Fable - Ask A Meeting in Chaos

[Mordecai Akadia]

Screaming and war cries.

The forested valley echoed with sounds of combat, screaming and death, roars of monsters and men locked in mortal combat, man and monster fought for their lives in bloody combat. Commanders shouted orders, tactics were tried, foiled, failed or successful. The tides of the battle surged back and forth and blood soaked the earth, trees splattered red and carnage reigned. Gore and corpses filled the landscape yet still the armies charged each other mercilessly, fighting tooth and nail till sword bent, arrows were spent and armor was rent.

Mordecai scanned the slaughter from behind the battle lines atop his massive armored charger. The horse itself was massive, especially bred for men of his stature. He wore iron plate armor that covered him from head to toe and hid his face thoroughly behind the concealing visor.
His eyes peered from behind the slots, scanning the battlefield and searching for a specific enemy, one that he knew knew very well would not be able to resist charging into the bloody fray.
He quietly seethed as he looked about for his enemy... A man that was a god on the battlefield, a man who could have sent any other army running for the hills had this army not been led by Mordecai, former hero of the Empire.
His enemy, a man trained in a monastery hidden deep within the Spine mountains, a man who could focus his very soul into his strikes and imbue his body with immense power... A former friend and one of his loyal companions when they brought the empire from the brink of destruction together.

"Jarxes... Where are you... You backstabbing bastard..." He growled metallically behind his helmet, "Show yourself and we shall have our reckoning..."
His iron gauntlets clenched and released the reigns as he futilely attempted to calm his mounting rage and growing impatience. He knew that even though his former comrade would have enjoyed nothing more than to lead every assault into battle it was different when he knew that Mordecai led this army, he was likely saving himself and waiting for Mordecai to take the field just as Mordecai had been doing.

Unfortunately, the monk had more patience than the newly crowned King of Ardundale.
With a grunt of frustration he drew his greatsword and spurred his charger forward, ignoring the cautions of his retainers as he kicked his horse into a full gallop. If Jarxes would not take the battlefield himself, Mordecai would lure him out.
The pounding of hooves against the ground thundered in his ears. He raised his greatsword as he took the lead of the next cavalry charge and drove his horse forward with a fierce battle roar that rose above the clamor of the battlefield.

"DIANNA!!!" Was his battle cry as he broke through the shield wall of his enemy, imperial soldiers fell away and tried to escape both hoof and blade as he brought the massive sword to bear against them, rising and falling in great sweeps and cleaves as he waded into the sea of enemies. His cavalry followed him through the breach and sounds of combat rose once again to drown out any form of sense or organization. Riders pulled from their steeds, horses screamed as they impaled themselves on spears, the crushing sound as hooves broke armor and bone, blades bit flesh and tore armor.
Mordecai fought like a demon, the only sounds that came from his throat were animalistic roars of rage, he saw only red as enemies fell before him.

The armor of his horse deflected a poorly aimed spear which drew his attention immediately. A daring soldier that suddenly lost his nerve when he noticed the trail of bodies that followed this armored madman. He tried to run. Mordecai jumped from his horse and in a few strides caught up and cleaved the soldiers head off.
Now on foot he need not focus on his mount. He let out another deafening roar of rage as he dove headlong into the ranks of soldiers surrounding him. His retainers worked hard but it would be some time before they could catch up. Mordecai didn't care, he smashed through his enemies no matter how many stood before him, every cut that made it past his armor only fueled his anger and made him strike that much harder and faster.

Tamed monsters also bolstered the imperial ranks, and one such beast now challenged Mordecai. A massive creature of teeth and claws tore through cavalry soldiers to reach Mordecai, screaming its challenge as it thundered forward in an attempt to swallow the armored man in a single bite.
Mordecai caught the upper maw of the beast with his sword hand, using the cross-guard to catch a huge fang, placed his boot on the lower jaw to keep it open, he then reached inside and grabbed hold of the beast tongue.
With a roar of effort he pulled savagely, ripping the creatures tongue out of its head, effectively killing the beast.

