Holy shit! I'm posting my mental diarrhea. (lil pun there)





No Rest For The Wicked.

Characters.

Name: Abaddon
Age: 26
Hair: Shoulder length, Black.
Eyes: Green.
Height: 6’4”
Weight: 180lbs
Birthplace: Kokoto
Weapons: Bows and Longswords
Armours: Ratholos Soul U, Golden Moon U, Death Stench U
Profession: Hunter
Description:

Abaddon is a veteran hunter from Kokoto village who has been hunting since he was 16 in order to pay for his parents home and for his broad education, his hunting has taken him on trips all around the world of Minegrade, he has slain a huge number of monsters, he keeps a cool head, but is often reckless in a fight, and will do anything to get his prey.




Prologue.


“We shouldn’t be here Tris” said Dana, a 6 year old girl from the local village,
“Why not? It’s not dangerous at all!” said Tris, also 6 years old and from the same village as Dana, and quite clearly the less sensible one.
“The village chief said there were wyverns around here, powerful ones!”

“The village chief is a senile old biddy! Besides hunters pass here all the time, you know I want to be one when I’m older, so this is a good chance to learn.”

“I guess you’re right.” Conceded Dana. “Damn right I am!” Tris said hotly,

“Tris you swore! I’m telling mum!”

“Swore? That ain’t swearing! This is swearing! Motherfu-“

“Shh! I saw something!” Dana whispered.

Dana and Tris peaked over the little bit of ruined rock they were behind, to see two hunters strolling up the steps of the Ancient Tower with their hands on their weapons, they shuffled closer to hear what they were saying.

The hunter in Gold armour with a Tachi on his back said: “I don’t know about this man, it just doesn’t seem right, there’s nothing here, no Remobra, no Aptonoch, No Shakalaka, Hell I haven’t even seen a bird for hours.”

The other hunter, wearing red armour with an Axe and a Shield on his back replied: “I know what you mean, but the guild assured me it was just your average bog standard Gold Rathian, not even G rank. What is there to worry about eh? I mean, you are wearing about two of them, we will be ok!”

The two hunters ascended the stairs and began the long climb to the top of the Tower.
The kids shadowed the hunters, they followed them through the clouds of bugs in the first room which was flooded, and then they followed them through the place at the base of the Tower which was usually full of Giaprey, awaiting small children such as Tris and Dana to stumble by.

After a while they got to a room which was at cloud level, the only reason they could tell this was because of the massive hole in the wall. The two hunters decided to rest here before they stormed the nest. When all of a sudden there was a strange buzzing sound behind the kids, the hunters instantly unsheathed their weapons and leapt over the stone pile Dana was lying prone behind.
“Shakalaka!” Red yelled.
“No problem.” Muttered Gold as he shoved his Tachi into the things pumpkin mask. The Shakalaka lay still, twitching.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here man. What are you two doing up here?” Said Red

Dana decided to answer before Tris could open his big mouth “Jus’ playin’.” She said innocently

Gold said “It’s dangerous up here… you should leave.”

Tris took his opportunity “Ok mister hunter. We’ll go!”

Dana looked incredulous. “We will?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to disobey any authority.” Said Tris, with a glitter in his eye.

Tris ran back down the hall way dragging Dana with him. And just before he went down the path to go home he doubled back and leaned out one of the many holes in the Tower’s outer wall.

“What are you doing Tris?” enquired Dana.

“Climbing.”

“Where?”

“The nest. Let’s go!”

And so the two of them climbed up the hole and dent filled wall, until they reached the nest, and dropped down to hide behind a felled pillar. The Gold Rathian was currently lying down, as if awaiting the hunters that came for its life. The thing was huge, Gold crown level Huge.

“Look here they come!” Whispered Tris

Red and Gold ran into the Nest weapons unsheathed, the transition from relative peace to combat was seamless Gold opened up the assault by leaping forward with the Tachi aimed at the Rathian’s eye, It gave a great beat of its wings it leapt back avoiding the blade with ease, it breathed fire at Gold who had rolled to the creatures left anticipating the attack, Red swing his axe hair into the cluster of spikes on the creatures tail, shattering many in a single blow, poison spurting from the remaining shards, the Rathian swung around jaws open as it came, Gold swung at the back of the monsters leg, it hit, biting deep into the muscles, the Rathian charged forward and leapt into the air, it circled and swooped down claws almost grazing the ground. Red jumped out of the way, Gold rolled to the side and once again swung his Tachi in a wide arc, this time it shore though a wing, nearly severing it. The stricken creature somersaulted forward in the air and crashed into the stone wall, the sickening crunch of lots of large bones breaking echoed loudly, Red jumped in and started to hack away at the Rathian’s spine, Gold recovering from the shock from finding out that his attack had actually gone to plan ran towards the Rathian’s head, It spat a number of fireballs at the hunter, Red narrowly missed being hit by the lethal tail spikes, Gold dodged all the fireballs and as he recovered from his final roll to it’s head he stuck out his sword, It scored a deep cut on the shell between two red, hate-filled eyes, taking a massive gamble with his life, Gold jumped on his swords pommel putting all his weight on it.
There was a crack and a disgusting gristly sound, then the Rathian lay still, its brain pierced by a 6 foot blade, its death rattle was loud enough to burst eardrums, and haunting enough to chill Tris to the bone. Blood sprayed out as Gold retrieved the Tachi. The two comrades began to carve their kill when Tris said:

“Dana… what the hell’s that!?” Pointing at a shimmer in one of the clouds.

“It’s another Rathian… Look there’s more!” Dana gestured to the south.

“More!” Tris yelled, not bothering to hide from the hunters as he gestured to the west.

“Hey kids I thought we told you to go ho- oshit.” Said Gold as he saw what was happening.

Red also seeing, sounding as if he was going to shit himself, yelled “Let’s get the *bleep* outa here!”

A Rathian swooped down, missing Red by inches, and leaving a large hole in the floor. Another prepared to spit a fireball, seeing where it was aiming; Gold grabbed the kids and hurled them through the door, just before the fireball hit, causing the doorway to turn to rubble.

“We gotta get help!” was the only thing Tris said as they began to run to the village.

“Fat lotta help our hunters will do, I doubt any of them under sixty has seen never mind fought anything bigger than a Gypceros!” Exclaimed Dana.

Nevertheless they ran into their small village and explained their situation to the chief, who took no persuading to send every hunter and volunteer to the tower.

When they got back Tris spotted Gold supporting Red who looked half conscious as they ran towards their reinforcements, their armour was in tatters they were covered in blood… whose blood was impossible to see, Gold had a large chest wound and what was left of his helmet was spattered with purple poison.

The chief yelled for all bow and guns to fire as a number of Rathians swooped at the hunters, two of them were shot out of the sky, others were knocked off target, one narrowly missed and crashed, breaking its neck, only one was left to climb into the air. It circled for a while until others joined it, many of whom were bearing deep wounds, probably from the hunters and misjudged attacks from their sisters, fireballs rained around the small cohort of hunters, a few were caught in the fire and were incinerated. More wyverns fell to ranged attacks. Suddenly the entranceway to the Tower exploded outwards as four Rathians charged out the Blade-masters among the hunters, including the Chief stepped forward to protect their gunners, who then turned their attention to the newcomers one was felled by arrow-fire, the rest slammed into the waiting Swords, Shields, Axes, Spears and other weapons.
One Rathian was instantly brought down as it charged into an awaiting Lance headfirst, one other turned to face a Great-sword, it blew fire making the poorly armoured hunter burn instantly, It shrieked loudly and its tail was severed by another Great-sword, its wing was taken apart by the chief with his Dual-Swords, a Gun-lancer shoved his weapon into the screaming wyvern’s mouth, the other hunters assaulting the Rathian dived for cover as the Gun-lance charged its flamethrower. The Rathian’s head exploded in a billow of flame and a rain of grey matter.
The last charged through to the Gunner lines, killing a number of both Blade-masters and Gunners. Red and Gold having glugged a few potions and bandaged his remaining wounds set about the creature, turning light nicks in its scales to huge gaping wounds.
More Rathians descended from the heavens to wreak havoc on the remaining hunters. The battle raged for at least an hour, many were dead and many more were wounded, The Chief, Red, Gold, and the Gun-lancer were the only ones still on their feet, with two Rathians to go, the first charged at the Gun-lancer knocking him off his feet and into Gold, both now unconscious.
Red spun on his left foot, sweeping his axe into the monster’s eye, again and again until it dropped. As it did so I spat a rather pathetic fireball at Red, he sailed through the air on top of a dead gunner.
Leaving only the Chief and a moderately unscathed Rathian standing. The Rathian charged, the Chief rolled. But because of the bodies he couldn’t get very far, the Rathian charged straight into him, knocking his swords out of his hands, pinning him against the wall, Rathian nose to human midsection, the Chief thought “I’m going to die an excruciating death by fire and them I’m going to be eaten. Ah well I’ve had a good run!”
As the Chief began to feel heat on his legs, suddenly the Rathian arched its back and screamed. Blood sprayed from the stump that was now its tail. The Chief looked around to see what the hell had just happened. Standing there was a man dressed in tattered and blood spattered black robes, which he recognised as Death Stench armour, he held a black scythe, completing the Grim Reaper appearance.
The Stranger leapt into the air and swung his scythe down into the Rathian’s thigh, knocking it to the ground, he then kicked off the creatures back whirling his scythe in a wide circle, swinging it into the wyvern’s bottom jaw, a grunt and a quick jerk ripped the jaw clean off, The Coup dé grace came seconds after, in the form of the scythes point burying itself in the Rathian’s blood red eye, the shower of blood was enormous.
Now that the battle was finished, the medics set about gathering the wounded and collecting the dead, it was going to be a long week for them.





Chapter 1


The Chief sat on a log at one of the few campfires, they had decided to stop for the night halfway back to the village, as it was getting dark and with so many dead and wounded, there’s no telling what would confront them in the night.
Across from him sat the mysterious hunter, sharpening his scythe in long, slow strokes of the whetstone. He had pulled back his hood to reveal a young man with long dark hair and green eyes. He hadn’t spoken to anyone, nor had anybody spoken to him. So the Chief decided he ought to learn who his rescuer was. “Thank you for helping us today, kindness from strangers is a rare thing for us, not to mention the impressive wyverns against us.” The stranger said nothing. He just continued to sharpen his scythe, as though he wanted it to be able to cut the whetstone itself.

The Chief coughed awkwardly. “Can I ask your name?” He inquired.

“You may ask.” Was the rather uninformative and irritating reply.

“Okay, what shall I call you noble hunter?”

