Brave new world
#3 of Tale's of the wanderer's
Chapter II, Brave New World
It was an amazing site to see. Amid the sky whirled a luminous miasma of swirling indigo & violet lights. It almost seemed to be an inverted tornado aiming towards the vast endless void of space.
For a brief moment he was completely unaware of the steering wheel being jerked from his hands, the Aviat-A1-B began to slowly turn up.
"FUCK! FUCK!! FUCK!!!" Marcus screamed as the plane lost control. He gripped the wheel with all of his strength in a vain attempt to regain control.
"SHIIIIIIT!"
The plane began turn on its end and spin. The young pilot could only watch helplessly as his plane spun into the well of gravity. The stars seemed to become hoops and lights flashed. The last thing he saw before his head was knocked hard against the roof was the lights cease...
- + + +
Imej walked along the trail slowly. His father had told him not to walk alone out of fear of bandits or slavers, but being young and callow he had ignored his fathers warning. But his interest today was more then disappearing during chores, the prior night he had witnessed as he laid on his mat through the window an object crash from the heavens.
The little boy had few friends and often wandered the hill about his village. He loved to fantasize about exploring the perfumed jungles of Kled, or to see the northern lights of the White Sea.
He continued along the seldom-used track he could see wisps of smoke rise from a crevice in the sandstone canyon. His father would have told him to let one of the town warriors investigate it, but this was simply too tantalizing to pass up.
He climbed along piles of rock, it was on one such pile he had discovered something to whet his curiosity; a small necklace of odd beads, but what made it fascinating was the tiny statuettes of a odd creature stretched out upon a cross, he knew it was a cross because he had seen a few bandits crucified upon the road to BlackHook. He began scanning the ground for more such trinkets. While he climbed the pile of dirt a few stones fell down over the side.
- + + +
"Oh god... my... my arm..." Marcus groaned he clutched his right arm, he felt the jagged split in the bone. His flesh felt like it had been dipped in molten steel. His eyes opened slowly, his vision was stained red.
From the little he could see he could only assumed he was in the ruins of the cockpit. He grabbed at the door handle "Ahhhh!" tiny cubes of broken glass littered the floor and just about any other open space.
All he could do was lay there in pain. He ground his teeth in an attempt to dull the pain.
Tumble!
Tumble!
Tumble!
Marcus's eyes shot open "HEEELP!"
- + + +
Imej froze he could have sworn he had heard some animal shriek.
"HEEELP!!"
The little wolf pup could not think of what ever it could be. Against all other common sense he summed up the courage to investigate the noise.
(At the same time)
Marcus had managed to heave himself from the cockpit. It took him a few moments to pull himself to his feet, the pain in his joints was great particularly his arm. The rocks in front appeared blurrier then before, his vision was failing fast.
With each step he gasped slightly. It was not long before his strength failed him and he had to lean against the wall of rock. He clutched his arm pain flared up in it. It was beginning to swell. With grim acceptance he knew what he had to do, he griped the fractured part of the bone...
(Meanwhile)
"AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGG!!"
Imej stoped in his tracks, he was now certain he had heard the roar of a wounded predator. It sounded as though it was near him but he did not know of which direction, he began to slowly back away. He stopped in his tracks; long blooded fingers wrapped around his shoulder. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, his head slowly turned.
A monstrous creature covered in blood held him tightly...
- + + +
Erh the farmer patted his son's head gently; the boy's head was buried deeply into his leg tears flowing like a river. He now tried to calm him to tell him what had happened. At first when his son came bolting down from the hillside he had thought him only playing one of his games, but when he saw the terror in his face he rushed to him.
The little wolf had latched onto his leg immediately and balled, his father was convinced another boy had given him a thrashing, but when his eyes caught the crimson blood upon his shoulder he had become far more concerned.
The blood was to odd, thicker then any he had seen from livestock or fights. And it was darker then any he had seen in the war. The blood was on his son but not from him, he immediately sent his older brother down the road to fetch the town guards.
Soon his son had stopped sniffling and managed to choke out a barely coherent story of a monster with neither fur nor scales covered in blood. Normally he would have laughed at the idea of a monster of such description until his son produced an odd statuette, "There! There! On the cross it looked like the monster. He stopped his skepticism; the metal was shiny, like silver but looked like a mirror.
"I Came as fast as possible!" panted a jackal as he rushed into the hovel, the jackal had taken concern to the blood but when the story was told he laughed and was about to leave, until the farmer produced a small trinket.
About five solders searched the hillside, they had found what the cub produced, a large metal hut, and a pool of dark blood that led off into a trail. Eventually the trail stopped, but no creature had been found.
All of the villagers had been shocked by what the solders told them, and all the cubs had been told to stay away from the west hills, the local priest had determined the creature to be a daemon. Weeks passed and adventurers had searched for the creature but only found the metal hut, soon that became a mark of unholy ground, years passed and the daemon of the hills had become a well told local legend, parents of small cub told them that if they were bad I would eat them.
It became a mark of courage to touch the metal hut; soon many tales had been created about the daemon of the hills. By the time little Imej had reached adulthood, the tale had been seared into the mythology of the region, and in a way the daemon had reached immortality in the legends of the village.
Little Imej had grown large and strong like his father, and after training with an axe had set out to live his dreams, but that is a story for another time...
- + + +
Marcus wandered in a numb state along the canyon, the child had ran in fear, and Marcus had wandered away to find help. For hours he wandered, eventually his bleeding stopped but his body was numb and weak. After dusk fell he did as well, everything went dark...
Ayden was puzzled when he had came across the creature he wanted to run, but when a few weak word fell from his mouth, he listened. It sounded like an archaic version of his language.
He had found a dry cave and made camp, with some of the supplies he stole from the croc he had stabilized the creature. This was going to be interesting...
End Chapter II
Tales of the Wanderers