Chapter 2
When Darkness Falls
Grif walked along the outer perimeter of his tribe's encampment. The stars shone brightly in the sky like a thousand glittering sapphires. Grif knew that his fellow tribesmen were also about scouting the area, half the tribe kept watch at night, while the others during the day. Usually fewer were used to keep watch, but things had changed drastically. Monster attacks had become more frequent. Imps and wolves had been seen running in packs, highly uncharacteristic among creatures that normally hunted each other, and committing organized attacks. They had sent those who could not fight, or were too old to fight into the temple for safety, so that the warriors could guard it without too much worry of loved ones. They were safe deep in the temple. Still, Grif didn't feel safe at all, something called to his warrior instinct that something was deathly wrong. He drew his long sword from its sheath on his back and began to cautiously look around. His eyes picked up a fog that was slowly creeping in north of the camp. Inside he saw shadows moving, but it wasn't clear enough to make any accurate guesses as to what they were.
Something moving off to his left caught his eyes. To gleaming orbs watched him from the shadows of a nearby bush. The stench of rotting meat reached his nose making him gag. Clearly sensing the threat from the eyes Grif asked no questions and lunged, sweeping his long sword out wide. He decapitated the creature easily, but it wasn't that easy. The head rolled to his feet and let out a moan as the body exited the bushes shuffling towards the large man. The gruesome display of the headless, rotting body made bile rise in his throat. He turned on his heels and fled knowing full well that his sword could do little damage to the monster, and also with the knowledge of what now stir in the fog.
"The dead have awaken from their graves, fall back, fall back!" he shouted as he ran for the encampment. Other similar shouts echoed from the night. Grif was the first to return back to encampment, but other hulking forms soon approached. The creeping fog kept closing in, never slowing, or quickening its pace. The flap of a large tent in the center of the encampment flew open and a large man stepped out. He held a mighty battle- axe with one hand.
"Grif what has happened, are we under attack?" the man asked confusion showing clearly on his face.
"Lord Brax, the dead have risen and now come in full force," Grif explained pointing a finger at the approaching fog. Brax eyes widened, he knew what was happening.
"Tarin!" Brax yelled, "Grif, you and my son shall hurry off to the temple and warn the priests of the approaching danger." Grif gave a curt nod with reproach to the idea written clearly on his face.
"Yes father," a man said approaching in a slight jog.
"You and Grif shall head for the temple while we-"
"BUT FATHER!" Tarin shouted at the absurd thought, cutting Brax off.
"While we stay and hold this horde at bay," Brax finished through clenched teeth.
"Why must I go, I shall fight alongside you and my people," Tarin protested.
"Be you a fool boy?" Brax hissed, "You and Grif are the only two who would be able to make it to the temple alive, you are our best fighters, and as such, you have a duty to protect the crystal.now when you reach the temple, tell the priests to light the beacon," Brax explained. Tarin looked away with disdain and nodded before heading for the back entrance.
"We shall not fail you lord Brax," Grif said before turning to chase after Tarin. Both grabbed a torch and made sure their swords were in easy reach before running as fast as they could towards the temple.
"May the crystals shine brightly for you," Brax whispered after them. A cry of alarm came from the front entrance of the encampment. Brax turned that way to see the fog coming closer and creatures exiting it in full sprint to cover the remaining stretch.
"To arms my warriors, protect the path at all costs, and remember fire to be the only thing to work against these foul beasts!" Brax shouted. Ever a smart fighter, Brax grabbed a flagon of ale poured it over his axe, he then touched the axe to the bon fire in the center of the encampment setting it ablaze.
"Let them come to fear the power of the Earth crystal!" He shouted, raising his burning axe high into the air, causing howls to erupt among the tribesmen. With that they broke into a dead run and met the monsters in combat. Brax gave one last look over his shoulder before charging headlong into the fray of the battle.
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Grif and Tarin ran on the sound of battle echoing throughout the night.
"Why must we flee like cowards while the battle rages on behind us?" asked breaking the silence between them.
"Brax would never have sent us if it wasn't important," Grif answered staring straight ahead.
"You sound like you enjoy running away," Tarin stated looking over at Grif.
"If were my choice I would rather be back with our people, but your father feels this is obviously more important," Grif answered, continuing to stare straight ahead.
"Then let us quicken our pace so that we may return to help our brethren," Tarin stated with a smile edging his lips. Grif accepted the challenge of stamina in stride. Soon they were pushing their muscles past their limits.
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Brax lifted his axe for maybe the hundredth time, succeeding in splitting another zombie neatly in half, and setting it ablaze with his fiery axe. Having no time to give a shout of victory, he rushed towards one tribesman who was battling a nasty trio of skeletons. Brax broke through them easily, sending bones flying in every direction. The man gave a grateful nod and rushed off to help another who was in trouble. Another one of the creatures charged Brax hoping to slay the huge man.