“My name is Abaddon, and no, it’s not my birth-name.”

“Abaddon ehh? May I ask what made you decide to take such a name?”

“No, you may not.”

“Very well. Then I won’t. What were you doing around the Tower? And why did you decide to help us?” The Chief asked.

“I was at the tower because I saw the sheer number of wyverns heading there, and I saw fire at the top. I decided to help because it was the right thing to do, I apologise for not arriving sooner.” Abaddon said, in a monotone.

“Well once again. You have my thanks; you are welcome in my village any time.”

“Thank you. I will stay there for a night, and then I will try to find out what the wyverns were doing in such vast numbers at the tower. No promises I’ll have an answer right away. And you may find I attract some… unsavoury characters.”

“I won’t inquire as to why, it’s your business not mine.” The Chief said.

And with that Abaddon walked off to the tent he had erected for himself, in a shady corner at the side of the camp. He lifted the tent flap closed it behind him and put a pot of hot water on a portable stove. He pull off his hood, his gloves and his boots then he climbed out of the robes and folded them neatly away. He put on some comfy clothes and put some Herbs and Sap plant in the pot, he stirred it for a while then he put in some shredded Dobiscus and some demonshroom powder, he drank down the strange tea in a single swallow, in hope that the drug haze would keep the nightmares at bay.

They didn’t.





Chapter 2

He stood before the men in Guardian armour, he was wearing his Ratholos Soul U, They held Guild knight Sabres, he held only his carving knife. Two of the Guild knights dragged an unconscious girl away, six stood to face Abaddon.
One rushed forward, Abaddon rolled into his legs tripping the knight up, he twisted as he stood up and jammed his knife into his victim’s throat. The next came, he span around in a balletic twirl his blades like a deadly windmill, Abaddon ducked under his defences and shoulder rammed his gut before stabbing him in the thigh and pulling the knife up until it came out of his shoulder on the opposite side, the unknown knight fell screaming, trying to hold in his guts and staunch the arterial bleeding, Abaddon barely noticed as the next two came at him. Both lunged the one on the left scored a gash on Abaddon’s cheek, the right would have gutted him had it not been for the fact his nose was broken and the bone forced up into his brain by a sharp uppercut. The left attempted to scissor his blades at Abaddon's neck, trying to decapitate him, he fell to the floor his throat so deeply slit it was a miracle his head was still attached, he made the fatal mistake of missing Abaddon’s neck by centimetres.
Abaddon picked up a set of sabres and charged the remaining knights, they charged him, Abaddon rolled, twirled as he stood, swinging his blades. He hamstrung the knights, he followed up by slicing the head off one and jamming the narrower sword into the others eye. His shoulder burned with pain, he was feeling feverish. The sword that cut him was poisoned!
Nevertheless he ran after the two Guild knights dragging the girl off.
He saw her unconscious and blood spattered in a cage, he couldn’t tell if it was her blood or not, his vision was getting blurry. He ran down and hacked the door to the cage open when all of a sudden he heard a muffled battle cry behind him, he sidestepped, and received a sharp blow to the head from a pommel, he blink furiously but his vision had turned blue and white, he got up and half charged half staggered into the assailant, He slammed his blades into his or her guts, he couldn’t tell any more. He hoisted the stricken human being into the air, still impaled on his swords, and then he scissored, slicing the poor bastard in two.
The battle was over; the other knight had obviously run away. He began searching for an antidote in a bag by the cage.
“Mrrf.” Said a voice. Delirious Abaddon looked up, the girl was speaking to him, seemingly frantically, but her words were muffled and her actions blurry, he couldn’t hear or see her at all well. She screamed, the sound pierced even the poisonous haze.
Then all of a sudden his back and stomach were on fire with agony. He didn’t need to see or hear to tell that he had been stabbed; the sword had entered the small of his back and had exited through the bottom of his chest. He cried out in pain. Abaddon slid off the blade and landed on the ground and turned over, his apparent killer was saying something.

“..Wa...p…”

“Wake….”

“Wake up!”

“WAKE UP!”

Abaddon sat bolt upright, eyes wide sweat pouring off him. He looked around and saw Tris in the tent. He was shaking.

“What’s going on?” Abaddon asks.

Tris didn’t need to answer; there was a raptor-like screech, a gristly sound and a blood curdling scream.

Abaddon grabbed his scythe, Yelled “Stay there!” to the kid and ran out of the tent.

There was a huge pack of velociprey attacking the camp, The chief and the few hunters still able to stand were all that had any chance in combat with the beasts.
The Chief had his dual blades and was protecting the field hospital the man in Ratholos armour from the Tower battle was defending the supply tents, the man in Golden Rathian armour protecting the civilian tents, Abaddon decided everything vital was being protected so he would just kill anything that he didn’t like the look of.

He heard another raptor call above him he spun around scythe aim high, he skewered the creature in mid air on the scythe blade, he kicked it off and ran to another prey, slicing off its head in a single stroke.

Then in a split second he was on the ground, something pointed slightly stabbing his back, he heard the hiss, the warm drool dripped on the back of his neck. He looked at a mirror in a nearby tent with its flap open, the Velocidrome was standing on his back.

“Get off me, you stupid mother*bleep*ing CREATURE!” He roared, and bucked until the drome lost its balance and stumbled off of him.
Abaddon didn’t waste a second, he unsheathed his carving knife dived under it’s legs, slashed as hard as he could, he had cut from the inside of the thigh up into the hip bone, the pitiful creature writhed and squawked wretchedly on the ground. The other prey had either been killed or they had fled, the Chief stood behind him. Abaddon didn’t bother to reach for the scythe, instead he grabbed a hold of the Drome’s leg and pulled… and pulled… there was a pop as the hip dislocated, he twisted, there was a disgusting tearing noise as the leg came off, shreds of meat and torn blood vessels hung spraying blood from the stump.
The Strangled scream of the Velocidrome was cut short by Abaddon swinging the severed leg at its head, the bone smashing straight into its head, The Velocidrome lost consciousness, and died.

Covered in blood and gore Abaddon went to the field hospital to get his wound checked.


I WARN YOU ALL! Next chapter is long and the ending depressing. But it will build up!







Chapter 3

After all the wounded had been patched up and the camp packed up the group immediately set off for the village. Halfway back they were at a small cliff edge in a large valley, rolling green hills and herds of Aptonoch everywhere, the place seemed like Utopia to everybody, except Abaddon.

Abaddon had walked over to the edge of the cliff kneeled down and started to dig with his bare hands.

The Chief began to walk over and see what was going on.

“What’s going on Abaddon, something bothering you?” He asked.

“I just need to check something, I know this place.” Abaddon said.

After about ten minutes Abaddon stood up to get a look at the uncovered objects.
Seven sets of Guild Knight Sabres and as many Guardian Helmets.

The Chief said “Guild knights died here, in battle. Do you have anything to do with this?.. Abaddon?” He looked to where Abaddon stood before, he was gone. The Chief looked around, and over the cliff. Abaddon was digging at its base. He stopped, held up an object that shone like a star in the sunlight.

When Abaddon had climbed back up the Chief asked “What did you find?”

Abaddon muttered “Encouragement.”

The Chief was about to ask just what the hell he meant when all of a sudden there was a huge rumbling, like an earthquake.

The looked over the edge again the ground was tearing itself apart, like a huge earth river heading south.
Suddenly a Monoblos burst from the earth, roared, then dove back under and continued on its way south.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Said the Chief.

“They are heading for the tower, like the Rathians were.” Abaddon noted.

“Well whatever, we gotta get outa here before we are noticed” The Chief warned

“Indeed we do.”


Eventually the group finally got back to the village; it was a quiet place a couple of dozen miles away from Kokoto, it had a slow running river through the middle of it, the nets were hung in the river ready to catch any half decent fish that swam by.

Some random kid sitting on a dock with a fishing rod spotted the column and yelled: “They’re back! Everybody come out They’re back!”

A number of doors opened as the hunters’ families came out to greet them, not knowing the horror they were about to face.

“Dear god, are any of them still alive?” A woman who looked to be in her mid forties asked.

The Chief sighed wearily. “Yes many died but many more lived thankfully, your husband included.”

“Oh thank heavens; I better go see what I can do to help.” She said running off into the column.

Another younger woman came up to the Chief and landed him a good hard slap on the cheek “How DARE you risk the lives of every hunter in the village for the sake of TWO men!? TWO MEN?” She slapped him again, and again.

“Well how would you feel if your brother needed help and we refused to come to his aid? He could be killed. I don’t want to do that to anybody, and I know I have, many more than just two. And I’m sorry, but we didn’t know what we were up against. But luckily for us this young man was there!” He said gesturing to Abaddon. “Had he arrived any later we would ALL be dead.”

The woman merely harrumphed and stormed off. A number of people came to see the Chief with similar complaints, and encouragements.

When finally a man a little older than Abaddon came up to the Chief and said “My wife died out there, because of you old man. I hope you are happy, because you are going to die!” And with that he whipped out a sword Abaddon recognised as The Princess Rapier.

The Chief closed his eyes expecting to be dead in seconds, he counted to ten, no blow came, he counted to twenty. Still nothing. He opened his eyes.

Abaddon was standing side on to him his right arm extended, with a carving knife jammed in the assailants face.

He sheathed the knife and said. “I would appreciate being shown to the inn or wherever I can sleep.”

The Chief incredulously said “Sure thing, thanks for saving my life for the umpteenth time.”

The Chief showed him to an empty house on the waters edge, bade him goodnight and left him to it.

Abaddon went straight to the bedroom; he lugged his gear box (that he had put on an Aptonoch cart for travelling from the Tower) up the stairs. He stripped out of his armour stood up his scythe in the corner.

He then washed off the blood on his hands. And washed the dirt and blood off the necklace he had found at the cliffs.

He looked at it for an hour, the jewel in the middle, the nick in the side, the delicate chain the sheer natural beauty of the uncut stone. He stared at it some more. Then he put it on. And started to cry.

He pulled a Bone Shooter from the item chest, loaded a shot into it, put the muzzle against his head, and threw it at the wall so hard it broke into pieces.

“I can’t die yet, He’s still alive.”

He grabbed an earthenware pot of some alcoholic beverage from the item chest, drank it all. And then he drank another pot, and cried himself to sleep.



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YAAAY!!! *Runs round in circles!!!*

I liked it.

Chapter 4

His vision cleared, the Guild knight stood over him, his sword dripping blood, Abaddon could see his face all to clearly, the Guild knight walked over to the girl, checked her pulse, shook his head and moved on to his companions, he was gathering the weapons and helmets of the fallen and burying them at the top of the cliff.
The girl was dead; she was due her piece so he buried a necklace he found around her neck beside her body.

