The Guard is Found, and...
The Never Ending Quest - Episode 64238
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Midnight. Most people in Camelyn were safely inside, save for the beggars in the streets,
criminals planning foul deeds, and drunkards staggering around who would soon be victims of
such foul deeds. The gaudily-dressed merchant carrying a heavy sack who lurched through the
inner city of Camelyn seemed to be one of these last. But his eyes were sharp and aware and he
knew very well where he was and what he was looking for. And he knew that there were worse
things than criminals that came out at midnight, things that walked in the shape of men but were
not men. It was just such a thing he was seeking.
It wasn't too hard to see that the thing had been here. The door to the guard post was shattered and haunted screams were coming from inside. The merchant drew himself up to his full height. Had anyone been around to see it, the difference would have been so staggering that he would have hardly seemed the same person. He kicked open the door and then drew back in disgust. The walls, the floors, everything was covered in blood. A young guard lay in the middle of a pool of blood, writhing around and screaming madly. His left hand and his right arm and leg had been sliced off and he had been blinded. "Blind... lead blind," he whimpered. "Man's ultimate enemy. Dead horse! Dead horse!" The merchant shook his head. He'd seen that look of fear and madness before. He'd seen it on the face of his own father before the thing had devoured him. "It is near," whispered the merchant. His voice was cold and determined. The guard on the floor gurgled once more and slumped into death, though he found no peace. "Don't worry," whispered the merchant. "It will pay for this. And for all the other lives it took and souls it destroyed. Though it will be little comfort to you." The merchant threw off his tacky clothes, revealing black armor that shone in the moonlight. He opened his sack took out a black helmet, and slowly and reverently put it on. It was the Tarnhelm, which would grant his soul strength against the un-thing's power. He took out a golden belt and fastened it around his waist. His belt was filled with weapons both technological and magical, acquired from the many nations he traveled to on his quest. And he took out a black sword and fastened it to his side. It was a sword forged in the fires of Ultimatropolis the Living God-City in the days before the oceans drank Atlantis, a sword which had not been drawn in centuries. For far too long he had waited to draw that sword. Tonight the day would come. Man's ultimate enemy walked the streets of Camelyn tonight, but it was not alone. For the Templar would follow it at every step.
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Knight Random
12/10/2006 11:30:13 AM
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