Thread: Meet the Author [Goody + incendo]

Here was where it ended. Finally, the ages old struggle between good and evil would see the Light triumph. Holding his sword, Claw, in a strong grip, Mahon faced off against the most vile, malevolent being in all the land of Pas the Demon Lord, Gammon. For years, he'd been battling the armies of darkness to reach this fortress, to stand here in this spot, for the satisfaction of looking the insane tyrant in the eye. Gammon's were yellow and black now, irises glowing with a golden, predatory gleam...but they hadn't always. Mahon remembered a time when his brother's eyes were green and human, like his own. All traces of that young, spirited man were gone, buried beneath layers of corded muscle, covered with twisted, spiked black armor and robes of blood red. There was nothing left to mourn of the young man he used to know, as Gammon cackled spitefully at the heroic warrior facing off against him. And truly, Mahon was done mourning. His family had fallen to the previous tyrant, mother and sister killed, brother and father enslaved. Then as Gammon grew up, moving from slavery to become apprentice to the dark king, eventually filling his shoes once the great Master, Death, had taken him, becoming even more evil than his predecessor, he'd sent his demonic, monstrous hordes to silence any oppression within the continent, obliterating light wherever he found it. Mahon's woman, the sweet Lily, and the son she'd bore him, had been consumed by the hideous monster warriors in Gammon's armies, when they came tearing through the peaceful countryside, renting the land. Their village had been gutted, burned to the ground, blood of the innocents soaking the earth and Mahon was left alone having missed his opportunity to protect the ones he loved the most. There was no one left in the world that he cared about. And guilt for being alive amidst all the carnage definitely made him an enemy to himself when it came to the desire to live. The only thing that kept him going was the feast of promised vengeance. The only thing left to define him was pure hate. His destiny, becoming a monster, created by the demon lord, in order to fulfill his grand desire to destroy the evil tyrant. It ends now, Mahon growled in a deep, rugged voice, glowering through the arched noseguard on his helmet. Gammon laughed in a silken voice, flashing a charming smile, made sanguine by the pronounced canines. My brother... It's only begun. Join me. Rule by my side. All nations will fall under the bootheels of our armies. Never! Mahon roared, a grimace of rage distorting his features as he tensed and charged across the throne room. Just then, blue and white light pulsed into the room, a vibrant, electric blossom, vibrating and flexing in the air beside them. Wind from nowhere tossed Gammon's cloak and Mahon turned to face the strange light bloom , shielding his eyes from the brightness of its fires. What have you done? Gammon asked in guttural horror, glaring balefully at the flowering blue and white tunnel individual hovering in his throne room. What strange magic is this? Mahon turned to look at his brother, blinking in confusion. Him? This...this wasn't Gammon's sorcery? In all his years of training and killing men and monsters in battles, Mahon had not once touched any of the mystical arts. He fucking hated magic, all kinds, Light and Dark. And he'd certainly seen enough of the Dark to know how it could corrupt men's souls, how it changed them, infecting their very core. He didn't get a chance to refute blame for the sudden appearance of the magic now present in the room with them before a crack and sizzle like thunder hitting ground sounded from the electric tunnel behind him. Mahon held up his arm, blinking and squinting at the spiraling light tunnel as it increased the speed at which it blossomed and flexed, wind dragging at his heavy armored body. Mahon struggled to keep his feet from sliding across the gleaming black floor but it was futile, his leather boots scraping softly as he was pulled towards the vortex of light. The thought to run occurred to him a second too late, his feet yanked from the ground as the rest of him was pulled violently into the air, barreling straight for the swirling light. All around him, light surrounded him. When it wasn't a blinding show of color, blues, indigos, and aqua greens, he could see that the light blossom was a tunnel, rounded edges giving the feel of a cloud-like form to his surroundings, even as he fell through it, sliding up, down, and around curves at impossible speeds. A sound behind him caused him to look over his shoulder, only to find Gammon floating behind him. From the feral insanity in his brother's eyes, Mahon could guess that the same force that had pulled him through had also captured Gammon against his will, the arrogant Demon King just as vulnerable to the whims of the magic that now carried them. Gammon let out one last guttural growl before suddenly, as Mahon watched, the demon lord was shoved violently sideways, through the ethereal cloud wall. Mahon blinked, swallowing his heart to watch his foe disappear to some unknown place, vengeance stolen from him. A shout of rage and despair tore through his throat as a second later, he felt himself burst from the lighted magic vortex. It was like...waking up. Blinking his eyes, sunlight dappling his face through huge trees with low swooping branches, and strange foliage draped over them , Mahon slowly sat up with a soft grunt. His head was pounding but he pushed it aside, especially as he looked around and realized...this was not Pas. At least, not any location he had as of yet journeyed to. The light blossom... Had it been some sort magical pathway of some kind? Where had it taken him? And...where was Gammon? Fierce green eyes searched the lush green lawn, looking between the strange trees for some sign of his evil brother. When he found none, he didn't relax. Gammon was cunning. If he were transported to this same place, it wouldn't take long for the demon lord to start working his magic to build his armies of abominations