He then walked back over to Abaddon. Thought about helping him, shook his head and walked away.

Abaddon lay there for some time. He dragged himself over to the bag by the crate, found several potions, he drank them all.
Having recovered from the world of his ailments he ran over to the dead girl.
He checked her vitals, non-existent, so instead he held her close. Rocking back and forth, crying his eyes out.

He went back over to the bag rummaged around muttering to himself.

"C'mon…c'mon there has to be a commission for this, I need to know who did this."

After a while he found what he was looking for. He unravelled the scroll. Skimmed it briefly and found the names.

Every head of a guild outpost had signed the warrant for his execution. And there were the names of the people sent to do it. He checked the names of the fallen on the helmets at the top of the cliff. Only one was missing.

Matt.

Abaddon woke up.

He didn't dress instead he remain in his bedclothes and walked out and downstream for a while, stripped off and dove into the river.

And then he immediately regretted doing so, the water was freezing!
So he decided to be quick about it. He washed off the grime and sweat of not bathing for two days after a battle. He stopped washing for a second and looks at himself; he was covered in scars from the claws and fangs of monsters and from the swords and knives of people.

He looked at two scars in particular, one was in the top of his chest, slightly circular and not very big, and another at the bottom of his chest, a larger more sinister scar.
And then there was the one in the small of his back.

He finished up, got dressed and headed back into town. Found the Chief and said:

"I'm heading out today, I'm going to see why the wyverns were headed to the tower, it could be important. I was wondering if I could ask a favour?" Abaddon asked

The Chief replied "You saved my life more times than I care to count Abaddon; anything you wish will be yours."

Abaddon replied "Thank you; I need an Aptonoch and a cart for my things. As my cap is days away and it's quite a lot to carry on foot."

The Chief said "It will be done friend."

"Thank you."

Abaddon decided to make one last stop before heading out. He grabbed his robes and His gun. Profusion. Loaded a Pellet shot into it, and headed towards the Guild outpost.

Chapter 5


Abaddon walked into the guild and up to the counter and said to the clerk.

"I need to see the Outpost head."

The clerk said cheerfully "Guild card please."

Abaddon flashed the grubby card that hadn't seen the light of day in years.

"Well I'm afraid to say that the Outpost head can only see hunters with important business. Do you have important business?"

"I do."

"Very well I will inform him of your arrival, wait there please!" She said gesturing to a bench with a sleeping drunk hunter on it.

Abaddon sat down, checked he had a silencer on the gun and that it was loaded. Everything was ready.

"Mr. Vincente will see you now." The clerk said to him.

Abaddon got up and walked through to the back of the outpost.

"I'm a very busy man. Please be quick, how can I help you?" Said a man who Abaddon could only describe as some businessman sleezball with extra slime.

Abaddon put back his hood and sat with his face less than a foot away from Vincente's.

"I-it's you. Abaddon… Urrm H-h-how are you?" He asked breaking out in the sweats.

"I'm wonderful now that we finally meet in person Vincente, are you scared?"
Abaddon said, his voice dripping with menace.

"N-n-no of course I'm not scared, I would never be afraid of criminal scum like you!"
He replied with poorly faked defiance.


Abaddon grinned. "You should be afraid where you are going."

And with that he jumped up smashed Vincente's nose with the butt of the gun, aimed it at the kneeling mans face.




And squeezed the trigger, firing pellets at near point blank range into his victim's skull.

Abaddon whipped the grey matter from his face, put up his hood and walked out.

He jumped up onto the Aptonoch cart, threw his gun in the back, took the reigns and waved goodbye to the chief. And finally set off for his wilderness camp.


2 hours later…

"Mr. Vincente somebody is here to se- oh god."
The hunter standing at the bar heard only sounds of vomiting, and then a sick covered woman ran out of the tavern to find the Village Chief.

The hunter stepped inside; he saw the body, its face shredded. Blood all over the walls, floor and even some of the ceiling. He ran outside and vomited.

Glad you liked it.



NEW CHARACTERS!

Name: Amy
Age: Circa 25
Hair: Red (not ginger) Long
Eyes: Dull green
Height: 5'7''
Weight: Circa 150 lbs
Birthplace: Unknown
Weapons: Gun lances
Armour: Kirin S, Pink Heart S.
Profession: Unknown
Description:

Amy is a new feature in Abaddon's life, she, him and Shinobi share a wilderness camp in a mountain cave near the Tower, very little is known about her beyond the fact she is also on the run from the guild, like Abaddon and Shinobi. Abaddon took her into his little coven because of his mutual dislike of the guild. Very little is known about her.



Name: Ashura Kotetsu
Age: 21
Hometown: Pokke
Hair: Middle length, dark brown hair, curls at bottom where helmet has stopped covering.
Eyes: Deep blue, same colour as the eyes of Kushala Daora
Favourite Armour: Ratholos Soul U or Kushala Daora S
height: 6 foot 3 inches
Weight: 78 Kilograms/10.5 stone
Description: Ashura is a young hunter in the continent of Minegrade. He is a skilled user of nearly all weapons but prefers long swords and dual blades he uses Kushala Daora S or Ratholos Soul U armour. He is the one person in Minegrade who could call himself truly close to Abaddon. And often hunts and go out on trips with him.
He lives with Abaddon in the cave because he too is on the run. He was framed for the murder of a respected guild knight.
Weapon of Choice: Crimson Lotus Blades/Supremacy Blade



Chapter 6

Abaddon steered the cart up through a narrow barely noticeable road at the foot of a small mountain, and then up to a small cave opening. Two people ran out of the cave,
One a girl called out:

"Abaddon! How did your trip go? What did you learn? What happened? You were gone for so long!"

Abaddon merely grunted, threw down a sack of supplies at her and said "Went as expected with a few added surprises, learned nothing new. But that snooze fest of a village is going to have a nasty little surprise waiting for them in the guild hall."

The other person a male said "Glad you're back, anything I can help you with?"

"Yeah man, get the Aptonoch inside, a storm is coming, but don't walk behind it severe weather warnings coming right outa its ass for the whole damn trip."

The man, Ashura as he is called laughed and proceeded to take the Aptonoch inside, He Abaddon and the girl, Amy, finished taking things inside in time to hunker down for the duration of the storm.

Abaddon was tired from the trip and decided to go straight to bed before the storm got too bad for him to hear himself think.

He went to his "room" deep inside the cave; past the "living room" which was just a wide section of cave which some cushions a stove a hearth and a natural lake, with a little waterfall.

He went over to his little desk looked at his hit list and checked off a name.

"I need to find this Matt person; soon, the nightmares are getting worse." He said to himself.

He took of his necklace, lay it down on the desk and climbed into bed.

He thought; "I need to go to the tower tomorrow, and find out why those wyverns are heading that way, I will need Ashura's help, the place will be like a fortress with all those monsters there. Maybe Amy, if she can prove she can actually use that weapon of hers worth a damn, I'm not impressed so far."

And with that he decided to call it a night, he picked up his book, a very old book on camouflage and how to hide yourself from wyverns and humans alike. He read for a few hours before snuffing out his candles. Then he lay there, not sleeping, wishing he could.

He heard Ashura go to bed, his soft footsteps over the cold stone of the cave, quietly slipping into bed and snuffing candles.

Then a little later, light snoring. And as if on cue, the loud clumsy footsteps of Amy.
She slipped into his room and whispered.

"Abaddon, are you awake?"

"Yes, what's up Amy?" He replied, thinking "As if I could sleep through you stumbling down the corridor like a drunk Basarios."

"Oh I just missed you is all, thought I would come in to say goodnight."

With that she climbing into Abaddon's bed, kissed him lightly on the forehead, and snuggled up close.

She started to tug at his waistband. He pulled her shirt off gently, he was already topless. She reached into his loose trousers and fondled him. He began to pull off her trousers. When they were both completely naked she kissed Abaddon again. And lay him down, she climbed on top.

And with that they proceeded to have, what was to Abaddon, completely passionless sex.


Abaddon woke up in the morning, got dressed, and left Amy snoring in his bed.

He had a quick swim in the lake, and then sunbathed outside to dry himself off. He got dressed again, and sat on a little rocky outcrop thinking.

Amy didn't mean anything to Abaddon really. She was just a way to keep blue balls at bay. He doubted she actually cared either. Not that it mattered to him.
He just found her annoying, and an inexperienced fighter, that was inexcusable should the Guild find their lair. She was also loud, completely lacking in a sense of stealth.
He had little if ANY respect for her. The list went on. But he didn't bother thinking about it; instead he grabbed a bow and hunted some Kelbi.

He went back to camp, skinned and butchered his kill, and fried some of the meat to have for breakfast. He knew Ashura would wake up soon so he just left the meat on the embers.

He went back outside to read a little more. Ashura came out, Burped, scratched his stomach and said:

"Hey man, I hear you got lucky last night?" He said smirking.

"Amy go blabbing?" Abaddon asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Abaddon it's a wonder Tigrex weren't jacking off in the DESERT Amy was so loud. She didn't have to blab." Ashura laughed.

"Figures." Abaddon muttered.


This message was edited by Leviathen on Aug 31 2008.

Glad you all like it, I'll try to write more tonight.

quote kuro kage kitsune

Good. But needs moar Kuro. Then I'd read it.

Well I'm sure I could plonk you into this one later, maybe the prequel story coming after

If it was this fic it would only be a small part probably.

Chapter 7



Later that morning Ashura and Abaddon sat making plans to infiltrate the Tower.
So far they had deduced that they would try to get as close to the place as possible by stealth, they would start out by canoeing downstream until they reach the ravine in front of the Tower, they would climb up, if need be fight their way over to the entrance, they would let off smoke bombs on every floor to help cover their infiltration. They would reach a level a few floors down from the top and then they would use explosives to blow out a part of the wall if necessary then they would climb to the top to see what was attracting all of the wyverns.

"What about Amy?" Asked Ashura.

"She can do as she pleases. If she wants to come she can, but I wouldn't trust her to sneak past a deaf blind Ratholos." Abaddon said wearily.

"Why? You planning to go at it in the nest?" Ashura winked.

"You disgust me Ashura, you reaaally disgust me."

"All in a days work my friend."

Then there were several splash's in the lake behind them, fish coming in for a change of climate Abaddon and Ashura guessed. None of them really knew why the fish came into the cave on Mondays. But the fact it made for easy fishing within a short range of a salvaged yet comfy couch was all that mattered to them.

