3.

Crimson-gold lances of fire seared the air as they streaked soundlessly to burn away hellspawn. Wicked creatures burned in the holy light as Erak led his flock around a corner and saw death and destruction as the army held the line. Burnt bodies turned into blackened charcoal beneath the blasts of weapon fires. A line of blue uniformed soldiers knelt, holding rifles as they kept up withering fire.

Erak stopped and cocked his head as he looked at their weapons. They were different, not the same bulky weapons of war they should have been. They were now sleek pieces of art, nestled to the shoulders of the soldiers, they spat death without the explosion of gunpowder and fiery lead.

Essence Caster

Common

Not a rifle, but a caster. Similar to how so much of the museum had changed. Erak lifted his spear up and the soldiers stopped firing for a moment as the last wave of weak hellspawn was pushed back. The crowd behind him pushed forward, eager to see the familiar uniforms and the safety they offered. Erak let the press carry him forwards and toward the line of defenders.

“Sir, sir! Look at his armor! And spear!”

“Rare! Even Captain Denoy’s sword is Uncommon.”

“Someone go and find Professor Rutledge!”

Their words were harmless and skated over him as he walked by. He had looted the museum when the gates had opened and the words appeared before him. He needed the greatest tools at hand to complete his goals. The continual tug in his gut was a constant reminder to his oaths and the pull of his Queen.

A commisar came running up, the black tunic with scarlet striping making him stand out as his flushed red face trembled with rage. Sweat slick with pig thick lips he sprayed spittle as he screamed questions, shoving and battering about the soldiers to know why they had stopped shooting.

“What is the meaning of this?! Sergeant, were you given permission to cease firing? Where is the officer for this detachment?”

“Ees o’er der,” a soldier drawled without looking up, pointing to a pile of corpses entangled with each other. Hellspawn and soldiers resting at ease with each other. Erak nodded his respect to the dead and passed by the commissar without bothering the smaller man.

“YOU!” a finger was jabbed against the armor and the man quickly pulled it back, grimacing even as the pudgy man wheeled himself in front of Erak.

“What is your name and rank?” Erak stared through the visor’s slit at the commissar before slamming the spear down and into the stone. Stone split with a resounding crack. Erak fished in the crack between his gorget and breastplate, his fingers clumsy with the steel.

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Sighing in annoyance, he tugged the heavy gauntlet off, having to take off two different straps, before sending a nude finger down to the fine chain that rested against his chest. Pulling it free Erak enjoyed the look of fear that blossomed like bombs in the commissar’s eyes as he stared at the dangling ring.

“My apologies sir, right this way. Colonel Gressen is in command of the square. I will lead you there,” he spoke quickly, bowing his head and keeping his eyes locked on the ground.

Erak pulled the gauntlet back on slowly before grabbing his spear free of the stone and following the sweaty little man. He shed civilians like a duck did water, they flowed and were led away toward the center of the square while the commissar led him toward a squat building to the side. Rings of soldiers sat around or stood at the edges of the building.

Bright plumage of officer dress uniforms. Sabers and other former ceremonial weapons were now brandished about. Stared at. Gawked at. All eyes turned toward him as he moved toward them, their ranks parting to allow him to walk by.

“Rare?”

“Who is he?”

“Look at Gunroy’s face. He’s shitting himself.”

“He’s big as a fucking house!”

The doors were pulled open, a wide eyed boy staring at him. Erak looked at his uniform and saw the lack of epaulets, he was just a squire. Today of all days, children were forced to take the duties of adults. This child stood tall and without fear, though awe ravaged his stony countenance, eroding the image of strength.

“Colonel! Colonel! Someone get me the Colonel,” Gunroy screamed about, kicking down at the junior officers who were scattered about, working desperately. Erak peered about for a moment and then reached and tugged the heavy helm free of his head.

Fresh air flooded over his face bringing with it the undisguised scents of fear and anxiety. Dozens of junior staff officers had frozen where they were, looking at him with a wide gamut of expressions. A single iron grayed man stood in the center of the chaos like a boulder in a storm. He spun slowly, contempt dripping from his face as he stared at the commissar.

“Yes, Gunroy?”

“An Iron Ring bearer, sir,” the commissar babbled, his words running thick as honey. He waved a pudgy hand at Erak and every eye quickly shifted to look at the ground except for the Colonel.

“What can I do for a bearer of the Emperor’s will?” the Colonel asked slowly.

Erak leaned his spear against a desk, laying his helm next to it. Then the shield was finally lowered and he worked the straps that kept his gauntlets secure. It took him some few moments but both heavy, clumsy, thick steel gauntlets were laid on the desk with a heavy thump.

He turned to meet the Colonel’s unyielding blue eyed gaze. His eyes were tired, the events of the last hours having aged him in ways that should have been impossible. Erak quickly signed his needs, fingers flashing through the complex sign language with a graceful fluidity that belied his size.

The Colonel stared at him with uncomprehending befuddlement for a moment before throwing his head back and roaring with laughter that shook the room. Erak waited for the military man to get it out of his system.

“Oh that is rich, the voice of the Emperor is mute. Irony will never cease to amaze me.” Gressen wiped at a tear at the corner of his eye before sighing loudly. He looked around at his trembling officers, who stood bracing themselves for an explosion of tempestuous rage. Erak cared not what those laughed about when it was in regards to him. He had lived through worse.

“What are you dumb lunks doing? Go and find me someone who can interpret sign language. Go find one of the professors, one of them must know it!”