Hammer and Steel

Caparin's Tale in the Deep Roads, part 5






Strange Things All About







"Now, I will tell you for the last time Dacha, get away from him."

"Shut your fat mouth Tarlin. You are not the boss of me, nor the leader. My scouts found him, not yours, and I answer only to Garrin."

"Garrin has not returned in three turns, and he left me in control until he returned. Specified in the code, we are supposed to follow his orders-"

A thin yelp could be heard faintly as Caparin struggled to remain concious in a sea of black that tried to overwhelm and sweep over him. Bile could be tasted in the back of his throat, and something crusty and brittle could be felt as a long line down his face pulsed over and over and over again. He could feel bruises and sharp pains farther along down his chest, but his right leg hurt the most with white hot pain coming off of it. Caparin merely gritted his teeth and kept on listening.

"Dacha...." a sniffle. "You are supposed to be following my orders!"

"Stop being petulent you pathetic squirt. We have to question him and how he found the Vault up above."

"He stumbled into it plainly enough, we can just use the Violet Spice to remove what he knows." Another sniffle, wet and sharp.

"We could," said the other person. "But at the same time we need to be sure. Which spice did you give him?"

"Black."

A sound of flesh hitting flesh and a sharp crack could be heard as a sharper yelp echoed out. "Dachas, why in the thirty three hells did you do that?"

"Black spice. Why did you give it to him?"

"Brings people back to the real world faster than other spices, and the peppers are especially fine. They heal injuries after all!"

"It would have been better to leave him under for a few days then interrogate him. Did you even think before you did that?"

"Why yes I did. Your men were not very gentle with him. He was dropped into a pit, and they sure took their sweet, everlasting time getting to him."

"Yulara, I'm going to skin and flay the lot of them alive. You stay here with the traveler, and I will go speak to them." The sound of heavy boots tramping off could be heard, thick leather slapping at the floor repeatedly.

Come on Caparin, stay awake. You can do this. Open your eyes, come on, come on, come on. He cracked his eyes open barely. There we go, just a little more, and finally I can wake up. Maybe they can give me some food and water. His lips were chapped and his throat dry, and just as he was thinking to himself, his stomach rumbled in a quaking manner. The thought of food filled his entire mind now as his dry tongue flicked across his lips.

"Always leave me with the dirty work don't you Dacha." A guttural curse filled the air as the creature that paced around the room spat on the floor. "'Slar do this, Slar do that, I'm tired of taking the horsehockye that you stack upon me. I'm not a thrall for the sake of the thirty three gods, I'm a leader and a strong man."

A testy clicking like someon'es tongue flicking against their teeth and against the roof of their mouth. "He has nothing to throw against me while I hold everything. Once Garrin gets back he'll put Dachas in his place most certainly, yes, yes, yesh he will."

Caparin cracked his eyes open further, wincing in pain. Bruises surrounded his eyes and over much of his face, the sharpness added onto by the bright blue fame that hung in the air in the brazier. Two more braziers could be seen in his peripheral vision as he squinted, his eyes slowly adjusting.

As he slowly began to regain feeling in much of his limbs, he could feel the cold stone underneath him. Wonderful. Just wonderful. At the very least it was smooth.

Caparin dragged his head up slowly, bright lights and stars still lighting up in front of his eyes. He turned his head left, then right. Where was that man?

"Ah, so you are awake."

Caparin turned around to stare in the other occupant's face. He passed out again.


"Lords of the Deep and Lords of the Dark, Maidens of the Light and the Maidens of the Pool, Crones that light our paths with the lanterns that they wield, and Ladies that bestow upon us all the blessings that flow forth from their favor to mortal creatures. For in the dark, we are all brothers, all friends, men who are hid by shadow and are held in the spell of fraternity. For indeed we all are brothers in the dark, compatriots and comrades that shall march to the edges of the world until it cracks and falls away into the next."

The booming notes of the preach that rose and fell from outside of the window could be easily heard clearly and precisely. No longer did Caparin here the other tongue that had been used by these creatures before.