"I'll get the rods." Ashura said.

"Hurry up man; I'm seeing Goldenfish and plenty of tasty looking ones in there."

Ashura went to get the rods; Abaddon dragged the legless couch over to the waters edge. Amy appeared beside him still wearing her white pyjamas.

"Heya lover!" she squeaked.

"Mornin' " Abaddon said

"How are you this morning Abaddon?" She asked, getting in his face, already beginning to piss him off.

"Not bad, fish just came in."

Ashura re-appeared with the fishing rods; he threw one to Abaddon, one to Amy, and plonked down on the couch with his own.

They all cast their lines into the lake; Amy sat on Abaddon's knee, once more annoying him.

They sat for a few hours, fishing until they got too bored. Ashura finished first and went off to clean and fillet his catches; Amy put down her rod next but continued to sit on Abaddon's knee. Later Abaddon, who was by far the most patient of them, drew in his last fish and out down his rod.

He yelled out to see if Ashura needed a hand.

"Naw man, just bring your fish over and I'll do the usual stuff, fillet, salt, spice, you know the drill." His reply was.

Amy did not get up. Instead she hugged him tighter.




Mistake.


Abaddon stood up abruptly and there was a rather large splash and a few more fish for Ashura.

Amy was unable to hold on, when Abaddon stood she fell straight into the water, she surfaced, gasped for a few breaths and before she could give him a mouthful he was already at Ashura's side chopping fish. A pot of boiling water on the stove.

She climbed out of the water made to start walking over to give him a slap, but then she looked down, and remembered.



White and water don't mix. She ran to the bedroom to get changed.


"Cruel man, cruel." Ashura remarked.

"Ahh, such is love." Abaddon smirked.

"Got me there I'm afraid."

All of a sudden they heard Amy scream, and saw her run out of the "dormitory" section of the caves wearing a shirt and some shorts. She dove behind the couch.

"There's something in there!" She said trembling.

Abaddon kicked open the spare equipment chest in the kitchen (Ravager blades make excellent cheese graters), grabbed an Hunter's Knife and threw one to Ashura. They braced themselves for a horrid creature coming out of the caves, perhaps a new, deadly species.

They waited. And after a minute or two, a monster walked out.












A Khezu Whelp.



"Aww ain't he cuuute." Said Ashura

"Yeah…" Abaddon said, he walked over the Whelp picked it up stroked it's little head, at least he hoped it was it's head, he was slightly worried as the electric current coming off of it lessened somewhat.

Amy walked over, patted its back and said:

"I wonder if we could put it to use somehow."

Abaddon grinned wolfishly and said "I know just how to do it. Ashura, you put any fish on to cook yet man?"

Ashura said "Nope, you want us to feed it?"

And with that Abaddon spun round threw the whelp into the air, and kicked it. It flew all the way across the room and hit a knife on a rack hanging above a stove; it was cut neatly into two, after that it promptly fell into the pot of water.

"Not quite, other way round, dude." He said before turning to put the weapons away.

quote pspfreak135

Lmao, I love the sense of humor in this fanfic, sickening, but sweet.

Just like me.

Chapter 8


Abaddon woke up in the middle of the night, he'd heard a glass breaking, it was probably just Amy but he needed to be sure, he wasn't going to sleep until he knew that the guild hadn't found them.

He carefully picked up his Profusion and a carving knife and crept out into the hallway.

Ashura had obviously heard it too he had poked his head outside the door, Upper Battleaxe in hand.

Abaddon loaded some pellet shots and strapped on an ammo belt.

Together they crept out into the living room, nothing was there, they threw a watertight lamp down into the lake to illuminate the bottom, nobody hiding there.

They checked the entranceway, the huge stone coloured cloth that Abaddon had hitched up as a makeshift door was open and flapping in the wind.

"Check the bedrooms again." Abaddon whispered.

Ashura crept back to the bedrooms; Abaddon took up a sniping position behind a rock in front of the cave mouth and switched to pierce shot.

A short while later Ashura came back shaking his head.

"Amy's not in her bed man." He said.

"Aw crap, I'd better go make sure no guild bastards have found us. Hell, maybe there was a Khezu whelp in her room. Wait here and kill anybody who please comes in." Abaddon half smiled


Ashura nodded and Abaddon ran outside again, moving from cover to cover he ran up a little trail to a cliff above the Cave mouth, He scanned the area with his binoculars, a few hundred yards away from the base of the mountain he saw somebody, he looked through his scope and zoomed right in.

It was Amy; nobody could mistake her pink Felyne pyjamas.

She appeared to be burying something, Abaddon decided to see what it was.

He waited until Amy was almost back at the caves before heading back down the trail, making sure he wasn't spotted by Amy he ran down to where he saw her bury the object.



He dug out a little brown wooden box, it had a note inside:






Captain.

The fugitives are still in their caves, it's a relatively simple layout so even the dumbest of your men should be able to find their way around with too much trouble.
They keep their best weapons and armours in their bedrooms close at hand; they also keep a spare equipment chest in the kitchen area, where of course there are many dangerous cooking implements.

Tomorrow we are going to head out to the Tower to find out what is attracting the wyverns. I suggest you infiltrate the cave then. And prepare an ambush for us coming back. In case you are too stupid to find your way around I left a basic diagram of the caves inside the box.

Upon your capture of the fugitives bring them back here.

I look forward to bringing these scumbags to justice.

Lieutenant Amy.



"Son of a bitch." He said.


Then, all of a sudden. Abaddon had an idea.

He wrote a copy of the note and placed it inside the box which he reburied, and took the original back to the caves.


When he got back Ashura told him Amy had went immediately to bed, Abaddon showed him the note, and told him he had an idea.

For the next few hours, Ashura saw him take covered carts down the mountainside.

And then for the rest of the night before Even after Ashura hit the hay, he tinkered away on his Profusion.

His head in his devious plans for the hunt that was to come.

The hunt of the Guild Knights coming to pay them a visit tomorrow.

quote The Kushala Kid

Btw. Where is Ashura's Supremacy Blade!? That is his main weapon.

It comes soon my friend.

Chapter 9

Morning came. The three hunters arose; they got dressed and armed themselves;

Abaddon had his profusion, he loaded it with a curved clip of Pierce Shot Level 1, he wore his Ratholos Soul U.

Amy was wearing her Pink Heart armour and wielded an Imperial Gun lance. She looked nervous.

Ashura wore his Kushala S and strapped his Supremacy Blade to his back.



As they were about to head out Abaddon said:

"Amy… I don't feel so good… can you do me a favour? Run out down about a third of a mile away from the cave… there's a patch of disturbed earth in front of a large kinda nose shaped boulder, a mole hill I'm guessing. Anyway there's some herbs down there that seem to help nausea can you go get some?"

"Uhh sure thing." she said, visibly breaking into a sweat. "I'll be right back."

"No rush… don't want you to hurt yourself before we get to the Tower so no running, walk, I'll have Ashura watch you from the cave mouth. So you can't tell me you walked when you didn't!" Abaddon said, feigning a weak voice.

Amy walked out of the cave. Right to where Abaddon told her, right down to where the note was buried.

Abaddon checked his gun and looked outside the cave.

He heard some men shouting, incomprehensibly, but he recognised the upper crust tone of the elite guild knights.

"They're coming. Decadent morons." He said.

"What's the plan dude?" Ashura asked.

"Simple. I blow their *bleep*ing brains out. You chop them up."

"Nice plan."

Abaddon grinned; leapt outside the cave and unleashed a shower of bullets at a speed that he didn't know was possible of a bow gun.

Screams of the hit were pretty loud, then there was the twang of bowstring and the thunder of gunshots. Abaddon rolled inside the cave-mouth.

"One of my modifications, I count at least forty of them still standing." He said with a menacing sneer on his face.

He pulled out his carving knife and slotted it into a little metal tube below the barrel of the gun, stepped outside and unleashed a small volley of bullets, he stepped back inside and reloaded.

"They're about to come in." He said.

So they both took cover, Ashura on a ledge above the doorway, Abaddon behind the stove.

The Guild Knights swarmed in. Taking a defensive position, in case of any more sudden surprises.

Instead Abaddon quite simply jumped up and started pouring more shots into their ranks, aiming to take out the gunners first, he dropped a few, and just as they were about to blow apart his position with explosive shots Ashura dropped down and started hacking them to pieces, blade swinging left and right, dismembering half a dozen in his first round of attacks.


Abaddon, instead of hanging back and letting Ashura have all the fun, ran in and skewered a man on his makeshift bayonet, fire some shots to get him off and moved on to the next guy.

He swiped his bayonet across his neck, turned left and fire a few shots into somebody's (he didn't really give a crap whose) face.

Ashura continued his bloody rampage of death and general dismemberment until suddenly an arrow hit him… He looked down at the wound, he say a blue liquid on the arrow shaft and said:

"Sleep coatings you shtupig bargshtug." Before promptly falling flat on his face and being dragged out of the cave.

Abaddon continued to spray bullets around the cave until he too was hit by a tranquilising arrow, he didn't attempt any witty response, instead he just grunted, and fell asleep.


When they came to they were surrounded by blood covered grim faced Guild knights, the wounded on stretchers beside those who could stand.

Amy, no longer looking apologetic and nervous, strode over arrogance and smugness plastered all over her face, she said:

"Well Abaddon. Any last requests before you die?"

"Actually yes, I have always wanted to try that stuff the village elders smoke, got any of it? It has always smelled nice." He said almost fearfully on the outside, trying not to crack up on the inside. His plan was working perfectly.


"Yes very well. I can oblige that." She handed Abaddon her smoking pouch and a match.

Abaddon made himself a cigarette and struck the match on his boot.


"I have a few last words." He said.

"Say them, You haven't got much time left to tell us." Amy sneered.

"Very well, first of all I would like to say to all of you Knights, you were wonderful opponents and I was glad to have tested myself in combat against you. To Amy I would like to say, you were an awful shag and it's just as well nobody will have to suffer you again… go burn in hell!"

He threw the lit match onto the ground in front of him the gunpowder he had sprinkled around last night lit… the flames went incredibly fast along all the gunpowder trails down through tubes into what looked like a bunch of mole hills.
The buried bombs exploded.

Body parts flew everywhere, pink mist was thick in the air, the smell of burnt flesh clogged up Ashura and Abaddon's nostrils. Their ears rang with the sound.

Abaddon walked over to Amy's flaming corpse and lit the cigarette on it and walked away, he took a drag on the cigarette made a face and threw it away in disgust before continuing to walk to the Cave.

Before retrieving his sword and Abaddon's gun. Ashura simply said "I need a *bleep*ing drink."

