well done, nick. i enjoyed it.

Fanfic paused until I can find half a minute to *bleep*ing breathe!

Sorry for how short and badly written it is, but didn't have a lot of time and I need to get back into the swing of writing, don't worry it will pick up soon.



Chapter 14


"We can't really go back to the cave, as soon as the guild regroups then they will come down on us like a tonne of bricks." Abaddon mused.

"Then we gotta find somewhere else to stay, not sure I know of any more caves that aren't infested with monsters and monster hunters. Any suggestions?" Asked Ashura.

"Yeah, I was thinking maybe we could go with the Cathulii. Think about it, there are a lot of them, you saw what they can do against the guild, we have good relations with them, it's safe, at least for a while." Abaddon said with one of his rare smiles, they seemed to Ashura to be growing frighteningly more common, and most of them weren't beaming grins of joy, nor the restrained grimace of pain, but something else entirely, Ashura was worried by it.

"It's not a half bad idea, if they will let us. There are other problems to consider too, but I guess a place to sleep where we don't risk having a knife put into our eye is more important." Ashura remarked.


And so, they went to speak to the Cathulii war party's leader, he embraced them smiling broadly, they shared drinks and they were granted permission to stay in Cathulii lands with immense happiness. Ashura and Abaddon stumbled out of the tent an hour later, reeking of alcohol.


Abaddon woke up, shivering in the courtyard of Schrade. He looked around, saw his clothes with puzzlement, his head still foggy and sore from the booze, he decided he better look down.

"Oh fu-" He said. He didn't manage to finish the curse as he was currently bent over an empty bucket, releasing the former contents of his stomach with equal amounts of disgust and relief. When he was finished he tried to focus on his cold, sweaty, dirt encrusted body, decided that his clothes looked better on his body, and acted upon those thoughts.


He took some deep breaths, and realised that the bucket was in fact Ashura's helmet.
He stood up, fell over, and passed out again.

Later, Ashura stumbled along and saw Abaddon and said: "Aww ain't the li'l pshycho-ma-path cute when he shleeps? Oh there'sh my helmet."
He put on the helmet, wiped the chunks from his eyes and decided he would follow Abaddon's lead, vomit and fall unconscious.


Later the Cathulii leader stumbled along giggling to himself, put Ashura's hand on Abaddon's ass and fell asleep in the middle of them.

its horrifyingly awkward and hilarious.

Damnit, you really love torturing your characters, don't you?

Yeah, but in a fun way!

Chapter 15

A few days later the caravan heading back to the lands of the Cathulii was filled with the sounds of the "dying" as hangovers took hold, whoever was sober or did not have the headache from hell drove a cart, the rest piled in the back and hoped to die.

Ashura and Abaddon were in the latter category, but took it with a considerable amount of grace compared to the others. Ashura had washed his hair and helmet for a start, they had both bathed and were now considering their future of living with the Cathulii. The future seemed bright, without the guild hanging over them for too long they could relax, and not kill people for a change.

What a laughable thought that turn out to be.


A few dozen armed and masked men suddenly jumped from the bushes at the side of the road and surrounded the caravan, their leader stepped forward.


"I hate to take a rather old line on this one, but stand and deliver, anything you could possibly have of value or your lives." He started to walk around the lead wagon. "I really don't care what it is, or where it's been, c'mon! Cough up ladies and gents!"


Abaddon stood up, looked at him, spat, and jumped down. He walked up to the bandit leader and said:


"What's your name?"

The reply was: "Alexander Blaze! And who are you, peasant!"

Abaddon grunted and said in a bored voice: "Interesting, will look good on your gravestone, so long as there is enough of you left to bury. And my name is Nathaniel Alexandros Wotanchilde, lovely to make your acquaintance."

He laughed and muttered. "You know Mr. Blaze, I haven't told anybody my real name in so many years, I go by Abaddon, a name meaning destruction, to represent the roaming destruction I am, surely you have heard of the events of Castle Schrade, news like that travels quickly, I am the master, no, the artist that orchestrated that beautiful symphony of destruction and death."