It had easily awoken him as he lay on the stone bench, hands clasped around a sword. His thin scratchs and wounds that had covered his face and body had been sealed up with gauze and a bowl of black peppers had been provided, seemingly in case if he got hungry as well as a jug of water.

"And lo, the ones that came from the Deep were repulsed by the guardians, men and soldiers that had been consigned to the deep long ago to try and stop them from regaining ground. We must keep them back, and we must do our duty and out task left to us by the Predecessors and the Ones Who Came Before on the Highmount Peak. So says the gods, and so says the texts of old."

"So says the texts of old," a thundering cry rang out in unision. Thousands must be gathered outside, although Caparin could not make out their features. Thousands of blue torches that flickered and guttered, casting a pallid and unearthly light over the city were everywhere.

"We have done much and we shall do more to prevent the world from falling into darkness, or plunging into the destruction by fire. For the silver hammer that strikes the hot steel shall hammer out a new future, one that shall be carved in peace and love instead of blood and blades. We can hope and we can pray. Only the gods can do what we wish to happen."

"For after all, we have served them faithfully and fully ever since the Purging in the long last ages of time and the futility that we felt when we were forced to witness and we were told and forced to observe what would happen if we did allow the beasts to rise again and take the hearts and minds of men and women alike and lead them to the roads that have no end with silken promises and fine words."

"For we are the sons of the forgotten people that once called us brothers, sisters, friends and elsewise. We are the ones that shall do our task as it was given to us and we shall not stand aside and allow this darkness to sweep across the land."

Caparin sighed. He had a front row seat to this religious dogma, and he did not really care much for it. He'd only been able to tolerate little bits of what the priests would tell in their sermons as the village gathered in communion time.

"Think it's boring as well?"

A thin chill crept up Caparin's spine as he slowly rose from the bench and looked at the visitor. The same person that had been in here before was here again.

"Something the matter?"

The person that stood in the doorway was like a man, yet he wasn't. The features of an average person, a thin stubble growin along his chin, but the skin around his eyes was off. To be specific; it was a dark, blackish color in swirling patterns that crept into what would have been the whites of his eyes and wrapped around the crimson colored part of the main eye that gazed at Caparin questioningly as long strands of white hair fell into his face.

"Something the matter?" The other man said again as his lips curled up to reveal sharp teeth like a wild animal. "Hungry?"

Caparin shook his head slowly from side to side. At least this wasn't as bad as seeing his own corpse.

Sorry for not updating sooner, as several things previously cropped up and got in the way. Hope you enjoy this section and I will put out the next portion of A Mad King storyline as soon as I can.

Till then, enjoy!

you update so often, don't worry.

Yeah, with all your updates, no problem. Just don't become a Yoshi!

SamSniped said:

Just don't become a Yoshi!

Click to expand...

, that will never happen to me. Not to be mean to you, Yoshi, of course.

I believe the correct saying is "Don't become a Sisutil." If that happened to this story...

THAT would be a sign of the Parrots

MoreEpicThanYou said:

I believe the correct saying is "Don't become a Sisutil." If that happened to this story...

Click to expand...

In regards to that, I want to be like Sisutil very much so... except for the several year vanishing act. Unless death, serious medical injury, or something else occurs, I will be around.

A Mad King, part 7



Meetings and Questions



"You said what happened here?" The Englishman was puzzled and confused. "What exactly happened."

Ulysses sat across the table from him, his finger dipping into the whorl in the wood and tracing the thick lines that ran down the body of the piece of furniture. His tired blue eyes and peppered hair gave him a look that he was older than he really was. "We were attacked by... something down there, we don't know what, and we are not going to go back down there to check it out anytime soon. We lost over senventy men, and we burned the corpses and sealed up the underground entrance... but...."

"But what?"

"We had two scouting/hunting parties sent out once we left to replenish our food supplies. We had lost a lot of it in the attack and we were desperate for food." Ulysses steepled his fingers and looked at Edward and his golden eyes. "We found the remains of the first one, torn to pieces two miles outside of camp. The second one... we found three hundred feet and torn to pieces."