Indeed she is... decided to flex my pyromaniac muscles.

And old friend? First time you have given me a moderately affectionate term in public! Thank you... old friend

Yours is a pretty damn good fanfic too.

Indeed Kushy. Bang! and the bitch is gone!

Chapter 10 Part one.

The canoe cut through the sluggish waters silently, the two men inside didn't bother rowing unless they had to steer away from rocks, to maintain stealth they simply leg the water carry them to their destination.

"There's the bridge." Abaddon whispered. Pointing to the bridge across the chasm to the entrance of the tower.

They pulled their canoe up onto the pebble strewn shore of the quiet water and tied it down in case the water level rose and carried away their planned means of exfil.

Abaddon pulled out a Hunters Power Bow and an arrow with a wide barbed V shaped head with a rope attached Abaddon put the bow down and made sure his scythe was firmly attached to the back of his robes, then he started climbing, with Ashura in tow.

When Abaddon reached the top of the rope he threw some smoke bombs over the top to cover them.

They vaulted the cliff edge and set off at a silent run towards the nearest rocky outcrop. They looked around. Wyverns were sleeping everywhere. They took off towards the entrance but before they went in they looked up.

Ratholos, Rathians, Gravious, Kut Ku, any wyvern that could breathe fire was up there breathing a sea of flame at the summit.

The hunters shrugged at each other and began the long climb to the top.

They reached the entrance of the top of the tower, they couldn't get in the ceiling had caved in, in front of it.

So instead the laid a small bomb next to a crack filled section of wall, it blew it right open, they climbed to the top and hid behind a pillar to scope out the situation.

The whole summit was a bowl of molten rock and in this bowl there was a black spiny beast lying in the lava it was screaming, sending a jet black stream of putrid air into the air so powerful that it smashed straight through a wall at the first touch.

The wyvern screamed so loudly the entire Tower shook. There was a "glob" like sound and a black sphere rose from the depths of the lava.
There were similar spheres floating in the molten rock.


Abaddon consulted a book on rare wyverns he had in his backpack.

"Akantor… I think... I think it's giving birth dude. With all these wyverns around we can't start an open fight without back up." He said.

Ashura grunted and started to climb down.

Abaddon said "Go ahead man I'm gunna take some sketches… this may never be seen again."

Ashura a nodded and began to climb down.

Abaddon pulled out a pencil and began to draw the amazing spectacle, both in the skies and in the birth pool.

When he finished up he packed away his sketches and pencil and pulled out a flash bomb.

He jumped onto a passing Rathian threw the flash in front of it's faced and held on for dear life.

The flash exploded and the wyvern dropped like a stone waving its wings frantically,
It landed with hardly a bump on the bridge.

"Good girl." He said, he then promptly swung his scythe downwards and brained the creature.

He waved to Ashura who was just walking out of the entrance.

Ashura looked up, leapt back in terror yelling something and pointing up.

Abaddon looked up just in time to see the Akantor land on the bridge in front of him.

Ashura ran towards the rope and started to climb down, motioning for Abaddon to do the same.

The Akantor leapt at Abaddon who rolled under it, he brought up his scythe blade.

It bit into the wyvern' stomach, tearing a massive gash into it. The Akantor swung it tail as Abaddon got up, he was swept clear of the bridge.


He fell, he fell, he stopped falling and everything turned black

Chapter 10 part 2

Abaddon opened his eyes, it was so bright.

He looked around; in the blazing light he saw Ashura's grim face.

He was faintly aware of splashing noises; Ashura was rowing their canoe upstream.

He tried to sit up, he felt really sick, he vomited over the side of the boat.

His wrist and shoulder blazed with pain.

Ashura said "Hey dude, you fell like fifty feet, how do you feel?"

Abaddon said in a hoarse voice. "I'm nauseous, my head is spinning, I'm filled with pain and I'm as thirsty as hell. The usual basically. Where's my scythe?"

Ashura grinned, but the smile faded at the question.

"It broke your fall man, and probably your collar bone too. It's wrapped up in that blanket there." He said pointing.

Abaddon made a rudimentary splint for his wrist and unwrapped the scythe, or what was left of it.

The handle was snapped in 3 places and the blade was in large, almost glass-like shards.

Abaddon felt like he had lost a brother in arms, that scythe had slain so many Guild Knights in his hands, even a few Guild Outpost Leaders, and innumerable monsters.

"D-do we have a file?" he said a tear running down his cheek.

"Sure man." Ashura handed over the said file.

Abaddon took the shard that was the point of the scythe and started to file away at its edges, giving it a blade on the convex side and blunting the side that was once attached to the rest of the blade.

When he was finished he put the shard into his backpack and wrapped up the rest of the scythe back in the blanket and helped Ashura row back to the Cave.

When they got back they had some food and Abaddon went to get his Profusion.

He slotted the filed scythe blade into the bayonet ring and admired his handiwork.

It would gut this "Matt" person nicely.

After this he grabbed some fish to eat before hitting the sack.

But something didn't feel right. He walked over to the Cave mouth and looked outside, Profusion in hand, when he stepped outside his instincts told him to move the hell away, Abaddon dove to the right.

Just in time to avoid a thrown knife, dripping in poison. Abaddon fired shot after shot at the robed figure that had jumped down from a ledge above the Cave Mouth.

One hit him in the shoulder. Abaddon's clip was empty and the enemy was off balance, He rushed in, shoving his new bayonet into His assailant's gut, Abaddon smiled grimly and ripped his gun upwards.

The assassin screamed as his entrails pooled at his feet, blood spurting from the massive wound. Abaddon smashed his nose in with Profusion's butt. He span round and decapitated his would-be murderer.

Ashura joined him and they had a quick trawl through his pockets.

They found a bag full to the brim with coins, no doubt a portion of their bounty, a few extra weapons, some survival items (Cured meat, potions, herbs, poisons etc), a note with their whereabouts and details.

And a guild card.

"Congratulations…" Abaddon scanned the note. "Ms Rivierre, you have just directly funded terrorism." He said.


This message was edited by Leviathen on Sep 07 2008.

What is?

THE CHEYENNE PHRASES USED IN THIS ARE VERY VAGUE ATTEMPTS AT WHAT I WAS TRYING TO SAY! DUE TO LACK OF ONLINE DICTIONARIES THE ARE BY NO MEANS CORRECT PROBABLY, SO JUST GO WITH IT.


Chapter 11



They decided that they weren't going to take any chances, Ashura and Abaddon took alternating three hour watch's at the Cave Mouth.

Ashura woke Abaddon up.

"Time for my watch?" He asked sleepily

"Uh-uh, some people are out there… not guild types. Come have a peek." Ashura said.

They crept towards the Cave Mouth.

They had a look at the people in the camp below through binoculars, Abaddon said:

"Cathulii Shadow men. Assassins, scouts and commandos of the Cathulii tribe, who live far to the west, beyond the guilds control. They hate the guild almost as much as we do. I'm going down."

Abaddon walked calmly down to them and said:

"Hello nesene, Netone'xovomohtahe?"*

With this the Cathulii stood up ready to fight.

"Nahoovehe. Tosa'e netao'setsêhe'ohtse?"

"To the Castle Schrade, how do you speak our language so well?"
Their leader asked.

"I spent time in your land many years ago, I don't speak you language all that well, but why are you going to Schrade?"

"The leaders of your Hunters Guild, are gathering there, they fear that a shadow man from Kokoto hunts them. We go to murder them like the rats in a corner they are."

"Any enemy of the guild is a friend of mine, come, stay in my home for tonight, we shall plan the guilds demise."

The Cathulii followed Abaddon to the Cave where they spent the night drawing up plans for the death of the Guild's Leaders, Abaddon gave them supplies and kitted them out with any spare weapons that surpassed their own, which wasn't often.

They set off in the morning, armed to the teeth with bloodlust in their eyes. They were to strike at night, so they began the short hike to Schrade at midday.

By the time they got there it was barely getting dark so they just set up camp and relaxed until it was time.

Night finally fell, Abaddon strung his bow and took some of the Shadow men with him, all who had bows went with him, all who didn't went with Ashura.

Ashura was to go infiltrate the front gate as quietly and quickly as possible.

Abaddon's squad spread out in some dense bushes just below the shortest section of wall, they pulled back their bowstrings, each with a sharp poison coated arrow resting on it. They waited for the signal.

In fifteen minutes a figure waved torch on top of the central gate, which was designed to separate enemy armies into two easy to manage groups should they get inside. That was the signal.

The guards on the wall dropped in a hail of arrows. One, standing on a higher section of wall noticed what happened, he raised a warning horn to his lips to alert the entire fortress, Abaddon put an arrow in his windpipe. The blood spurting from the wound extinguished the torch illuminating their part of the wall nicely.

The group threw up grappling hooks. And climbed up the wall. They worked their way around the walls sniping out every guard they could. Down in the courtyards was a camp full of the Outpost Leaders' personal bodyguards, most of them asleep, in the comfortable but ultimately untrue fact that the gates and the walls were perfectly well guarded.

When the walls were clear they took up positions on the artillery, Abaddon on a Ballista, the other manned by three other shadow men, the gate winch was on top of the gate house and was being manned by Ashura, the cannons were manned by the Shadow men's leader and the youngest of their group. The rest grabbed their bows and stood on the battlements.

Abaddon gave the signal, all hell broke loose as tainted arrows, ballista bolts and cannon balls rained down upon the camp, the gate crashed down on some poor bastards' tents, most likely killing them instantly.

The arrows rained down, when the ballista bolts had run out and the cannon balls the artillery men pulled out their bows.

By the time the cohort had run out of arrows what was left of the Guild Knights had assembled and tried to retreat back in to the gate house, they were met with swords and axes, Abaddon cut down half a dozen of them with his bayonet.

He was saving bullets for the people who mattered.

When the last of the Guild Knights had died screaming, Abaddon loaded his Profusion, met up with Ashura and the Shadow men's leader, they took an extra bodyguard just in case by some miracle they actually needed him.

When everybody was ready the four men walked up to the door of the top room of the Gatehouse, where the Leaders were hiding. Abaddon blew the doors down with a cluster shot.

He took a deep breath, fingered the necklace, and strode in.



*Hello my friend, how are you?

I am a friend, where are you going?

Chapter 12


The smoke cleared terrified faces all around the room stared in a mixture of paralysing fear, and gut wrenching horror.

Abaddon checked his gun.

"You all know who I am, and what you have done to me. For some of you, I may give you the mercy of a quick moderately painless death, the rest of you will suffer, make no mistake about that." He said grimly.


