Summary: Run hard, Bite deep... they were the words they had sworn their lives to. Adventurers of myths and legends, called together under the light of the full moon. Those without equal, they where the guardians of peace and order within the world. And now, they have a slight problem.
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy XI: Online and all succeeding Expansion Packs are the sole property of Square Enix. Their content is used without permission and without personal profit. It is used only for the sole purpose of personal enjoyment to the writer and readers.
Thank you, and enjoy The Mark of the Full Moon!
"But... why me?!"
"Because... you're strong."
"No... I'm not, I'm... I'm nothing..."
"Yes, you are. It just took him to show you that. He does that to everyone he touches..."
"But... what am I supposed to do?"
"... You can start... by waking up."
He bolted awake, sitting up from where he lay as he cradled his head in his hands. He could feel and hear the heavy pulsing of his heart in his ears as he breathed. His breaths slowed, his heart calmed, and finally, he opened his eyes.
Green fields met his eyes. Grass growing so wild and emerald in the meadows, trees dotting the landscape as an eternally overcast sky rolled overhead. A free hand lightly held the earth beneath him as he brought himself fully awake, his body numb with a sleep only Altana knew how long.
He sighed, body stiff as he slowly pulled himself to his feet. This lush, green place, this untouched countryside... he had no idea where he was, but he needed to find out; he needed to find a way back home.
Hachiryu armor lightly clinked and rustled as he walked. The sounds of it, the nearby ocean beating against a cliff, a soft breeze running through the tree branches, and the small heard of sheep and ram just half a malm away met him.
It was strange to hear such piece and solitude. Usually, the hustle and bustle of an Adventurers life was filled with many sounds; armor clanking, robes rustling, magic energies being woven into spells, the notching of arrows to a bow, battle cries... even a calm life in a city was met with sounds of life. People talked amongst themselves, vendors shouting and bartering wares, someone always getting scolded for spending too much, and you could sometimes hear the sounds of slurred but heart-felt singing and stories from the local tavern, or unable to help but smile at a bar-room brawl.
But this... this was silence. It was almost like a death of life as he'd known it, heard it, seen it happen so many times before. An untouched green paradise, and he wanted to leave as soon as possible.
His hand dug into a pocket as he felt for his Linkpearl. The black gloss of the small orb gleamed in his hand as he looked it over. A small crack, barely a hair's width, ran the length of it; even a crack such as that made the pearl useless.
He was normally very careful with his items, but the fracture in the Linkpearl was something even he could not control. It was the creature, the thing that lurked in the Spire of Holla. It's body looked and smelt like burnt spiderwebs, sickled legs scraping and dragging against the ground in a deathly screeching. It's body was bulbous and sickening, glowing with an eerie aura.
He fought it. The creature was after his flesh and he fought it to the best of his strength. His armor and skill served him well to keep him from harm, his trusted blades having treated the monster not so favorably. He stopped, shuddering as he could still hear it's ghostly howls as his weapons tore the beast to pieces. It was powerful, but in such a fight, there was little chance of the battle ending any other way.
His hand pulled from his chest, calming himself back down so he could think clearly. The place was still a deathly quiet as he walked.
No matter where he walked, the crystal compass was always blank. No allies or enemies within range throughout the time he'd been stuck there; the light from beyond the clouds signaled that it must have been in the afternoon as things began to get darker.
An arch of thunder spread across the same sky and he knew the elementals would be out soon. It not from the thunder, then from the rain that was quick to follow. Shelter would be needed and soon.
He followed his way blindly through the meadows, keeping as close as he could to the shore, thinking that a boat or someone fishing might see him and take him back home. So far he'd found none, just the same dead paradise he'd been in since he'd woken up from one nightmare into another.
The shore kept going, on and on and as he neared the southern shore, so said from his crystal compass, his heart nearly leaped in his throat, letting out a soft, relieved sigh. There was a structure, almost like a makeshift watch tower by the shore. Given the setting sun above the clouds, he could faintly see the shape of three figures inside it, surrounding a small lamp by the looks of it.
Yes, there where definitely people there; an Elvaan, a Hume, and a Tarutaru if his eyes weren't deceiving him.
"Hey!" He called, his voice echoing in the empty meadows. "Hello over there!" He waved his hand to signal their attention and his blood ran cold, his heart leaping into his throat, and a chill running over his body as he instantly regretted such a greeting.
Fomor; they where considered by some to be the undead evolved. Their skin was a soulless black, eyes glowing yellow, and their bodies acted as if the person they once where had never died to being with. Right then, the three people he'd seen, where Fomor.
Their weapons instantly drew when they noticed him, bodies sprinting forward in a reckless charge. He drew his weapon, a golden blade known as the Michishiba. He swung it once to slice an incoming arrow in half; the Fomor Elvaan was a Ranger in his past life.
The Fomor Tarutaru, once a Thief by the looks of him, and the Fomor Hume, who'd once been a warrior, stormed him from the front. The Tarutaru fell first. It came into range of his weapon sooner then the first one and met its end as the blade sliced cleanly through it's body, the corpse turning to dust in an instant in such a silent death.
Silence... while some might see it as a blessing in such a busy and noisy world, the silence seemed like such a nightmare here.
The Fomor Hume fared better then the Tarutaru. It raised it's sword, parrying the Michishiba strike for strike. He had to keep a double mind as he fought, trying to keep the warrior at bay while the ranger kept firing at him from afar.
His eyes widened as an arrow clipped his cheek. A small trickle of blood formed on his face and sent the Fomor Hume into a frenzy. The undead feasted on the blood and flesh of the living, and having such a source so close to him, it attacked faster.
A double-handed weapon wasn't something to easily keep up with a single-handed one, but he kept it up, having to jump and dodge to avoid more of the arrow fire as he fought. His body was quickly failing him as the seconds turned to minutes as one volley of arrows got closer and closer to his body then the next.
The corner of his eye caught sight of another arrow being notched and ready to fire, his mind unconsciously knowing this one would strike him. The Fomor Warrior raised his sword to attack again, time seeming to slow down at the assault.
He quickly swung upwards, the blade spiraling out of the Fomors hands and to who cared where. He let go of the blade with one hand, balling it into a fist and punching the undead monster in the face. He could feel bones crush and dried tissue tear in the punch as the Fomor flew sideways and into the path of the arrow.
The Fomor Hume silently burst into dust as the arrow struck it and ended it's existence in the living world.
His eyes widened, the world going black as he saw the Fomor Elvaan notch one last arrow, while his body was in motion and defenseless, and fire.