Arrival (4)
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This fissure city was, in a word, a very dangerous idea. Not just because of potential outside threats and what not, but it was more so because of its design.
I only realized that thanks to Oliver, who had just casually scaled a few two-story buildings and used his flames to propel himself off a water tank, all to give me a view that would probably just terrify most children.
We were now dozens of feet in the air, just barely high enough to peek over the Brimwell. Whilst still airborne, I finally got a brief glimpse of what laid on the other side of the large wooden wheel.
The entire front end of this mountain was missing, or perhaps ‘destroyed’ was a better way to describe it. The destruction had left nothing but a crude, triangular shaped ‘fissure’ that must have disrupted the streams that once flowed within the mountain.
The Brimwell was at the center of the raging torrent, it was the sole bastion standing between what remained of Fallon’s streets and a sudden flash flood.
Rather than cleaving through the mountain, it now looked as if it was a simple, massive cog trying to keep this entire thing from falling apart.
As for the rest of the city, the term ‘remnants’ seemed more than fitting for what little remained of Fallon. Which in fact were nothing more than two small forts; both well past their prime, on each end of the ‘V’ shaped divide.
They clung to the northernmost ends of the V-shaped structure that extended only a few hundred feet. The two forts were both relatively small, which is why they were perfect for the post since the mountain’s modest size could barely fit anything else on its narrowed surface.
Whatever had ‘broken’ this mountain, had inadvertently formed an artificial waterfall, one that had no plunge pool at its base so the torrent of water being redirected by the Brimwell was eroding the surrounding terrain.
Countless years of this cycle must have been what formed the makeshift ravine that extended into what must have been elven lands.
“Tch!” grunted Oliver after pulling off our rather poised landing
“Looks like someone’s still got it....” A snarky comment like that would have usually come from Flynn or one of the others but apparently, that wasn’t the case this time.
“Long time no see huh? Well, maybe not so much for the rest of you but it sure has been a while - Oliver, Julia.”
A middle-aged man with a physique that seemed similar to both Oliver and Flynn’s was approaching us all whilst dishing out a leisurely overhead wave as he weaved through the oncoming crowds.
He looked to be the oldest member of the ember fangs, with neatly cut blue hair that fanned out like a parasol and clean-shaven sideburns growing down to meet his slightly unkempt beard.
With each step, the saber at his side dangled incessantly in rhythm with his footsteps and as soon as he was close enough, my startled gaze was abruptly torn away from his sunken smile. Instead, my eyes chose to focus on his empty sleeve flailing around in the wind.
It was the spot where his left arm should have been.
“I suppose the last five years really did whoosh us by. A lot’s changed since then, Allen, but it's still good to see you.” Julia answered, giving him a gentle bow in the process.
“As expected of a druid, your sense of time is still that far gone.” He chuckled slightly as he exchanged a handshake with my father.
“Doesn’t look like any of us have changed very much though, old friend.”
“I’d say you’ve changed plenty. Isn’t that your son?”
Registering my cue, I acted swiftly.
“Nice to meet you, my name is Liam.”
He stared at me for a while, then couched down to peer at my face with his only arm being left to caress his stubby beard.
A coordinated sigh came from my parents.
“Don’t say it, we know the resemblance isn’t all that striking yet.” Pressed Julia as she emphasized the last word.
Sensing the danger that lurked behind her dubious smile, Allen decided to pursue it no further.
“R-right, well anyway, I'm glad I finally get to meet you Liam. Betcha haven’t seen anyone this banged up before huh?” He jeered, laughing at his own plight.
“Your arm...can’t you fix it with healing magic?” I questioned sincerely
“If only healing magic was that convenient kid, it doesn’t work like that. The Irregular that did this refused to go down without a fight, and we didn’t plan on losing either so something like this was bound to happen. But hey, we won so at least I got a cool story from it.” He shrugged with an expression caught somewhere between a grimace and a grin.
Giving in to the impulse, my mouth carelessly set my next sentence loose.
“Do you....mind sharing it with me sometime?”
“Ah....I’ve changed my mind Liam, you do sort of remind me of your parents, in a quirky sort of way. Alright, you're on, the drinks are on me!” His declaration was rather fierce, and the deal was cemented with my very first ‘fist pump’.
“By ‘drinks’ you do mean orange juice or something like that, right?” Julia raised a twitching brow; her tone was only half-joking, but that question still sent a chill through the air.
“O-of course that’s what I meant, right Oliver?”
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“Naturally.” He replied without hesitation, cleverly aiming to kill the tension.
“Oh? Well then in that case you can give it a go~”
That shift in tonality was way too sudden.
“KRIIIIIEKKKKK!!!”
A roar echoed through the skies. I looked towards the fading sun only to see what resembled a flying flock of reptiles leisurely circling above our heads. Their pattern, although repetitive was extremely well coordinated.
Ever so often, they would take turns switching positions to swoop down to the top of the Brimwell and indulge in a drink of the dazzling water being propelled up the large water wheel.
“Ahh.....you still had that many wyverns left?” Flynn mused as he shielded his face from the evening’s fading glow.
“You know Allen...” Jytte began, her voice loosening. “A few of those would have really helped us save some time with the whole trip to Zale......and with the climb too.... whoever’s up there now must have it good”
Myra nodded in agreement, looks like she wasn’t too fond of the climb up the mountain either.