Alexander gulped, drew his sword and demanded that Abaddon drop his weapons.


Abaddon complied.


"I don't need anything other than my bare hands." He said. "What's more, your men have been watching this whole little exchange of ours… Perhaps they should be more observant."

The Cathulii, except for those who were blinded by their headaches, had all snatched up their bows and tomahawks and were aiming right at the bandits, who they outnumbered at least three to one.

"Very well sir Wotanchilde, there is only one way to settle this-"

"No, there are quite a few ways to settle this."

"A duel, I challenge you to a duel!"

"Are you delusional?"

"No! It is the gentlemanly way to resolve this!"

"Last I checked the only time killing was gentlemanly was when some aristocrat demands some ethnic minority to be wiped out."

"That's beside the poi-"

"No it isn't, but very well, a duel it is."


"If I win, my men shall help themselves to the caravans possessions and any sultry pleasures they deem necessary, if you win, we leave."


"Understood."



Abaddon stripped down to his waist, cracked his knuckles and neck, rolled his shoulders and braced himself.

Daniel drew a sabre, inspected it, thumped off a piece of dirt, and did a very flashy salute with it.

A selected bandit dropped the lacy handkerchief that initiated the duel.

Daniel charged, lunged at Abaddon when he drew close enough, he missed.
Daniel ate dirt as his assailant had kicked him in the shin, tripping him. He rolled before Abaddon's foot crushed his face.

He swung the sabre upwards, attempting to hamstring Abaddon, who then kicked Daniel's elbow, snapping it into a very wrong angle.


Daniel screamed, Abaddon picked him up, ignored his babbling about how unfair and cheap it was, and started laying into Daniel's stomach.

Abaddon let go, Daniel staggered to his feet, and felt cold, very cold, his stomach turned to ice and his naval gained a gilded hilt and his spine a silvery steel companion.

Abaddon hit him so hard on the nose the bone was crushed.

Daniel fell back, and breathed his last before all turned to darkness and cold.


"*bleep*ing dandy." He said.


The other bandits dropped their weapons, surrendered, were searched for weapons, loaded on to the wagons and if necessary, killed.


Nathaniel had the decency to bury Daniel, a respectable opponent, by the roadside, sword in hand.


After, he jumped on the wagon and slept, and dreamed a murderer's dreams.

Loved it, keep up the good work and ill keep reading!

Chapter 16

Abaddon and Ashura were settling into their roles in village life comfortably - they had been assigned as border guards and hunters, though little had been out of the ordinary recently.

It was the middle of winter and the Lunar feast was about to begin. Ashura was wandering around, soaking up the atmosphere and not a little of the drink.

Abaddon was keeping happy by talking to some of the more experienced warriors of the tribe and by examining their equipment, looking for ideas.

Ashura did a last perimeter check, and came back to see Abaddon utterly engrossed in conversation with one of the tribeswomen.

Ashura could see why, he had seen a portrait of Zoey a few times, and this woman looked almost exactly like her, aside from skin tone and hair.

He smiled, and decided to leave Abaddon to it, it might let him unwind, keep him sane and allow him to relax for some time, maybe even make him happy again. So Ashura went to help the cooks.

A while later, the feast was brought out to everybody, they were all sitting round a giant log fire, made of entire tree trunks laid on top of each other, and covered in kindling. The Chieftain gave his blessings, made a small speech and wished them a merry meal before tucking into his own.

After a few bloated hours, the meal was over, and people were returning to their tents when they heard a massive roar, or a chorus of dozens.


Those that recognised the sound grabbed their equipment and ran to the small cliff edge overlooking the wide valley beneath them.

Below them were dozens, maybe a hundreds of tigrex and their young, all moving East.

Abaddon was certain they were moving towards the Tower, but thankfully, they weren't batting an eyelid towards the 60-ish warriors staring down at them.