"Dear gods!"

"Indeed, which is why we are being extremely careful. This group of mine moves quickly and at a fast pace, scouting for our nation."

"Same here. Small world isn't it?"

"Metaphorically speaking, yes."

Edwards laughed at that, but his eye's had a concerned look creep into them slowly. "Anything else you wish to warn me about these Deep Roads of yours? I will take the risk and lead my men down into there if it means that we can move faster and quicker at the same time."

"You don't want to do that, trust me. Yaren thought that the risk was minimal and we had to gather up the bits of him left behind and cremate them. I'm telling, that is some creepy that goes on down in those tunnels, and you would be best to steer clear."

"I'll keep that in mind. Is that all?"

"No. If you here howls, have your swords and spears ready. They are weak to fire, burn like kindling. The group of wolfmen that attacked us was also led by something..."

"By what exactly? Bigger wolfman?" Edward laughed at that, but it slowly died off when he saw the serious look in Ulysses's eyes.

"No. A man, peculiar and strange, dressed all in black, he was leading them. Don't know how but you could just tell he was no ordinary man."

Ulysses paused for many seconds till Edward prompted him. "Pausing and starting again gets animals killed in the wild you know, and wastes time here."

"Sorry Englishman but I'm just trying to make sure that the description is not completely horrifying and non mind numbing for you to handle."

"Just tell me then."

"Fine. He had no eyes. And he was covered in stitches. We had men stab him dozens of times and he only bled some black blood and laughed as he tore my men to shreds. He was killed by one of the men, Nathanial, and that in itself made everything that Stitched Man had done look like a kitten playing with a ball of leaves. There was a blood smear across the floor, and all the stitches of his face had been ripped off. His jaws had been cracked and broken, shattered soon afterwards, and his face was a ruin. We couldn't find him initially because we assumed he was a wolf. But dear gods above.... I didn't know Hylin's son could do that, but then again, I wasn't in the village when the incident happened."

"Incident?" Nathanial could hear the Englishman leaning across the table. "What exactly happened?"

"Some stupid child thought it would be funny to steal a token that Nathanial held dear. He was beaten half to death, though a larger fight ensued. He was tossed against a rocky wall which caused those scars and scratches that you see around his eyes. I would have thought that the stuff Nathanial had done that day belonged to Harrison, not little Nat." Ulysses sighed.

"Interesting. Tell me, when was Nathanial born?"

"Seventeen years ago, why?"

"Just curious, but could you be more specific?"

"Not really, you would have to ask some men in the city about that. Myself, I know next to nothing about what goes on there. I've been out in the wildlands for much of my life... don't really know much of anything that goes on back there."

"A pity. I guess I will just ask your man myself. Where is he perchance?"

"I believe we sent him out with a hunting party earlier, you can ask him when he gets back."

"Very well then," Edward pushed his chair back and shook Ulysses's hand. "I shall ask him when I have the chance. But what pray tell is your little group going to do now?"

Ulysses stood up as well, putting a hand against his head and sighing a little. "I intend to follow my forefathers and Yaren's work in scouting. It's all I know how to do. It's not that bad, and we can deal with whatever nature throws at us."

"I sincerely hope you can."


"So, have you seen this man Nathanial?" Edward asked the man that they called Troika. He honestly looked like a mix between a wildlander and a bear, with hands big enough to wrap entirely around your neck and choke you to death. Long brown hair, fair of skin, light blue eyes... the Amerikans and the English really looked like they were two peas of a pod.

"Haven't seen him all for today. Is he in trouble with you or something?" The big man raised on eyebrow questioningly as he flexed his fingers.

"No, I just wish to speak with him is all."

"Ah, I see. Can't really say where he is at the moment, he can be pretty erratic from time to time. Good luck in searching sir."

"Thank you for helping me. Have a good day."

Where is Nathanial? Perhaps... no, no, no. I will find him on my own, without help from others.

Does really anyone ever DoW at meet when playing a normal game?

If they are playing Always War, yes, they would.

hoplitejoe said:

Does really anyone ever DoW at meet when playing a normal game?

