Author: Sivart PM
chp13inThis story is about a mercanary named Molotov Balendroe`. He is on a quest to slay the half-dragon Inflareus, but in doing so he gets into more then he can handle. So please R&R the hell out of it..please. chp10revisedRated: Fiction T - English - Fantasy/Tragedy - Chapters: 13 - Words: 19,648 - Reviews: 120 - Favs: 12 - Updated: 11-29-04 - Published: 07-08-03 - id: 1351445
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Chapter 13: The Demon Wakes
Molotov's eyes stared into a fire lost in a thousand thoughts at once, as Twan rambled carelessly about what he had just cooked.
" I call this creation a Twanwich it consists of seasoning a good piece of rabbit meat then placing it between two slices of potato and putting it into a hard roll it is good…isn't it?" the halfling finished without even needing to catch his breath.
The half-elf did have to admit the "Twanwich" was good, but he really didn't care.
"Look Molotov I know what's going through your mind is too much to handle right now, but I promise you it should all make sense soon." The wizard said giving a caring look to Molotov who only glared back.
Twan moved his vision to the pale sky and the horizon of green. As he scanned the scene he noticed that a cloud of darkness enveloped a part of the horizon.
"Hey Molotov look over there what is that?" The half-elf looked to where the halfling had nodded into the distance.
Molotov stared in awe for a moment.
" I have no idea." Molotov stated bluntly.
"Wanna check it out?" Twan asked.
Molotov nodded in agreement and ate the last piece of his "Twanwich", and put his gauntlets back on. Twan opened his book and began to chant.
Children gathered to play near the entrance of Moonstone Hills as they did most every day. Today was different though they had a strange visitor entering. It was a male covered in a charcoal smoky haze over his entire body his head was hidden in parted brown hair that went past his chin covering all his face except for his black eyes with pupils the shape of skulls. His teeth that had the distinct point of a vampire. The children looked at the man and cowered in fear.
" You there with the read hair, what is your name?" asked the smoke covered vampire.
"De…Derrick...Sir" the scarred boy choked out.
"Ahh Derrick nice to meet you my name is Marcellus, but you can call me Marce. I am here to help you." The brown haired man answered.
"Um sir do you want to talk to my parents?" Derrick asked his fright easing a bit.
"Yes that would be good" Marce answered with a sly grin that displayed his pointy teeth.
The red haired boy quickly ran to a brick house. Marcellus began to look around the town of Moonstone Hills. It was a decent sized mining community that was known for its magical gems. There were rows of brick houses that the community lived in at the end of the long row was a large building were Marcellus assumed the governor lived and around it was a brick wall where he assumed the guards barracks were. That premonition was soon proved right when out came men in white plate mail and rapiers in there right hands and tower shields in the other. Hundreds of these men approached and lined up in front of Marcellus. Out of behind the men came a distinctively feminine voice.
"What do you say sir for coming to our town." The women asked as she stepped from behind her men.
It was a fair skinned elven woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes. She was narrow like most elves but she was still well endowed in other places. She had a long brown dress with a square cut at the chest.
"Ah the beautiful lady Adamari Moonstone I presume." Marce said while in the same motion drawing a black rose from his pocket and placing it between his pointer and middle finger. Lady Adamari began to blush and answered the question.
" I am and may I ask who you are?"
" Ah as I told a child earlier in your community I am Marcellus." He said suavely.
" Why are you hear Mr. Marcel…" before she could finish the vampire put his finger up to the elfs lips to quite her.
" I've come to help you and I now shall show you how.
Marce flipped his wrist again. A skull popped out of his hand. This time the whole town had gasped in unison.
" I have come to bring rule to a distraught people, to bring peace to a restless society…and I shall do that now!" Marce said forcefully.
The empty eye sockets of the skull began to glow an eerie purple tone. After a few seconds the whole sky was the same color. A loud hiss broke the air and suddenly a huge sphere began to cover the whole town. Marcellus stood as the light dissipated and scanned the surrounding. Everybody in the circle was pale in the face and now had black hair and their eyes were glazed over. The vampire walked over to the stiff body of Lady Moonstone and kissed her on the lips.
"Well my love you'll be quite the danger when the sun falls." Marce smirked as he said this and opened a portal against a wall.
He stepped through the wall and disappeared into the dusk.
Molotov and Twan stepped through a portal into Moonstone Hills and were nearly tempted to jump right back into it. There were almost a thousand people standing completely still with looks of death masking them.
"What is going on?" Molotov asked out loud.
"I myself have no magical explanation, they seem to be petrified but they are not stone." The wizard answered.
Molotov walked around and finally saw a person he recognized…Lady Moonstone, he had seen her once in Arles but never thought it to be much. Twan studied the bodies and took notes down in a tome.
"Have you ever seen anything like this Molotov?" Twan questioned.
"No, but it reminds me of undead, Maybe we should check the tavern or someplace where survivors might be. Twan nodded in agreement and they both headed toward the Moonstone Tavern and Inn.
As they approached the entrance they heard voices. One was feminine and the other masculine. Twan looked at Molotov in suspicion then headed into the tavern. As they walked in two voices said.
"Hey you two long time no see." Twan answered.
Molotov met with the two faces that answered Twan. He had just met shadows that had now been given faces. Molotov had found himself once again at a loss for words.