"Mordecai! Come to your senses you fool!" A voice nearby, separated by a river of enemies but it was loud enough to reach his ears and cut through the white rage that clouded his mind.
He looked up to see... "JARXES!!! I'LL DESTROY YOU AND EVERYTHING YOU EVER LOVED!" Mordecai's scream was more akin to a beastial roar, his sheer rage and passion struck fear into the hearts of the poor soldiers around him and caused them to fall away, trying to escape this veritable juggernaut.
With a sweep of his sword another swath of soldiers fell dead, the strength of his blows tore heedlessly through armor and bone.
"You're so insane by this point you don't even care that you killed Malakai, your own BROTHER over this pointlessness!" Jarxes approached empty-handed, only the armored gauntlets he wore served as his weapons.
The armies gave them space, not wanting to get caught in the middle of a duel between two commanders with powers such as theirs.

Adele Miette

 

[Adele Miette]

Ah, she loved humanity.

Their twisted senses of right and wrong. Following this god and that god, this cause and that. Their utter capacity for cruelty, malice, and rage was a potent siren's call, and she delighted in its' ravagery. The utter totality of savagery was something that still slaked her thirst, and after so many centuries it still beat a siren call in her sluggish dead blood.

Such brutishness would have driven many away, but she thrilled in it. The pools of blood would have fed many an immortal, but her longevity meant such measures of sustenance were rarely needed. Now she did it for the pure entertainment of it, the languid taking of life with a loved one's face was something she reveled in such a capacity that went even beyond wanton cruelty.

And so, she was present on the battlefield, caked with blood, wearing a soldier's face. But within the helm, her eyes burned an icy, unrelenting blue. She came to watch.

As the two men shouted on the battlefield, she fought her way to the fore, wanting to watch. Her chest heaved, not with anxiety, but anticipation. A wide grin pulled on her lips as she heard the yelling to and fro. The bigger man, the king... a pale pink tongue darted out, licking her lips unseen. She would be their shadow, their ravens to whomever's corpse touched stone. Sides didn't matter to her. Their lifeblood did. Their power did. And she had hungered, waiting for this inevitable fall of either side.

She poised in wait, eagerly watching while the rest of the humanity around her cowered in fear.

 

[Mordecai Akadia]

Pointlessness?
His voice lowered to a lower growl as Jarxes approached.
"'Pointlessness'... That's what you call the death of Dianna?! That's what you call it when Dianna was burned at the stake and I chose to bring to task those responsible?! POINTLESSNESS!?!?"
He was back to shouting again, raw emotion apparent in his voice as he recounted the crimes committed against himself and his family.
"POINTLESSNESS?!?! WHEN MY OWN BROTHER OVERSAW THE EXECUTION AND THEN HAD THE AUDACITY TO THINK BLOOD AND LOYALTY TO THE EMPIRE WAS THICKER THAN LOVE FOR MY WIFE!?!?"
Jarxes only smirked in reply and that was enough to send Mordecai over the edge once again.
His greatsword hit the dirt as he charged the monk unarmed, the intense desire he felt to take a life with his bare hands and feel that life slip away as he crushed it from the body was overwhelming.

He thundered across the remaining distance, his iron shod boots pounding through the blood soaked ground sending up red splashes with each explosive impact. He roared and sent a wild haymaker at Jarxes who nimbly ducked the frenzied swing.
Mordecai didn't let up, he swung again and again trying with brute strength to destroy a man that easily avoided his overly broadcasted attacks.
They were comrades once, they fought several times during their travels and knew how the other moved and how the other fought... But now Mordecai was fully intent on killing his former friend and ally, it was only a matter of time before...

*CRUNCH*

Mordecai stopped mid swing. His iron gauntlet poised over the head of Jarxes.
The monk had made a single strike, focusing his Ki into his fist and gauntlets to drive them through Mordecai's iron breastplate. Mordecai stood as if impaled on the fist, blood seeped down Jarxes's arm from the rend in Mordecai's armor.
The air was forced out of Mordecai's lungs, his arms went limp and he sagged forward. He coughed and blood splattered out from behind the grill in his visor.

Jarxes smiled as he held up the larger man on his fist... But that smile vanished when he noticed that Mordecai wasn't coming down, he could feel Mordecai's heartbeat and it hadn't calmed down in the slightest, the eyes behind the visor bore into him filled with pure hatred and rage.