They heard more roaring, they looked onward, outwards, a few miles in the distance, were ratholos, flying in the same direction, scorching the earth as they went.


An hour or so later, the warriors went back down to the village, the War leaders were gathered.


------------------------------------------------


"What shall we do about this? One of these days one of those... herds is going to attack us, we can't hold out against that kind of ferocity. Our scouts have told s that they are indeed headed towards the Ancient Tower, and the birth pit of the Akantor. We can't ignore it. Even if the herds do not find us as they are going to the tower, sooner or later they are going to come back, likely with the young grown up and with more beside them." The Chief sounded weary, worried and just plain exasperated.


"We must attack them, hunt them down before they destroy us, or our kinsmen in other villages, it was close last time." One man from the back piped up, other murmured in agreement.

"Indeed, we must, Abaddon and Ashura have been there before, they know roughly what to expect, and what the layout of the area is, we should follow them and their lead." The Chief said.

So it was agreed, that the Cathulii from this village, and any villages they could convince in the surrounding area in the space of two days would head towards the Tower and lie in wait for Abaddon and Ashura to arrive, as they were taking a detour, Abaddon said it was important that they did this - and crucial to their victory.

----------------------------------


The next morning Ashura donned his Kushala armor, and Abaddon a composition of his Azure Ratholos and his Death Scent robes - creating a mixture of fierce intimidation and utmost strength.

Ashura shouldered his Supremacy Blade, and Abaddon a Cathulii longbow, along with two dozen arrows, and a long iron bastard sword, still stained with and smelling of blood.

They grabbed supplies, a map and some bedding, threw it onto an aptonoch cart and set off into the morning sun.

"Where are we going Abaddon, you still haven't told me." Ashura enquired.

"You always did say something must have been seriously wrong in my house for me to turn out so *bleep*ed up." Abaddon smiled. "It's time for you to find out what."

yayay i love it! write another, right now!

Hmm..
I agree with this chapter *Thumbs up*
Now that your back in the habit, try pump some more out.

Chapter 17


The cart finally rumbled to a halt at the bottom of a long, flanked by trees every ten feet or so, winding cobbled road leading up to what could only be described as a small mansion.

Abdaddon and Ashura dismounted the cart, checked their equipment, bade the two men left guarding the cart good luck and set off on foot to the house.


Abaddon looked edgy, constantly watching the shadows - it was making Ashura nervous.

"Why are you so edgy, are you expecting trouble? The place looks well kept." Ashura asked.

"That's what I'm worried about." Abaddon muttered. "The place was a hole when I left it last."

They kept walking.


They opened the door to the house to find a roaring fire in the fireplace. They searched all the rooms of the house, but found nothing, except the odd whispering sound - which creeped the shit out of Ashura.


They finally got to where Abaddon wanted to go, in the cellar, there was a large blue marble door, with no handle or lock, just an oddly shaped notch in the centre.

Abaddon stared at it for a second, before pushing the pendant he always carried with him into the notch.

The door swung open silently.


Inside there was a short tunnel, lit by lumous funghi at the end of which there was a block of the darkest obsidian. With two notches in it, one like the one on the door, and the other in a vaguely diamond shape.

Abaddon slotted the necklace into the appropriate depression on the block. It began to glow, a strange swirling mix - of reds, blues, yellows and oddly enough, black.

He drew the sword - stared at his reflection in the blade for a few moments before sliding it into it's own depression.

The block exploded.


When Abaddon and Ashura came to, above where the block used to be was a blinding light - in the light was levitating a spectre.



It was Zoey.

She was wearing a long white silk dress, but it was stained red, and had a tear in the chest.

Abaddon was brought to his knees.


"Hello again, my love."

That last bit is a tad disturbing mate...seems like hes into necrophilia or something...

Other than that, both chapters were good, a bit uneventful though.

Once again, I approve of this chapter. ._.
Creepy, very well descriptions,made me feel the dampness like they probably could. ._.