Click to expand...

Only when I played as Genghis Khan one time.

Well fellows, I feel the noose tightening and chain drawing close. I fear that I may soon be yet another casualty in another war that is fought in the shadows behind the doors of what we believe to be real and not. I am worried not only for myself but for what happens after I die. I still have the information on the agent program and I don't want to release it yet, not until I can fully put it all out when I think that I may dissapear. If I do that, I will have caused the maximum damage to the people that seek to do me harm.

Not only that, but the Deep Roads... I know quite a bit of you think that this is a larger load of horsehorsehockye then can be fit on one thing, but... it's true, I swear to god now as my witness it's all ture. And I know the location of their project that they keep so secret and care so much about... they can hide nothing from me now.

I am working for all that is good in the world so that we may see the light. Though myself I am starting to doubt that. I have already had several people die for reading the material that I have put on my website, material that is inflammatory and damaging. They may be tracking you right now... but we can not give up now. Not when we are so close to the truth, the realization.

We can not give up, otherwise people that have died for this, reading this, and so much more have all wasted their lives and their sacrifices for nothing. I can not allow that to happen.

I can not and I will not. Trust me, if that happens, I will not be able to live with myself for the rest of my life for what I have done and what I have not done.

May god be with us in our hour of need.

Praise the glory that is America, and may we all see the ligh




We warned you several times already, sent men after you, and tried to destroy you. Yet you continue to not take the hit and still live, breath and function. Surrendering will be the best path for you if you are lucky.

No, you listen to me, I would rather shoot myself than do that than let that happen. All that could possibly be good is if they shoot me quickly and dump my body out into the ocean at thirty thousand feet.

They really weren't thinking about that, but now they will consider that.

I will get you and make sure that I reveal everything about you, I have all the information about you after all.

No you don't, and even so, you wouldn't do it.

Watch me.




"Die fool," Cambridge said quietly as he blew off the Black Marcher's head. He fired the entire clip into the body, the quiet pistol clicking lightly as he dumped the rest of the clip into the other man's head. "That's what you deserve you stupid prick."

"Cambridge, for the last time, stop this stupid madness." Yulai still had his head wrapped up in bandages as he moved forward to clamp a heavy hand down on Cambridge's shoulder. "This is getting obscene. You have already had your bloody sport, and even Oxford is not doing what you are doing at this point. Are you becoming like him?"

"What makes you say that Yulai?" Cambridge looked into his leader's concerned face as he continued to dump rounds endlessly into the dead man's skull, a thin pool of blood being lapped up by the snow. "After all, being stabbed in the eye, humiliated, and not being able to find the woman who did that really doesn't make that much of a difference to me, you know?"

"Cambridge," Epsilon moved forward quietly down, wincing in pain every time his right foot hit the ground. "Stop please."

"Please will not cut it, unless you are asking me to please bring Snowbell's head on a gilded platter adorned with her internal organs. At which point, I will be more than happy to obey."

"You'll get your chance." Yulai moved away now and thumped through the snow down the train tracks. "Washington told us she would most likely be on this train. I hope you get precisely what you want."



"I sincerely hate you Yulai for talking me into this, I sincerely hope that you enjoy that." Cambridge's replacement eye twitched spasmodically. "I really do hate you and hope that you fall off of this and onto the tracks to be run over by a train."

"Hate me all you want, I will just hang on for dear life and not do a thing that could possibly get me killed."

"Shut up both of you," Theta said finally, tired of their bickering. "I really wish myself and the others had not been moved out of our squad. I really do wish that that was true."

The train grinded into gear, all seven of the agents hanging on for dear life onto the top of the freight cars with the cold stell biting deep into the warmness contained within their gloves. The train that had been quietly hijacked and occupied by the Black Marchers grinded slowly northward, no doubt to the destinaton that Snowbell had selected and told them to take her to. By god, none of the agents were about to let that happen without a fight, no matter how lopsided it was.