Before he could draw back an iron clad hand came around and grabbed Jarxes by the arm.
"Just go down you raging psychopath!"
There was a quiver in his voice now, he could feel the massive hands squeezing down and crushing his forearms... He knew Mordecai's strength, and he was banking on not getting hit and ending the fight with one blow.
Mordecai got his feet under him and pulled Jarxes's fist from his chest, he sucked in to regain his breath.
"Was all of this really so important to you!?!"
There was desperation in his voice now, he knew it would be a simple task for Mordecai to snap the bones in his arm.
"You gave your life to the empire! You owe it everythi-"
An iron fist silenced his words, and as he screamed he felt the bones in his arm snap like twigs in Mordecai's grip.
Mordecai released him but only for the brief moment it took to drive another fist into the monk's sternum. Mordecai screamed his rage as he struck again and again, bones snapped and shattered with every blow, blood flew with the impact of each blow.
Finally Jarxes stood, barely alive, a purple mass made up his face.
Mordecai picked him up by the shoulders, and in one quick motion pulled him in half vertically. Blood sprayed over the iron armor and Mordecai lifted his face to the sky and let out another beastial scream that echoed across the battlefield.

He dropped the two halves of the man and turned around to find his greatsword... But upon seeing the death of their leader a retreat was sounded and the imperial troops began to flee the battlefield.

 

[Adele Miette]

They fled, how disappointing.

He also left his sword on the ground; did all men lose their senses when it came to this raw power? She could understand it, to some degrees; there had been a time she had felt the deep despair of helplessness, grief and turned it into fury, but it was so long ago it was not her own memory. The moment the humans began to flee, did her illusion shift and change in the charged fray.

The armor melted into a tall form. Pale skin, paler than the moon, stretched taut over slender bones. Hair as black as pitch flowed over what seemed like delicate shoulders; eyes the deep, fathomless black-blue of deep ocean waters glinted. She knelt to his sword and lifted it.

It rose easily in her hand; she merely stood nonchalantly. The dress she wore was spattered with gore and blood; it had, perhaps at one point, been a pale grey. Long, pointed ears twitched once, listening to the screaming around her, the despair taken in deep draughts as she glutted herself on their fear. None would notice her at this point unless she wanted them to see her. It was effortless as breathing. A perk for her years of service, and her years of practice. Mortals were so fragile.

He would be permitted to see her, however. And at how effortlessly she held his sword; such strength would no doubt cost her later, but for now, she would bide her time. He would either leave without his weapon and without witnessing her, so intent in his fury, or he would see her. Either way promised to be...

Interesting.

 

[Mordecai Akadia]

He spotted his sword... the massive blade was not on the ground but in the hands of a woman who effortlessly held it aloft, her appearance was almost surreal on the battlefield, she was like a visage of death... Fatally beautiful.
He didn't know her or recognize her... And he knew all of his enemies... Could they have hired an assassin to bring him down? If so she was certainly bold, now isolated from any aid and choosing to make herself known in the midst of a battle.
He stepped towards her, his tension obvious in the way he moved across the bloody ground, his fists clenching and unclenching, his posture hunched, his eyes watched her from behind his visor like feral wolf, wary yet curious.

He stepped directly to her, his height and bulk imposing a massive presence before her, apparently unafraid or otherwise didn't care if she were an enemy or not... A man with nothing to lose and everything to gain from death.
He stared down at her, while she wasn't a short woman he was a very tall man.
"If you think you can kill me, best make the first strike count."
His voice was low and gravely aside from the metallic echo attributed from his helmet. Blood seeped from many tiny cuts all over his body where his armor didn't cover him and the hole in his breastplate revealed a now bare and bloodied sternum, bruised and slightly burned from energy of the punch and cut by the edges of the hole... But otherwise he seemed unscathed and more than ready to continue the battle, he practically shivered with tension and unquenched anger, anticipating either his death or another chance to release the rage still growing within him.

 

[Adele Miette]

Watching him, barely constrained, was intriguing. He had merely ripped a man apart as though he were paper mere moments ago. She had to admit... that was somewhat sexy. He was the perfect instrument, a tool for her future ambitions. A rough diamond, just as capable to cut her to pieces as he was to polish in her hands. This was the best way to get his attention. To others, however, he seemed to talk and look at the air. Strange... perhaps he was losing his mind?