One man, short fat, used to a life of decadence, crawled over and, on his knees begged for mercy.

"Please, Abaddon, you know I have a fiancé, and she is gong to have a bab-"

Abaddon didn't even look at him when he blew his brains out; he simply whipped the blood and grey matter from his faced and continued walking in.

"Those of you who wish to die with honour, blade in hand, may do so. The rest of you can die grovelling like that worthless sack of conga shit."

A massive hulking beast of a man, who Abaddon recognised as a higher up from Osmancos, charged with a hammer in hand.

The monster of a man attempted to roar out a battle cry but he stopped moving abruptly, the barrel of Profusion was in his mouth, he dropped his hammer. He made a begging gesture with his hands. Abaddon poured bullets down his neck anyway.

More blood splattered against the walls, the floor decorated with charred and shredded meat, torn blood vessels, tendon flecks and small chunks of bone and cartilage.

"As you can see no amount of begging will help you." Abaddon growled as the large body flopped on the ground, in a lake of his own blood.

The rest of the people in the hall grabbed whatever weapons they could, and charged.

Abaddon kicked over a table and dived behind it, spraying bullets as he went.

He reloaded a clip of scatter shots, stood up and strode out; He fired left and right, somebody with every shot.

Some old bat of a woman, looking ridiculous thanks to her Raven Tessen, which were bigger than her, came screaming at Abaddon, he scalped her in a single swipe of his bayonet, following up by cutting into her neck bones. He smashed the butt of the gun into the side of her head, firing a scatter shot into another Guild Knight's face.

Her brain flew out of her opened skull and landed on a plate, Abaddon doubled over with laughter, though he never stopped firing. He simply couldn't stop cackling at the sick joke that he only found funny.

More and more came, Abaddon was surprised so many people could fit up here.
He shoulder rammed one, and with a thrust and a twirl he used his bayonet to whip out the poor bastard's entrails, spraying the room with blood and stomach juices.

He shot two more Knights in the stomach, reloaded some pierce shots and landed two headshots with one bullet.

He finally ran out of shots, he was wearing a few more wounds than he went in with, nothing bad but he could feel the effects of poison going through his system. He was dizzy, black clouds floated in and out of his vision, colour was fading. Rage kept him going though.

He pulled out his carving knife. He was going to have some fun with the last of them.

The Cathulii waiting outside finally saw Abaddon walk out, after hours of screaming and insane laughter, blood spattered, grinning insanely. He patted Ashura's breastplate, leaving a bloody hand print on it. He kept walking, until he was outside on top of the Gatehouse, laughing until his sides hurt, and then some.

Ashura walked into the room, not a single inch of the room was dry, blood and the occasional puddle of piss was everywhere, even the ceiling.

The old woman was biting into her own brain; people were tied up in their own guts.

One man had been killed by having his own arm ripped off and shoved hand first back in the wound, on closer inspection it seemed that Abaddon had helped him squeeze his own heart until it had burst.


Finally. Nailed to the ceiling by four rapiers, was the man that had sentenced Ashura to death so many years ago. His intestines and several arteries had been tied to various points in the room, some had been used to strangle others, his body was naked, emasculated, covered in cuts and missing huge chunks of flesh, and his body was still like a waterfall of blood. And on his left side was carved "For Ashura." On his right "for Zoey." His forehead." "For me." And on his chest. "For my unborn child."


Abaddon walked in again. "Like my little masterpiece?" He asked.


This message was edited by Leviathen on Sep 12 2008.

quote caliginous

umm yah... not so much...

That was way to much no offense, I just think you took the gore just a tad to far. I liked the other chapters, but this one killed it. It's to dark...
Just a bit of advice to tone it down a bit...

You raise and interesting point... I'll think about it...



Ok thought about it... no. *bleep* no. This is who Abaddon is, that is what he has been planning for years, the only thing he has wanted in his recent life is their suffering and death.

So that's the way it is.

The story is a dark one I'm afraid!

quote caliginous

Anyways ill stop bothering you now.

I DO appreciate the criticisms, I'm just giving my reasons for my brainchild being so evil!

Chapter 13


Abaddon walked out, grinning, he walked down to a little stream and stripped off his armour, the blue scales were covered in gore. He tied the armour pieces together along with a few rocks and just threw it in the stream.

Red ribbons danced along the currents.

He slipped in quietly at a part slightly upstream from the armour to wash the blood, sweat and various other bodily fluids from himself.

When he had finished washing himself and his armour he went back to the castle, where the camp had been taken to, and changed into some comfy clothes to have a nap.




Abaddon stood facing the Guild Knights, sword in hand.

It wasn't a special sword, just your average bog standard steel Hand-and-a-half.

The first of eight ran up to him, and almost immediately fell over, top half first of course.

Next three of them, not underestimating their opponent by much ran forward swinging blades as they came, they knew that their opponent fought dirty, and relished it.

The first of the three lost the top half of his head before he could so much as swing his sword at his target.

The second and third attacked both sides in a pincer. Abaddon dodged back and the second lunge as the third attempted a squint scissor attack. Abaddon could have lost an arm but instead only received a light gash across the shoulder and a scoring mark across the chest from the thirds lunge.

The third had overbalanced, having put too much power into his attack, and fell plunging his swords straight into the second's guts. If the swords didn't kill him the large dose of belladonna would.

Third had his spinal column sliced several times before he went down.

Abaddon looked around at the smoldering village.

Blackened houses were everywhere, not a breath of life, until Abaddon heard a sneeze.

He looked into the house it came from, and surprise, surprise, there were two of the remaining Knights were waiting in ambush. Abaddon didn't let them attack, instead he just kicked down the last beam holding the place up and let the burning roof fall on them.

He spun round to see that last of the Knights wielding a strange blade he had never seen before.

He made the first attack, hoping to plunge his blade into the Knight's brain.
The Knight countered. Abaddon grinned, a real challenge, somebody he could take vengeance upon for his ruined village. The strange blade swung upwards, Abaddon parried easily.

He swung the broadsword at the Knight's throat, he dodged and swung a haphazard riposte, Abaddon rolled forward bringing up his sword, his feet were kicked from under him.

He rolled to the right to avoid having his head split in two. He came up swinging, his sword grazed the assailants nose. First blood.

They both charged, the swords came together in mid overheard arcs. A shower of sparks rained upon them.

The fight carried on for hours, Abaddon was dizzy from poison and blood loss, he was dehydrated, starving and just about dead on his feet.

The knight was probably feeling only marginally better.

Abaddon knew that if he did survive the fight, there would be the secondary squad to deal with.

Abaddon half lunged, half staggered at his opponent, his sword was deflected by an equally wild blow, broken in half too.

Abaddon, now defenceless stood waiting for the killer blow. He simply said.

"Before you kill me, take off that helmet, that mask of inhumanity, and look me in the eye."

The knight did so, looked him straight in the eye, nodded, and lunged.

Abaddon felt the sword pierce his body, deeply. But not as deeply as he thought.

The sword was painfully wrenched out. Then he realised what had happened.

"ZOEY!" He screamed before they both hit the floor.

His attempted murderer was walking away, the secondary squad approaching to clean up the mess.

They dragged the love of his life away from his dying body, she was breathing, but bleeding badly. They didn't even put her on a stretcher, the just dragged her by the arms.

Abaddon summoned up his strength, got up and stumbled over to a Knight whose back was facing him.

The Knight fell down with a broken neck, head twisted around full circle.

Abaddon grabbed his carving knife and loped off towards the others, who were carrying what pitiful treasures they could find from the haunted, soulless tomb that was once his village.



Abaddon awoke, covered in sweat. He shook off his nightmare and went to the campfire.

He made himself some coffee, let the water left in the pot cool. He dumped it over himself to wake up and to wash off.

He looked around, he was pale, hands shaking, the way he always was after he dreamt.

Ashura was walking towards him, looking his usual mix of a grim cheerfulness.

He made himself some coffee, and thanked Abaddon for helping him get his vengeance before having a nap himself.

Abaddon decided to have a little walk to clear his head.

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.

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.

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."

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."

Chapter 18

Zoey smiled.

Abaddon was still speechless.

Ashura was still wondering what the *bleep* was going on.

Their breath turned to mist in the air. The ground and walls were being covered in frost, stemming from the light.

"Zoey...." Abaddon whipered.

"I know why you've come Nathaniel. The Akantor is marshalling what could only be described as an army. You need the power to destroy it - and its cohorts." Zoey said, her tone had shifted from a soft melody, to a hard, cold, tactical voice.

"Yes, that's why I came, I need your help. Though - I didn't expect to see you in person..." Abaddon's voice was almost cracking.

Once again Zoey's tone changed, back to the soft, caring voice she had welcomed them with, and also her face melted into a soft smile. "And you also seek forgiveness - for "liking" Her."" She winked.

Abaddon blushed, and looked away slightly.

The spectre giggled and said: "You need not worry, I'm happy for you. Now... to business - I'm afraid you are not going to like what's about to happen."


Abaddon turned his eyes to her once more. "Why?" He asked.


"Take the sword, wrap the pendant around the hilt..." She sighed. "And then stab me."

Abaddon look shocked, and truely, truely disheartened - After years of being alone in agony, He finally was able to see and talk to the love of his life - and now she was asking him to kill her.


"It's the only way." She said.


She kneeled down, put her hand under his chin, leaned in and kissed him a kiss that was so cold it froze his lips and looked into his tear filled eyes.

She held out the sword and the pendant.

Nathaniel took them, tied the lace of the pendant around the handle and stood up.

He took a deep breathe, closed his eyes for a few minutes, just breathing, feeling the weight of the sword, immensely heavy in his hands - as though it had been replaced by the obsidian block.

He pulled his feet from the layer of frost covering them, he widened his stance.





He lunged.

There was a feeling as though he had plunged the sword into snow, rather than flesh.

He heard a slight gasp.

He felt the tears freeze on his cheeks.

He opened his eyes - Zoey was no longer there.

Something was changing.

The sword's blade became longer, narrower, it took on more of a leaf like shape, with four small backward curving blades at the back, the handle longer, the black leather became a dark, saphire blue, the pommel was larger, and four steel claws held the uncut stone of the pendant in place, the guard changed, the front guard, the one that went over the fingers, took on a look resembling the wing of a bat - or demon, the other guard - over the wrist, took on the likeness of a bird's wing, or an angel's, ancient Wyverian text flashed blue on the blade.

The blade became frosty, a frost that would never leave it.

The metal of the blade itself shone like a silver star.