A shout from behind him caused him to turn from his battle a moment to find what was going on. What he saw displeased him. An ogre came in club swinging batting his men away like flies. His distraction cost him a glancing hit from the skeletons sword, but it only irritated the huge man. He brought the axe down on the beast shattering every bone on its body. He then went head on with the ogre; after all it was only a few heads taller then he. The creature to a swing at Brax, but he cut the weapon in half. The creature looked dumbfounded at its ruined weapon. Brax used the opportunity to charge the beast. The ogre looked up in time to see the man barrel down on him axe poised over his head. The ogre grabbed the axe as it came down and tore it from Brax grasp. It then lunged for Brax with its bare hands hoping to tear the man apart, but he met the ogre head on grabbing the monsters hands with his own. They stared hard at each other letting out guttural sounds. Brax, wanting the monster to stop breathing on him, smashed hi head into its face making the ogre's head fly backwards. Brax noticed that the ogres' strength faded for a moment, and he used that to his fullest extent. He pulled the monsters arms across its chest pivoted around so that his back was to the beast then used his back as leverage and flipped the monster face down into the ground. Without missing a beat, he drove his fist into the back of the ogres' skull smashing it face first into the hard ground. The ogre lay very still, yet ever-cautious Brax drove his fist in a second time and heard a resounding crack as he shattered the skull on the ground.
Satisfied, he jumped to his feet and rushed towards his axe, scooping it up and rushing straight into another battle. He was beginning to tire, as were all his people. Only the iron will of the tribesmen, kept them from running, which was beginning to look like a very good idea to some who had suffered more serious injuries, but they fought on.
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Grif knew that they were being watched as soon as they entered the forest; he could feel the eyes boring into him, waiting for the right moment to strike.
"We are being shadowed," Grif said as quietly as he could to Tarin while they ran.
"You just noticed, they've been following us for quite some time," Tarin replied.
"Should we strike first?" Grif asked.
"I could use some excitement," Tarin answered back. They stopped at the same time, and drew their swords. They pushed together back-to-back, swords and torches posed, ready for any attack. There came a loud snapping of twigs, as their pursuers saw them stop. Shadows shot out of the bushes on either side encircling them. The creatures were quite small with devilish faces, and pointed caps. They each held two small daggers that glittered in the moonlight. They rode upon wolves that had ragged fur, and foamed at the mouth. They snapped and growled at the cornered pair.
"Imps." Grif stated.
"Riding wolves," Tarin finished for him, hardly stunned.
"Hardly a fair fight."
"Two against twelve, hardly indeed."
"They should have brought more." Grif finished, and simultaneously they broke apart charging opposite side of the ring. Swords and torches worked wildly, fending off snapping jaws and daggers alike. Grif finished off three of them quickly enough, but another three that were in the bushes easily replaced them. He spotted another pair off in the shadows. They stepped into the moonlight and Grif got a good glimpse at the leaders of the coexisting packs. He moved backwards towards Tarin, both meeting back in the center.
"Gray Captain riding a Worg," Grif stated.
"What are you waiting for, hurry up and kill the blasted thing!" Tarin yelled as he fended off six of the little daggers and three snapping jaws.
"Can you handle a press from both sides?" Grif asked. Tarin just smiled and dropped his torch. He reached over his shoulder and drew a second sword.
"Of course," he replied. Grif nodded and fought through the miniscule beasts, heading straight for the leader. He broke through the forces and charged straight through the bushes. The Imp and Worg were quite surprised as the giant man leaped at them from seemingly nowhere. Time seemed to stand still for the Imp. There was a bright flash of light and a resounding pain through the creatures' midsection. The ground came up fast to meet the little beast. It heard a howl and then all was black.
Tarin saw the shadow fly out of the bushes and he heard the lamenting howl. All the Imps and wolves stopped and looked around, then they scattered seeming the remains of their leaders.
"Took you long enough," Tarin stated sarcastically. He was bleeding from numerous cuts and scratches, and had a nasty bite on his forearm.
"Were almost to the temple, the priests there will heal it," Tarin stated looking at the bite.
"Let us hurry, I would rather be gone from this grim place," Grif said. Tarin nodded and they were again sprinting off towards the temple. They were only three quarters of the way there and, most likely, there were other obstacles to overcome.
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Brax saw the monster exit the fog. It was a huge skeleton wearing a purple cloak, and a helmet that held an elegant purple feather and four great horns. Brax recognized the creature for what it was and knew that it was over.