Five minutes passed with all of them hanging there like lumps of black fruit on a dying tree, praying that the movement of the train over these steep mountain cliffs that had a sharp dropoff onto even sharper stones would not dislodge them and send them tumbling downt he cliffside to their deaths. The red replacement eye that they had grafted into Cambridge's skull twitche again, the agent almost moving to rub it before he remembered just precisely where he was.

After the five minutes were up, Oxford and Epsilon swung and clambered up onto the top of the freight car that they had latched onto of dear life, their custom Dai-Ichii weapons swinging heavily against the wind and the momentum of the train. One by one, they helped the agents onto the top of the car, Cambridge being the last one up there. He shook Epsilon's hand and rubbed both his red and gold eye. He had a job to do now.

They moved along the top of the freight cars slowly, Theta and Nova getting sliding down the bars on the side of the freight cars and into the cars themselves. Little, sharp chatters and the sound of rapid clicking spoke of Black Marchers being murdered in the cars that they occupied, blood being spilt by the agents as they did their vile work.

"It's a good thing this is an electrical train, otherwise I imagine we would have stumbled off by now." The remark drew chuckles from Oxford, Epsilon, and Cambridge as Yulai gave a little half smirk. Delta on the other hand maintaine his ice cold face as his eyes flared. He didn't mind jokes, he was probably just contemplating ways and methods of drawing and quartering one certain former friendly turned pain in the arse.



Snowbell smiled to herself as she watched the flock of about five crows make their way atop the freight cars as they rattled their way northward to Cassius Array. She had a feeling that Cambridge would have tried to come back and kill her one of these days, but the man was obviously driven by enough hatred and murderous feeling to spring for his soonest oppurtunity.

With one fluid motion, she tossed the binoculars over the side of the freight car, smirking to herself. This was going to be fun.



"Where is that horrendous woman," muttered Cambridge as they drew up close to the front of the train. "She has to be here somewhere."

As if one cue, the first voice that he had heard beside his and his fellow agents cracked through the air. "Hello Cambridge, did you bring my gift back to me?"

He turned around sharply, expectinga pistol in his face. Instead, the blackjack smashed into Epsilon first, sending him over the side facing the mountainous cliffs that went jaggedly upwards, with Oxford following suit.

"I always hate bruisers, but they are rather easy to remove from the way aren't they?" Snowbell smiled a mocking smile at Cambridge and the others. "So are you boys going to shoot me like cowards or are you going to fight me in single combat?"

"Not single combat woman," Cambridge said, stepping forward. The steel sword was already in his hand as he took up his position, his red and gold eyes burning with sheer hatred. "I'm afraid this is going to be rather lopsided."

"In my favor you mean." She leapt at him with the blackjack held high.

Great update.

Noooooo not Epsilon!

SamSniped said:

Noooooo not Epsilon!

Click to expand...

He's still alive.

For now.

Why is it that our agents seem to cause such a large amount of things to go wrong in the world? We try to keep them on a short leash when neccessary-

Shown precisely with the matters over the past half year of course.

I was getting to that you know. Anyways, yes they can be a little rogue sometimes and kill some of the civilian populace-

Two thousand and thirty three people is not some of the civilian populace, that's a massive focking amount right there.

If you will let me finish sir, we do what we must, but these matters that we are dealing with are not ordinary in the slightest. We have to keep a lid on everything that goes on behind the scenes, what happens when nobody is watching. We have oaths that we take to try and ensure the well being of the majority of the populace so that they do not succumb to what we are trying to prevent.

And what are you trying to prevent here? It seems to change with every single year that we go through with this. I'm starting to believe that the Verbinschwa were a better selection for these sorts of assingments.

If my men are loose cannons, then the Verbenschwa are essentially the artillery running around the countryside! They have a higher body count than us, almost triple of the total civilian and military deaths caused, in the span of only twenty years!

Their failure rate is also less than half of a percent.

Because they recieve only a few hundred missions a year! The agents recieve tens of thousands, that's a monumental amount that we have to work through to achieve the goals and targets set by this commitee!