again. Mahon had been so close! He needed to find him and stop him before it was too late. Which, begged the question if it hadn't been magic unleashed by Gammon in order to escape, then who or what had done such a thing? For what purpose had he been brought here? Standing from the odd metal bench he'd been laying, Mahon frowned in either direction, glancing down as his boots crinkled and scuffed over a path of pretty tan stones. Was he in the garden of some palace? The lawn was lush and vibrantly green, too well tended to be wild countryside. That was when Mahon became aware of some sort of music, wavering unevenly on the air through the trees. Turning in that direction, he followed it with resolute purpose, not bothering to sheath his sword until he knew more of this strange kingdom and it's artful magic tunnels. The closer he got to the source of the music, the more tension seeped into Mahon's bones and muscles. The country gardens he traversed soon disappeared, revealing a road of some kind, yet it and the carriages which populated it were unlike any he'd ever seen. Smooth gravel, black as night in the shining sun, went in a straight line from right to left before him. And upon it rumbled armored carriages, people sitting inside them directing them as if by magic, without a creature or horse in sight to pull them. As each one passed with deep thunder in its belly, Mahon tensed, glaring after them in paranoid horror. As soon as he'd left the cover of the trees, Mahon had begun to sweat under the heavy glare of the sun, his face and hair dripping under his shining helmet. Slipping it off of his head, Mahon rubbed the sweat from his brow with the back of his steel gauntlet, interrupted as another thunderous sound came from above. Looking up with a penetrating glare , Mahon found himself shocked again as he watched the small, white form speed across the soggy heat of the bright blue sky. The roar that came from it was chilling and Mahon stood his ground, even as his breathing picked up with the realization of the creatures this land possessed. Dragon... he muttered with an exhale of dread. Pas no longer possessed such large creatures of unbelievable intelligence and magic, having killed them ages ago. Legends and songs were the only evidence of them now, and Mahon felt both a secret terror and exhilarating daring to know such beasts roamed this land freely. Looking around, the carriages never stopped, nor did the people who walked alongside the road stop to look at the gorgeous beast that cried out above them, smalled by distance it was so high up. Did dragons not eat people here? Looking across the traffic of the road at the buildings on the other side, once again, Mahon found himself drawn to the music that spilled from the open doors. Replacing his helmet on his head, Mahon walked out into the black road, his eyes on the open doorway, so much so, that when one of the rumbling magic-propelled carriages came barreling towards him, it was forced to halt with a sharp screeching of its wheels. The occupants exclaimed and gruffly rebuked him, but Mahon had sense enough to realize he was not well versed in how the road worked. He'd seen plenty of others pass over it with no problem, so, he wasn't sure why he should be chided so roughly. Maybe something about his armor made him hard for the magic carriages to see? He noticed, nobody else wore any, all of them in unfamiliar clothes besides. Did this city not have any soldiers? How did they protect themselves? It didn't make any sense. Unless...the dragon protected them? They were supposedly just as wise as they were ferocious according to the tales. Still wondering about this, Mahon walked up to the open doorway, entering the shaded establishment. Some part of him delighted in understanding as he took in the bar and tables placed around the open tiled floor. Of course! A tavern. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before, and he couldn't discern where the minstrel was, but it at least was familiar with the barkeep behind the long, curved counter, and the patrons sitting about enjoying food and drink together. Walking up to the bar, Mahon patted his shield arm on the bartop, waiting with a patient, surly frown for the man to come to him, as he continued to search for the bard that sounded so close, singing songs of esoteric meaning with strange, coaxing beats. What can I get ya, pal? the barkeep asked him in an unfamiliar accent, looking him up and down with curious interest. You in some sort of Renaissance Faire? Mahon narrowed his eyes at the man but shook his head dismissively. I do not know what that is, he said gruffly. I'm looking for my brother, the Demon Lord, Gammon. Have you seen him? The barkeep snorted softly and shook his head. Okay buddy. Save it for the stage. Can I get you anything? You will tell me what you know, Mahon said, lowering his voice, glowering menacingly at the man . You are all in danger if my brother is loose in this city. It won't take him long to amass his army of demons and-- Seriously, the barkeep interrupted with a belabored sigh. If you're not going to order anything, I'm gonna ask you to leave. Go peddle this act somewhere else. It is not an act! Mahon growled angrily, stepping back to raise his sword. I am no entertainer, you Light-dulled fool! I will have my vengeance against my brother and you will tell me what I want to know! Easy! Take it outside, King Arthur! the barkeep chided him lazily, waving a hand at him to try to calm him down. I don't wanna go see your play. I am not an actor! Mahon roared furiously, incensed by the bizarre confusion of him being some sort of minstrel himself. Enraged, he stepped back and raised his sword, slamming it upon the bar, Claw, the deathly sharp blade biting through the bar all the way down to knee height. Wrenching it free in an explosion of splinters, the barkeep having jumped back several feet, blinking at him in astonishment, Mahon grimaced in savage aggression. Where is Gammon, you fool?! Behind him, shocked patrons cowered, some even dashing for the doors, screaming in terror.