His armour changed too, the dark, stained cloth of the robes melded with the azure scales and plates of his Azure Ratholos armour, the shape changed to something smoother, spiny in places, and all round a smaller looking suit of gleaming black scales, almost as if somebody were to make a ratholos out of obsidian and turn it into a suit that made Abaddon's tall, lanky figure look like it had marched straight out of Hell to judge the earth.


Abaddon sheathed the sword, shouldered his bow and quiver and left Zoey's tomb, knowing that She would never leave Him again.

quote Dragonbuster91

Finally! Its good to see you writing again, Leviathen. Once I can come back regularly, I'll be following your fanfic carefully.

Yay! I'm getting my readers back!

quote Fire Squall

Thats going to do a lot for his mental health, isn't it?

I'd guess not.

Chapter 19

They stepped out into the night, a more familiar sight greeted Abaddon.

The house was a burned out ruin, moss covering the cracked flagstones and bricks, windows gone, walls caved in, and the ceiling a pile of rubble scattered about the house.

There was a light rain and a lot of mist clinging at the ground.

There was a stench in the air.

The two advanced a down the pathway on the long walk back to the wagon.

“This seems a bit more like it.” Abaddon remarked.

The sounds of battle reached their ears, a long with a series of animalistic roars.

The two drew their bows and nocked arrows before running down the path at full sprint.

When they reached the end of the pathway they saw the two Cathulii accompanying them standing on top of the wagon, using their tomahawks to try and fend off a horde of rotten, stinking creatures.

Abaddon giggled to himself when a spark of realisation hit him.

“This is the first family reunion I’ve been to since I was a child.” He said lightly.

They loosed their arrows into the ranks of the undead, and continued to do so until they had no arrows left, out of the two dozen arrows fired, two creatures were dropped, and a few others perforated.

“Okay, so they are very hard to kill, do we rush in and cut them up? Or just rush at them and cut them up in a tactical manner?” Ashura asked.

“I say we just do the easy thing.”

Abaddon drew his frosty blade, the silvery metal gleaming in the rain and the moonlight.

Ashura drew the Supremacy Blade inspecting its blade with his usual admiration.

The two charged into the horde – Abaddon leapt and crashed into the top of the creatures, taking off a head as he fell, Ashura slid underneath them, cutting the legs off of many.

The pair regained their balanced and started to arc their blades through the horde, a whirling ballet of sliced flesh and bone and spraying corpse juices.

They hacked their way around the wagon, moving in alternating circles, trying to take the pressure off the two escorts holding off the ones that got past, giving Abaddon and Ashura time to carve another swathe.

As he sliced another pair of rotten assailants into pieces, he noticed that the wounds he caused filled with frost, and needle like icicles – the sword grew lighter.

Abaddon took note of this and put it to use by slicing in wider, faster arcs.

The horde continued to press in – never seeming to let up.

Ashura noticed that other people were joining in the fight, but not who, just grateful for the fact there was a chance that they would not be torn to shreds by ravenous monsters.

After a while the undead ranks began to thin out, until Abaddon had plunged his blade into the skull of a legless one that was trying to chew through his armoured ankle to little avail.

The two lowered their swords and looked towards their saviours apparent, then raised their swords again in a flash, chests heaving from exhaustion.

The marks on the armour of the hunters that had helped them, were emblems of the guild.

quote Dragonbuster91

Wait a minute, you've lost me. Where did the zombies come from?

Next chapter shall explain it.

Chapter 20

Abaddon’s chest heaved, his shoulders ached from the effort of hacking through so many bodies.

Ashura limped, the edge of his sword rested on the ground.

There was a reek of rot and decay in the air.

The group of hunters walked slowly towards them, imperfections and damage on their armour becoming apparent as they got closer.

The Cathulii jumped down from the cart and stood by Abaddon; the four raised their weapons and took deep breaths.

“Stay your weapons – we mean you no harm.” The lead hunter said. He flipped up his visor, and a skull’s empty sockets stared back at them.

“We are not the mindless beasts that those were.” He said gesturing to the pile of hacked up corpses on the ground.

Abaddon did not speak, just kept his weapon raised and ready to strike.

Despite the fact that skeletons have no lungs it managed to sigh. “Very well, I see you need an explanation. We who stand before you now are your ancestors, hunters, as you can see. When we died, like all your relatives we were entombed here, as it has been for centuries, the wyverians made all hunters interred here guardians of this home, but some ignorant fool who did not see the purpose of hunters, and indeed did not like us made sure that all others that died and buried here would attack hunters that came here. It fell to us to make sure that this did not happen, with our combined wills, we were able to prevent it from happening, When your Zoey was buried here, she too joined us, the more there are of us, the less effort we need to dedicate to stop the dead rising, when you took Zoey away, we did not expect it, it left a gap, the dead saw that hunters were on the grounds, and did as they were expected, they rose and attacked, as did we, but being hunters ourselves and the original protectors this left a loophole, so we retained our minds… happy?”

“Almost.” Abaddon growled. “Who are you?”

“Chieftain Suladin, leader of one of the more prestigious tribes of desert nomads to have walked this earth, and first patriarch to be interred here and we are here to help.”

“Okaaay… right, I guess that makes… very little sense but what the hell, hop aboard, we need every sword arm we can get.”

The group of hunters, both living and decidedly not quite so living climbed aboard the cart and they set off to the tower.

After about a mile they had to stop and dig out chunks of dead people out of the wheels.



They arrived at the meeting point south of the tower shortly before sunrise, when they got there they saw a massive gathering of people: what seemed like hundreds of Cathulii warriors, local mercenaries, the hunters and guards from the village whose chieftain Abaddon had saved at this very place. And now Abaddon was here with his small cohort.

Abaddon and Ashura greeted the Cathulii chief, and the village chief before heading to set up a tent, get some food and a few hours sleep before the upcoming battle.

Armour scraped of chunks of flesh, and polished, Abaddon shouldered his Profusion, with his new sword sheathed at his side.

Everybody was assembled outside, standing in disciplined ranks ready for action, Abaddon walked to the front, loaded a magazine of pierce rounds into the magazine well, and yanked back the cocking lever.

Ashura tested the sharpness of his Supremacy Blade and found it satisfactory.

They made sure they had strapped on their armour’s plates properly, before whacking each other on the shoulder and waiting for the marshalling of troops to finish.

His ears filled with the sound of his heartbeat, the battle cries of warriors around him, and the long, slow, deliberate and haunting breathe of the undead warriors beside him, for the first time in a long time, Abaddon was scared.

Chapter 21

The army shipped out to march the last bit of distance to the tower, armed to the teeth and in a bloodlust – they were all ready for what was to come.

When they finally rounded the corner the fire on the top of the tower was still raging and stronger than ever, the entire structure was wreathed in flames.

The air was hot and full of the sound of beating wings, the clouds of wyverns almost blotted out the sun.

“Pleaaaase tell me that *bleep*er is not still forcing out sprogs, that’s the last thing we need… an army of Akant-lets.” Ashura moaned

“I doubt it.” Abaddon replied “ It’s backside would be the size of a mountain and if I’m not mistaken… it’s on the middle level of the tower staring us down.”

“How do you know these things?”

“Because I can see it looking at us through a hole in the wall.” Abaddon said pointing.

And true enough, the gleam of red eyes was shining out of the flames.

There was a shriek and a whooshing noise, far above them a group of Ratholos had spotted the mass of people below and was swooping down.

The various chieftains shouted orders, the army scattered and ran across the bridge and scattered themselves, others took up positions between rocks and in ditches, anywhere there was cover.

The sound of hundreds of arrows being pulled and bowguns being cocked filled the air.

Abaddon aimed his Profusion skyward, and started the attack by spewing a dozen pierce shots into the heavens. The surrounding hunters loosed their shots into the air, the Ratholos retaliated by spewing fire balls down.

Arrows burned in mid air, shots exploded into tiny shreds of metal, essentially turning bullets into flak.

The Ratholos flew straight into the flak and remaining shots, unable to manoeuvre quickly due to their momentum. At least six of them were torn to shreds in mid dive, the others pulled out and spewed more flames at the hunters.

The corpses crashed to the ground crushing a few warriors, the Ratholos that crashed ended up as broken things that could only be described as puddles of meat, scale, blood and bone.

More wyverns heard the battle and glided over.

Rathians alighted on the far side of the bridge and charged in all directions.
Abaddon reloaded and swung his gun’s barrel to face the new threat.

He sprayed bullets into the largest of them, the pierce rounds shredding their way through the scales and plates, their coats disintegrating steadily until only the cores remained lodged deep in the monster.

She screeched in pain at him, and spewed a sheet of flame in front of her as she barrelled through a line of swordsmen to get Abaddon.

He leapt onto her head and rolled down its back, jamming the long bayonet into the base of the Rathian’s tail.


He rolled over and gained some grip between plates, the Rathian tried to turn her head round to face him, but couldn’t turn it far enough to incinerate him with roasting her wings to boot.

She backflipped in an attempt to dislodge him. He hung on tight.

When it landed again he wrenched the cruel bayonet free, and stabbed it into the Rathians back further up, and dragged himself along its body, it flipped again, but lost altitude and fall heavily on it’s front. He withdrew and stabbed further up again, and continued this up to the base of its neck, streaked with blood he stabbed again, deeper, the Rathian’s legs fell out from under her, paralyzed.

Abaddon loaded a cluster shot, jumped down from the stricken wretch’s back and stabbed into its face and fired the explosive round into her nostril.

He ran.

The Rathian’s skull was strong, and held most of the resulting explosion, but out of the mouth, ears, eyes and nostrils spewed flames, boiling blood and roasted brain matter, fangs shot out as shrapnel and embedded themselves in the ground.

Abaddon got up and dusted himself off.

Coming in from the sky was a Garuga, with worrying amounts of pink fur that could only be from a Congalala scattered on its stomach and legs.

He scratched his chin in wonderment, then he took aim through Profusion’s scope and put a pierce round down its neck.

Abaddon grabbed his last magazine of pierce shots and slotted it in.

A pack of velociprey came charging out of the tower after having heard cries of their species in the battle outside.

A Ratholos was flying low, bathing the field in fire, Abaddon turned around and put a bullet in it, then jumped up and grabbed a hold of its leg while it recoiled its head in pain.

In a rush of fire and wind they flew over the bridge.

He sprayed bullets into the pack, stabbed the Ratholos in the gut then let go of the wyvern and plunged bayonet first straight onto the lead animal.

The landing was considerably more jolting than he had expected, the ‘prey that broke his fall fared a lot worse than he however, its legs were broken and the spines on Abaddon’s armour had stabbed straight into it.