We are extremely sorry sir, but the agent program has become rather... obsolete. We need a replacement for them, and the Verbenschwa stand as the pinnacle of what the truly secret government agencies can do if they put their mind to it. With the recent debacle with one of your female agents and the slaughter of hundreds of others, this unchecked violence will only spread further into the countryside as well as the nation itself. And with the powderkeg on the borders at the moment, we can not afford that.

I will not be liquidating the agent program until you truly prove that we are incompetent and the Verbenschwa can do better. Get them to take down Snowbell if my group of agents fail. Right now, they should be skinning that horrid little witch alive and stitching said remains into a flag...





"Little wench, I'll cut out your throat!" Delta howled out the first words he had said to anyone else in weeks, sword flicking out of his sleeve in a flash as he dashed forward at a furious pace. He slashed savagely at Snowbell, catching almost everyone by surprise.

Almost everyone. Snowbell flipped gracefully backwards, driving a boot into Delta's chin for good measure as she did so. All the while she smiled at the others with that sick little smile of hers as the train grumbled along the railway, dangerously close to the ravine that would signal their death if they fell into it.

Delta scrambled back up, his sunglasses cracked and blood running from a cut on his chin. He slashed left and right, right and left, up and down, a flurry of white cuts in the air mixing with the drifting snowflakes. Snowbell parried each one, slamming the pommel of her light and thin saber against Delta time and time again, enraging the crow of a man further and further until his hatred seemed likely to melt the snow in the air and turn it into water.

Yulai broke the silent reverie first. "What are you waiting for fellows, let's get her!"

"You aren't moving yourself Yulai," Theta said. Even so, he took a few hesitant steps forward along with Nova. Cambridge strode forward though as if he was meant for it, picking up speed as he did so, until he was running, leaping, and stabbing with the long blade.




"Ow, ow, ow, ow, damnable pain," Epsilon grunted as with each syllable, his head thumped against the side of the train. His straps on his boots had caught on the edge of the train car, latching on and preventing him from vaulting over the side. Oxford had done thes same, and now he, like Epsilon, was hanging upside down and straining to get back up. With all that blood rushing into his brain, he ought to be able to think a little better than he usually did.

Epsilon strained and tried to reach upwards towards the edge of the traincar to pull himself up. Stretching had never been his strong suit, and now his fingers were literally barely an inch away from being able to pull him up onto the roof of the train car.

Oxford himself was struggling to pull himself up, the problem with having such a large bulk of mostly muscle and a psychopathic attitude that got in the way of dexterity. He to was barely inches away from being able to pull himself up, something extremely cruel and harsh for the small headed man.




This was growing quite boring and irritable, and they still had about two hundred miles to go before the first stop on the route. Snowbell's patience with these lackwit agents was growing thinner than ice during a thaw, something that would most likely override her sense of of self preservation and caution if she left that unchecked. Pesky agents though didn't know when to leave off.

Delta slashed at her continuously with Cambridge right beside of him, the two agents that hated her worse than anything else in the entire world. They could deal with it.

Theta tried to drive home the point of his dirk into her face, which was parried away and the agent smashed across the face with the pommel of her saber. Theta went spiraling away, blood streaming out of a broken nose, as Nova and Yulai took his place in a flurry of motion, pushing her back down the traincar just slightly enough that Cambridge and Delta pushed as well, forcing her back some more. Much like a phalanx formation, these agents were working in tandem to try and drive her back inch by inch until she had no more room left to retreat.

Irksome. Just to drive home the point that she was not interested in screwing around, she brought her foot up in a savage lancing kick upwards at the nearest agent.

Which happened to be Cambridge.




Pain exploded in his groin region as the little wench drove her foot into his groin with the force of an intercontinental ballistic missile smashing into the ground. He dropped to his knees in pain, tasting bile in the back of his throat. He wondered if she had shoved his manhood up into his throat, but the first wave of pain solidly announced that that was not the case. Most likely it would have been better if that had indeed happened.

Dropping to his knees, he tried to find the center of the pain in his body, something that the instructors had taught him a long time ago. Find the center of pain, contain it, pop it like a bubble.