“Your eyesight never falters, does it? Sorry but we just can’t right now. We’re using them to transport our healers around and if worse comes to worst – evacuation. I know you’ll need them for the drop off in Sylvan, but as of right now we just don’t have much to spare.”
“Then we better finish this up quick huh? From the looks of it, even the lords have fled from this place.” Oliver remarked as his eyes continued to scan the desolate surroundings.
“They have. The residents started fleeing from this place ever since the city of Tiran fell a month ago. Most of the civilians you saw on your way here came from Tiran, they made the journey by foot and as I'm sure you can guess....this place wasn’t exactly the haven they were hoping for.”
“What a disappointment that must have been.” Myra muttered indignantly
“It's what you’d expect, I mean, we all know Sylvan is technically off limits for us.” Flynn added solemnly
Julias smile crumpled after hearing that, her lips could barely keep the crevices from forming.
“There were a few other high-leveled raiders around at the start of all this, but, as soon as the irregular showed up our numbers started to fall drastically. Once the lords saw that, they fled this place before we could even regroup. Since I’ve been here the longest, the role of authority just sort of got passed down to me since no one was willing to stick with it for too long.”
“If they have you in charge here then the situation must really be dire.”
“......Thanks for the compliment, Flynn.” He responded, sarcastically of course.
“Don’t worry, it was genuine. But anyway......” Flynn continued
“How’s our backup looking? Minus those scrubs that just came in of course, I’m not expecting much from them. Is there anyone else here that can put up a fight?”
“Well-”
“RAAAAGH!!!” A crackle split the air.
Usually, that would have been fine since there were currently wyverns circling above us, however, that particular shrill sound was getting louder by the second as if to signal that something was getting dangerously close.
The tension around us peaked, and no sooner than it did had Jytte unsheathed the recurve bow previously strung across her back. In less than two seconds, three metal looking arrows had already been nocked in the twanging bowstring.
Her eyes sharpened as they followed the flock of Wyverns now dive bombing like a swarm of vengeful shadows.
She pulled back her fingers and muttered softly - “Enchant”
As soon as her aura enveloped the bow, the nocked iron spikes slipped through her grip at a near untraceable speed, whistling through the air with deadly precision.
Then, muffled groans rang out before a gargantuan mass of hardened scales came falling from the skies. After that swift, triple pronged headshot, the wyvern strayed off target by a considerable margin and careened into the broken path behind us.
“Not bad Jytte, that’s a solid eight points, but....” Flynn paused briefly, casually twirling the double-edged lance with a flick of his wrist.
Perhaps Jytte’s latest move had sparked a desire for vengeance within the rest of the flapping flock, because another one of the scaled vipers was continuing the assault with its wings cocked as it charged in from the side.
The metal pronged lance clanked against the earth as soon as Flynn swung it overhead. The second it hit the ground; a tile-shaped earthen slab sprang up with the vigor of a spring-loaded trap. It lingered in the air, swirling slightly before -
Wham!!!
Came the impact that echoed as soon as Flynn launched his newfound projectile towards its target with a furious swing. The large lizard wailed from the sensation of hard stone crumbling against its snout, it swerved and swayed in mid-air before crash landing through the roof of a supposedly abandoned home.
“....it lacked oomph; you need a bit more style.”
“Shut up! I got it done!” she retorted angrily
“You pass.”
That last voice came from above, it sounded blunt and oppressive amidst the subtle tension in the air. Remarkably, the speaker made his entrance just as the night began to drape the world in its dark mantle.
The final wyvern landed softly with a dull sound, perking up its neck to scour its surroundings with a split-pupil gaze, sharp and alert. Its amber colored scales gleamed in the dim moonlight peeking through the clouds.
Perhaps it was because its scales were reflecting the moonlight back onto its pilot that made his entrance seem so over-the-top. His face, and more notably his weapon was very familiar. It was the axe-wielding brute I'd seen at the gates a little while ago.
In that short span of time, he seemed to have found some sort of authoritative bearing in this place.
“A bit much for a greeting, no?” Myra asked menacingly
“A Faerie, is it? Haven’t seen one of those in a while.”
Myra’s eyes subtly glowed with a silent hint of fury, if not for the intervention of Flynn and the others she might have ended up doing something uncalled for.
“Who are you? Depending on your answer this may not end well for you.” Flynn glared at the figure pompously standing before the four-meter monster.
“Aryan Freed, was it? I knew you looked familiar, he’s a raider form the capital, a pretty famous one at that too. Apparently, he’s racked up quite record over the past few years, being a part of all the major dungeon raids in Ekin and all. ” Allen muttered dubiously as he stared at the man basking in the scene of his own glory.
Aryan nodded in delight, forming a thin smirk to show his approval.
“Looks like my name’s even made it all the way out here. Heh-good, good, this is even better than I expected! Now once I wrap things up here, I’m bound to go back up the totem pole.” He snickered playfully, using his scarred hand to half-heartedly mask the conniving expression on his face.
“I see. Reputation aside, I'm sure we all have our own reasons for being here, as long as he’s willing to help then that’s fine by me. You there, Aryan, what level are you at?” Oliver asked with a hardened gaze.
“How presumptuous.”
Leaping off his mount, he landed with no hint of grace whatsoever. The fingers on his right hand loosened, revealing his open palm marked with the bold number ‘three’.