However... His words brought a smile to full lips. Kill him? As amusing a prospect as that was, she was not up for that ambition yet. No, he had many years ahead, even with his age. His rage would sustain him far longer than any spell, and most magics would. She gave a one-shouldered shrug, eyeing him slowly.

"Kill you? How droll. But... you're welcome to take it from me if you dare." Those eyes glinted with a challenge towards the towering helm, taking three steps back swift and smoothly. "I'm not here for your death, King. If you can take your sword back... I might be of use to you."

She stood quietly, waiting. The tattoed seals hummed, the magic runes waiting, cut deep into her flesh beneath her dress, waiting for his next move to become active, all the while seeming to stand passively, the smile gone with the cold mask in place once more. It was a deadly game she played, but they were a pair evenly matched.

 

[Mordecai Akadia]

"I'm not here for your death, King. If you can take your sword back... I might be of use to you."

That sword had a history, he had carried it throughout his adventures and it's been repaired and re-forged several times over the course of its life. While not enchanted it was enhanced with superior metals that made it virtually unbreakable and it holds its edge far better than any other blade. It was about the same size as the woman who now held it with ease, the blade that could deliver the force of an explosion without breaking.

Mordecai growled as the beautiful stranger created distance. While that sword was a reminder of the role he played for the empire and he would have thrown it out... Dianna had cared for that sword... He could still hear her lighthearted reprimand as she sharpened that sword, "You shouldn't use a sword to cleave helms and shields, Mordecai! See!? You've chipped the blade again!"

To see that weapon withheld from his hand so casually, as if it were a game... Made him see red...

Red flew... Blood mixed with dirt exploded outwards as he charged the woman with a surprising burst of speed and force that sent him forward like a bullet. He didn't have the sense to grab for the sword, he simply drew back and sent his metal fist straight at the chest of the offensive creature.

His retainers returned from their respective combats but now looked on with awe and confusion as he seemed to attack an imaginary enemy... While questions formed in their minds none of them dared voice them when they could see the rage depriving their lord of all sense or sanity.

 

[Adele Miette]

Ah, he didn't reply. She was disappointed. But then again, he seemed like someone wont to explode, quite literally, in rage. After all, had she not seen it earlier? Though, she didn't quite feel up to being split in two; it would be painful, and difficult to recover from.

Still, when he charged, her eyes once again glowed. At first, a cold, cold blue, with a ring of feral gold, her own movement light, swift as she took a leap back from where she was previous, allowing him to swing at air.

"An old god looks at you, and you answer with a fist. How typical of humans."

She once again hefted the sword, staring him down now with a cold face, those eyes burning a bright, conflicting duo of colors.

She could keep this dance for a while, but if it continued in this pattern, she would become bored. And being bored was a dangerous game.

 

[Mordecai Akadia]

She avoided the attack, he was facing another opponent light on their feet, but her movements seemed unnatural... Not that he currently possessed the presence of mind to contemplate such things. But still, a small part of his subconscious admired her daring, to challenge him like she did and not back down.

Missing his first attack he followed through, he kept his feet moving to her new position and sent another strike her way, keeping up his momentum and remaining up close with his agile opponent. Like Jarxes she seemed to be able to read his movements and react on a dime no matter how quickly he struck.
But still, after missing that first attack he began to realize that he underestimated her abilities, his rage was still present but lesser than before.

"An old god looks at you, and you answer with a fist. How typical of humans."

"The gods are callous beings deserving of death! I am honored to be its herald! NOW RETURN THAT WEAPON!!!"
He kept moving towards her, trying to not give her an opportunity to stop moving and make another plan, he was exceptionally fast, his heavy plate armor didn't seem to encumber his movements in the slightest. He kept his fists flying through the air to keep her on the weave, unless this was childs play for her it would be difficult to formulate a strategy on the fly under such pressure.

The retainers heard Mordecai when he mentioned "gods", from that they deduced that he likely hadn't gone insane, perhaps trapped by an illusion spell or perhaps he was locked in combat with an invisible god!
They knew the stories of their king when he served the empire, and battling dark gods was not outside of the realms of belief.