He found the center of pain alright.

Containing it on the other hand.... that was pretty much a joke of the finest right there.

And he really didn't want to imagine anything popping like a soap bubble right now.

Yulai spun and danced with his sword in hand, and Theta came back with a vengence in a flurry of steel slashes and swipes inteneded to take Snowbells head off or cleave it in two, whichever came first.




"Just a little further," Epsilon muttered to himself, pushing himself just a little bit more. "A little further and I'm up and over."

The tips of his fingers grasped the thin metal railing, the bruise on the back of his head pounding from where Snowbell had smashed him with the blackjack so solidly he had thought his head had exploded for one dull moment.

Slowly, the tips of his fingers wound themselves around the railing, Epsilon tasting the victory upon his lips.

It was quite slippery. Cold as well. Epsilon's fingers burned, then fell back.

Many choicier words on what was going on in an exaggerated manner were exchanged between Epsilon and Oxford.




Well, at least she had caused maximum damage to Cambridge, he didn't look like he was going to get back up, not for a long while.

As if he was hearing her thoughts, he struggled back to his feet with his hands clamped in a ball like manner in front of his groin as he winced in pain. Slowly, he reached into his pouches arrayed around his waist over his jacket, unzipping one and pulling out a familiar packet.

Black Spice. Just what Snowbell wanted to see here.

Not really, that just made Cambridge more dangerous than he already was.

Parrying Delta's inhuman slash aside, as well as Theta's and Nova's, Snowbell brought her foot up in an arcing motion, aiming for Cambridge's hand. Yulai did what would be called a prickish move, stepping in between them, taking the blow full to the face.

He dropped to the traincar's roof howling in pain, and rightly so. Out of her peripheral vision, Snowbell could see that the boot had left a giant imprint in the side of his face, probably cracked or dislocated something in his face. Nothing that he couldn't get over right now though.

Another kick, and the packet of Black Spice went flying. The look of rage on Cambridge's face was so much, it could have curdled and disolved milk.

Deciding that cheating would be the best strategy at the moment, he pulled out his favorite pistol, the .45 automatic Dai-Ichii S-66 Sarkov. He clicked the safety off and clicked it, ready to fire.

He took dead aim at Snowbell and squeezed the trigger.

Finally got that one out of the way. Next time I'll try to hold up to my word and publish it sooner, but real life does seem to enjoy messing with what I'm trying to do these days .

But anyways, the next update(s) will concern Caparin and the Mad King storyline. Hope you've enjoyed it so far!

EDIT: Still trying to decide as I have a chunk of fluff concerning the agents and currently debating when to put that out, whether it be before or after the Mad King storyline update.

Caparin's Tale in the Deep Roads, Part 6




Council with the Strangers





The one they called Dacha had a thick appearence, intensified by the way his nostrils flared in anger right now as he paced back and forth across the room. Tarlin sat by the doorway, his arms wrapped around a propped up leg as he watched his brother pace. The blackish-red eyes posessed by the both of them were highly offsetting, given their otherwise human appearence.

"More wolves out of the Deep Roads, and gods above and below, they are getting fiercer. They haven't been like this since someone opened up their own gravebind centuries ago..." Dacha continued to pace, looking at Caparin as if he would gut him with his bare hands. "I wonder who that could have been?"

"Dacha, it's done and over now, we killed them and forced the others to retreat, right?" Tarlin sighed and tapped the floor with one hand lightly in a little tune.

"For now. There were more of them then I could count, and they were better organized by far. Something that is highly displeasing for us, considering our current position and situation."

"Not my fault Dacha that your men are pathetic lackwits who couldn't tell the pointy end of a sword if you stabbed it into their gullet."

In a blur of motion, Dacha had traversed the entire room, picked up Tarlin by the neckline of his clothing and smashed up against the wall with brutal force. "My men are rather good at their job, which is more than I can say for yours, and for you while we are on the subject!" His voice took on a malicious and hissing hint to it now. "I defend this place to the best of my ability, and your criticisms of my work are getting highly annoying. I would open your gravebind and consign you to the Vaults if I didn't want more of these blasted wolves to pour out of their and overrun our positions."