With a whirl it was decapitated.

Abaddon twirled again and drew crimson lines in the air with the bayonet, he stabbed into the last ‘prey and looked back across the bridge.

Arrows and bullets were still filling the air, flames covering the ground, alongside bloody and broken wrecks that were once wyverns and indescribable piles of burnt meat that were once hunters.

Suladin was clinging onto the back of an Iodrome while attempting to twist its head off.

The Cathulii chief was hacking into a Garuga alongside his bodyguards.

All that could be seen of Ashura was a sweeping blade cutting into velociprey and wyverns sending spray upon spray of crimson into the sky.

For now it seemed that the battle was going in the favour of humanity – which needless to say made Abaddon feel a bit more relieved.

Then he turned around – the room in which the Akantor had been watching the battle had lost its glint of red eyes.

A Shakalaka leapt at Abaddon, he drew his sword in a wide arc and split it into two pieces – mid leap – in one movement.

He sheathed his sword and looked back towards the tower.

There was a rumbling, a part of the tower exploded outwards, and in a hail of rubble the Akantor dove to the ground.

It landed and shook the earth, it reared up on its hind legs and used its sonic blast to destroy the bridge before turning its attention to Abaddon himself.

It roared, its spikes erected themselves and its scales turned the colour of wildfire.

He was all alone on this side of the bridge, being faced with the most dangerous and pissed off pseudo-wyvern in the world.

Abaddon raised his Profusion.

He gulped.

Thanks guys.

Props to you if you've been around long enough to get the Garuga thing, if not I'll explain.

Chapter 22

He didn't stop to think, he rolled to the side and sprayed shots full auto at the hulking monolith he was faced with - most of the shots either glanced off its scales or were worn so thin that by the time they hit flesh the bullets were so small that they may as well have been pine needles stuck in the world's largest anvil.

The sound it made was similar to an amused grunt, it pounced.

Abaddon saw little else to do than try not to shit his well armoured pants and run and hide behind the nearest rock - so that he did.

As the Akantor dug its claws out of the ground he fired off some more potshots, but saw that they were pretty much useless.

He was loading a Crag shot when the Akantor turned her head and vaporised the rock he was behind with a blast of sonic power.

Abaddon was flung from his feet, Profusion sent spinning off somewhere. With stars going into supernovas in his retinas, ears ringing more than the Vatican on the day a Pope was elected he got to his feet and drew his sword.

It was standing there, just looking at him, staring down the prey, he was the deer caught in the headlights, he was already dead.

Then to just about everybodies surprise - Abaddon punched it on the nose. It was even more surprising when it recoiled.

Abaddon allowed himself a split second of sheer amazement before charging into the breach he had created, as it was getting up he jumped on its flat head - he ran up his back, trailing his sword along the Akantor's scales, leaving a path of sparks and frost behind him.

Still slightly dazed he threw an arm around one of her back spines and jammed his sword down between them as far as he could... about two inches.

He ripped his sword up, spraying steaming blood into the air. The Akantor roared and with near burst eardrums Abaddon noticed it was about to roll over and crush him under however many scores of tonnes of angry wyvern and spines, with that in mind he leapt down.

He was flying farther than he thought he would...
The Akantor had swatted him in mid air.
His ribs were broken.
Ah.
Crap.

He still had his sword, he had landed beside Profusion.
With all the agony in the world he picked up the gun and levelled it at the Akantor.

She was rearing up, sucking in masses of air for another sonic attack, it would be a tremendous deathblow.

He fired - the bullet stuck between some damaged scales in her shoulder - just wide of the Akantor's mouth. Then it exploded in a shower of gore and scales, the wyvern expelled its sonic blast in agony, but thankfully into the sky.

He didn't waste a second, Abaddon leapt up, regretting it and revelling in it at the same time and charged in.

He slashed into the dazed monolith's stomach, a gash opening wide and frost melting with the heat of the blood pouring out, he slashed more and more, not trying to wound lethally so as to create as many wounds as he could - he was hacking like a logger might hack at an enormous tree.
He was aiming to take chunks out of it - it was too shocked and agonized to do much more than scream into the air.
He cut, and cut, and cut - he had made a small cave, he slashed through its spine, and finally cut out the back.

Stepping out covered in gore, he admired his handiwork, and he knew just how to top it off.

He leapt onto the Akantor's back and climbed up until he stood on her neck.

He summoned all his misery, all his pain, all his strength and above all, his rage.

He raised his sword, and slammed it down, right through the skull and into the brain.

The entire upper half of the Akantor's body has so far been supported by the remaining flesh, and a few scales and plates. Combine a few dozen tonnes of weight with a well placed, and brutally powerful blow aimed downwards and you have a lot working against those few things.

The Akantor broke into two pieces, Abaddon rode the head down.

He was having trouble breathing, he was exhausted, he was bleeding and still dazed.

He decided to have a seat on the fallen beast's head while the remaining monsters were finished off, with the sword still in reach, and Profusion at his feet he promptly fell asleep.


This message was edited by Leviathen on Jul 28 2009.

Chapter 23

Abaddon awoke.

He stared up at the stars blearily.

He sat up, with a lot of cracking, due to dried blood and stiff joints, shook his head and looked around.

The army had set up a camp in front of the tower, the inferno was gone, it just stood there, blackened, but standing as ancient as time itself - pointing defiantly into the skies.

The Akantor was still lying in two pieces, in an inch thick lake of gore - leaking gently.

Somebody had pulled a load of water buckets up from the river in the canyon, Abaddon walked over to it, stripped to his underclothes and carefully washed his hands, face and armour. He unloaded and scrubbed Profusion clean.

He picked up his sword - dipped it into a bucket of water, which promptly froze.

"That's kinda annoying." He remarked. The ice melted again, and the blade's glow dimmed, in a kind of apologetic manner.

He cleaned it off, and left his equipment to dry.

Abaddon wandered around, found a tent that Ashura had erected for them, (judging by Ashura's favourite flag being draped over the entrance) Changed his clothes to something a little less blood caked and went out looking again.

He found the largest tent he had seen, short of a circus tent and stepped inside, warriors were all around.
They all turned to him and raised their glasses, flagons, skins and tankards to him and went back to the food and conversation.

Abaddon sat down next to the Cathulii Chief and Ashura and asked before anything else:

"How many did we lose?"

"Many, two hundred Cathulii, four undeads - the rest of whom went back to their... uhh... homes Suladin minus one arm - he took it with him though, forty six mercenaries and a bunch of others." Ashura answered - he seemed vaguely cheery despite the losses.

Abaddon grunted. He stayed and chatted for a while, discussing what to do next and when to do it, Ashura wanted to go back to the village, try to lead a more relaxing life there - The village wouldn't be without food or materials for armour, weapons and fortifications for a while.

Abaddon secretly disagreed, there was still one thing he needed to do, one last hunt, it burned in his mind like the flaming tower.

He bid his comrades goodnight and stepped outside and strode over to the hulking ruin of the Akantor.

He ripped plates, scales and spines from its corpse and flung them onto a large wheelbarrow along with various parts of other monsters, and entire Remobras.

He wheeled it to the crafter's tents and set to work.


The next morning Abaddon stepped out donned in a new set of unadorned black robes, reminiscent of his previous ones.

Holding a new scythe, slimmer, sharper than the one before, blacker than night, with a blade as long as Abaddon's arm, Elegant and beautiful.

He gathered up the rest of his equipment and started to pack up.

Food rations, water canteens, couple of whetstones, various bandoleers of shots for Profusion, Bowgun maintenance kit, clothes repair kit, medical items and a few other random things.

He loaded Profusion, slung the scythe diagonally across his back and put the rucksack over that before he put his hood up.

Abaddon sought out Ashura and explained.

He explained that he would go to hunt down the last person on the list, that he might not make it back, that he would be leaving his sword and armour for Ashura to do with as he saw fit and lastly what he wanted Ashura to do.

He nodded towards the Cathulii Zoey lookalike which Ashura had since learned was called Christina.

"Look after her, that's all I really ask, and as much as I would love to bring you for this, I need her to be protected. Do you understand?" He said.

Ashura nodded, looked to the side - and launched himself at Abaddon.

He almost stabbed Ashura in the neck, old habits die hard - but then he realised Ashura was just bearhugging him.

Abaddon embraced him for a short time before letting him go, and saying goodbyes to him.

He said goodbye to the Chief and Christina. The latter being a tearful affair, surprisingly on both sides.

At last, taking a last look at the camp and at the Tower he set off towards Kokoto.

For one final hunt.






This is the end of No Rest For The Wicked, it has been an incredible thing for me, it is the first thing I have ever written from beginning to end and it has been a wonderful way to spend my time, I wrote for fun or just to vent my feelings. Abaddon was based off a lot of negative feelings I have from long before right up to around the middle and a little after this story, mixed in a little of some of my favorite characters from other things to get the image right in my mind, slapped some of what I believe to be my own personality on him and then formed him. Ashura was a character that was invented by The_Kushala_Kid, and an awesome guy he turned out to be. Amy... ahh dear old Amy... well suffice to say I knew a real bitch when I made her up.
The story is being continued (Currently in Zazomy's Minegarde's Campfire which is yet to be finished and in later stories that I will write, fairly soon), and there will also be a prologue so everybody can see how Abaddon got to where he was in this story. Zoey in a very loose sense is based yet again off another person in my life but I'm not going into that, this is too long winded as is.



Epilogue facts:


Abaddon set off to hunt Matt, who he finds in Osmancos, after a great deal of searching.
Ashura went back with the Cathulii to the village where they lived, where a wall made entirely of enormous monster bones was erected, with the Akantor's skull and ribs as the gateway.
Christina gave birth to Daniel Wotanchilde who would later be known as Sephyr, Ashura will be his mentor and teacher, along with a few other people.
The Hunter's Guild, after the Massacre at Schrade, was in complete turmoil, but at the end was reformed, as a greater entity, with much less by ways of corruption and autocracy.
Wyverns, after the battle at the tower were not as commonly seen as before, but after a few years their numbers were too back to normal.

The Chronicles Of Destruction shall be continued in Judgement.

Now for a rather long Thanks to list:

Zazomy, for writing a continuation of this, and being an inspiration, and almost a co writer to this.
Steve, Johnny and Rowan for being the best friends and mentors a guy could ask for.
My parents thanks for giving birth to me (God help you).
To my Auntie, for being yet another good friend to me.
And to many others for various reasons.
Lastly to God, for putting all of these people on this Earth to make it a better place, and to make this story come to life.
This was dedicated to you all.

I hope you all enjoyed this and will read my later works.

The End.