crazy bastard. I figured you'd be sound asleep by now, tucked in your bed of broken innocents and covered in the sheet you made of skinned infants..." weak, he knew, but it didn't take much these days when addressing his madness inflated ego. All the Exalted, the Dawn more than most, rose to ego barbs as easily as schoolyard children. Ares was no exception, and it took everything Zio had to fend off the sudden bare handed assault the demi-god unleashed on him, backing him up the stairs with blow after blow, each parry and counter felt like he was being hammered by the very bones of the earth, twice he nearly fell, rolling at the last moment to avoid a stomping and regain his footing. If the Exalt had been in his right mind, he'd have drawn a weapon, or seen the form of Ric pulling himself out of the fountain, and rushing up the stair behind him to aid his comrade. Ares didn't miss a beat as he almost casually backhanded the Flame General through the double door leading to the dining hall with a shattering of wood and scattering of toppled furniture. He was on him before he could regain his feet, lifting him by thee scruff like a drowned kitten, and tossing him into the fireplace with a crash of marble and gold and soot. Thankfully, the fire was lit, and the heat and flames danced around him like long lost friends, and he took deep cleansing breaths, the tongues of flame searing his lungs with strength and rejuvenation as he stepped out of the hearth to face his enemy once more. He saw Ric, backed into a corner, parrying blows with one axe, the other lay discarded or taken from him several feet away, Ares still in a blind rage was only using his bare hands, which were nicked and bloodied but nothing so serious to be fatal. With more speed than his old body had used in decades, he charged the mad Exalt's exposed back, and sank his sword hilt deep through the back of his thigh and out the front, just missing Ric, who rolled out of the corner toward his fallen weapon with the grace of a cat, returning to try and lodge both of them in Ares' shoulders with a massive bellow and overhead strike with both hands. Despite the wound in his leg, Ares caught both axes on the down swing, and with what looked like an effortless, almost offhand gesture, tossed the Earth Dragon blood across the room along with his axes. Zio ran to his friend as Ares pulled his own sword from his thigh, regarding it with an expression like curiosity, as if trying to figure out how it got stuck in him, and he stumbled a little, like a drunk, leaning against the wall with his other hand. Ric, regaining his feet with a huffing grunt, and jerked his chin toward the Dawn Caste, baring bloody teeth and speaking with a pained grimace "Markuth .. " Zio shifted his attention again, back to their enemy, and saw with a fierce smile of his own, the Water Dragon blooded general enter the dining hall, and toss a shattered opalescent orb at Ares' feet. "Your hold on this place is broken, Fallen One..." the deep baritone of Markuth spoke out, and as one, both sides of the grand banquet hall exploded inward, showering the Exalt with table sized stones and girders, as the twins entered the room, both wielding great war hammers, their faces set in fierce grim expressions, and the five remaining Dragon Bloods surrounded Ares as he pulled himself from the debris with a cough of dust. Blood ran from his brow, and ear, and his insane eyes looked unconfused. Zio knew he was reeling in the sudden vaccume of the loss of power from his Manse, and now was the only time he would ever be vulnerable again. As one, the Dragon blooded raised their weapons, and with a death rattle of exhaled air, the great Dawn Caste Exalt Ares died in a shower of blood, and broken bone.... |
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8:23 AM Jul 11