He dropped Tarlin and gave him a kick to the ribs for good measure. The other fellow coughed loudly, the air driven out of him as he curled up into a ball on the stony floor. Outside, another communal religious service was beginning, the people out there howling in the voice and tongue of the preacher that had been part of Dacha's squad to bring him back to this place...

"So, traveler, may I ask why you came here? Why you entered these Deep Roads? Hmmm?" Dacha's red eyes watched Caparin with a heavy intensity of a man who knew he could snap your neck in thirty different directions without trying.

Caparin said not a word.

Dacha took an ominous step forward, drawing a blade black and sharp, serrated in large thorns clearly designed to cause the maximum amount of pain to something. "I'm talking to you traveler."

Still, he did say a word.

The blade was rather cool and lightweight as he it was set against Caparin's neck, Dacha standing there with his eyes glaring at him accusingly. "Tell me now, or this blade severs your head off so fast, you will not even feel it."

Caparin weighed his options. He chose not to speak.

"Suit yourself." Dacha drew the blade back, ready to strike Caparin. The latter closed his eyes in anticipation and latched onto a thought of home.

"Dacha, stop. He needs to be alive, right?"

Caparin cracked open his eyes to see that Tarlin had drawn his own sword and put it in front of Dacha's. It was a courageous, if a rather big bluff. It was evident to the three occupants of this room that Dacha could slash off his brother's arm in a heartbeat and finish off Caparin before Tarlin's body hit the floor. Still, he backed down.

"So, let's start from the beginning then." Tarlin pulled up a chair and sheathed his blade, setting himself down into it, wincing slightly from the pain in his side. "What is your name traveler."

"Caparin. Son of Jakob."

"Well then Caparin Jakobsson, what are you doing down here in our domain? Don't you know it's a dangerous place to venture into?" A curious, disbelieving look had crept into Tarlin's face, and was starting to take hold of Dacha's.

"A little bit. We have our legends and our tales, but the are rather tame to what I saw earlier."

"You mean the gravebind corpse of course. It's a bad thing that you saw that, and I know that it mus be rather shocking for you to look at."

"Rather so. It's not everday that someone gets to see their dead body in a cavern while they are still alive.

Tarlin chuckled at that. "True, true. I will tell you the implications of what you saw later on. But I must ask, why did you come down here? For treasure, glory, honor, thrill, adventure... what pray tell?"

Caparin crossed his arms and looked rather sulkily at the other man. "I came down here to help out a friend in need. What's it to you?"

"Quite a bit actually. Did you not see the large amount of bodies in the pits we have at the beginning of the Deep Roads?"

"Why yes I did, thank you very much."

"Those are there for a reason. Those were made long ago, but now they serve as a grave for the foolish that have come here and perished for what they have tried to do. Conquering and moving through these places is not the best thing to do after all."

"Makes no matter to me."

"It should. But enough of that segment of our conversation. What were you doing for your friend?"

"Why should I tell you? Since I've gotten here, I've been dumped into a pit, beaten, and scared horsehockyeless by you fellows, not to mention the fact I am essentially a prisoner who can not leave. So why should I trust you again?"

"We healed you and gave you food and water. Is that not enough?"

"I can gladly slice your head off and mount it as a trophy for my wall traveler." Dacha snarled out from the shadows.

"Shut it Dacha, enough with that now." Tarlin turned back to Caparin. "Listen to me, all we need to know is what the outside world is like and what you were doing down here. That's all we need to know and we can send you on your way."

Caparin once again weighed his options.

"Fine then. I was sent down here on a request from my leader Joshua. He's been struck by some sort of sickness and can not last very long. I've been sent to try and find a herb that can cure him."

Tarlin looked troubled by that. "What sort of herb?"

"Specifically the Moon Flower."

Tarlin's face was full of increduality as Caparin's words left his lips. "Oh dear..."

MOAR DACHA

Seriously though, if these two are freaked by the Moon Flower, that can't be good.