"RETREAT!" He screamed as loud as he could. His warriors looked at him curiously but obeyed. There was a great shake as the ground lurched beneath them. They tried to run, some even got past the exit Brax among them, while others were trapped, in some cases swallowed, by a great rift in the ground.
"You do them no help by watching, just run!" he shouted to his people. A second lurch greater then the first prompted many to fall. Brax looked over his shoulder once; the sight of his village being swallowed by the great chasm that appeared was far from comforting. They had lost the village, but he'd be damned if he would allow them to capture the crystal.
"Lord Brax, why do we run?" one of his warriors asked as they ran.
"Did you see the monster that broke the fog?" turned his head and asked.
"Yes." The man replied
"Do you know who that was?" Brax questioned. His only answer was silence.
"That was Lich, one of the paladins that watched over the Dark crystal," Brax explained, "The purple feather was his trademark."
"That means the rumors are true," The man said with wide eyes. Brax looked ahead and nodded. The five paladins of light had fallen and all was lost.
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Grif and Tarin reached the temple and threw open the doors.
"LIGHT THE BEACON!" they shouted. Priests who were in prayer were startled by the abrupt change in the atmosphere. One priest in particular came up to the two glaring at them.
"What is the meaning of this?" he hissed through clenched teeth.
"The village is under attack, Lord Brax said we must light the beacon, at all costs," Grif said. The priest looked shaken. Never had they been asked to light the beacon. The elderly man began to nod vigorously.
"Light the beacon!" he shouted to the other priests, "Light it I say, don't just stare at me you fools, hurry up and light the beacon, I'll see to your wounds while you explain what happened." While the priest chanted the proper spells, Tarin and Grif explained to the old man what had happened back at the village and that Brax only told them to light the beacon.
"What is the beacon any way?" Grif asked.
"It is a signal to the other temples that signifies that a great evil is coming for the crystals that can't be dealt with by mere humans," the priest explained.
"So it's a signal for the light warriors," Tarin said more then asked.
"In a sense yes, it's meant to rally them together," The priest replied.
"Good since we have finished our duty we must be off, come Tarin the quicker we move, the quicker we can join our people in battle," Grif said walking towards the entrance to the temple. There was a great shake throwing Grif to the ground, and prompting dust to fall from the ceiling. Grif lay on the ground curious as to what happened. Then there was a greater shake, that kept Grif tied to the floor, and hurling the priest and Tarin from their seats. Grif managed to get back to his feet and ran to the door throwing open. A great cloud of dust arose from the direction of the village.
"What was that?" Tarin asked as he moved beside Grif. His eyes widened with shock at the rising dust cloud. They stood in the doorway not speaking a word. A bright flash from above drew their attention to the sky. A beam of yellow light hit the sky and broke off in three separate directions.
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Brax and the remaining tribes men had entered the forest when they saw the lights fly off in the three separate directions and knew the beacon had been lit, perhaps all was not lost. Behind them the monsters were giving chase. They were surprisingly fast when they were prompted to be. This only made the warriors run faster. They had to reach the temple before the undead.
"Sir some of us tire, and can run no more, we few shall stay behind to cover the retreat," one of his warriors said to him. Brax wanted nothing more then for his warriors to continue running, but he understood that many of them were also wounded and would most likely die before they reached the temple anyways.
"Very well, may the crystal watch over you," Brax said with a nod. A third of the weary tribesmen broke off from the group and prepared for their final battle. Those who could not hold their weapons tied them to their arms. Brax looked over his shoulder when he was farther away and saw them engaged in battle. A longing in his heart forced him to stop. Everyone stopped running and stared at him, looking to him for direction.
"I will not flee any longer, I make my stand here," he said to his people. All of them stepped forth meaning to join him, but he only held up his hand. He looked to one of the others.
"Beonre, take the rest of those who can still fight, and head for the temple, tell my son, he is the new leader and to guide our people wisely," he said. So it was a half of the remaining warriors ran of to the temple, while the rest ran back to help those that were fighting. The blazing axe of Lord Brax was held high as he rushed into battle. His arrival in the battle raised the spirits of those who had remained behind.
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Meanwhile Grif, Tarin, and the priest prepared the temple for battle, setting up the front of the building to collapse if need be.
"Me and my priests are behind you two a hundred percent, we may not be much in melee, but our holy spells are enough to drive these creatures away, they mustn't take the crystal," the old man said. Grif and Tarin were truly surprised by the elderly mans strong resolve to fight.
"We appreciate the much needed help, but leave some of your priests with the women and children, to protect them if the creatures find them," Grif said.
"Oh they'll be alright, we have used a spell that is as old as the crystals themselves that wards off anything evil, no harm shall come to them, that is my promise to you," the elderly man said smiling. Grif noted that the old man seemed younger with the prospect of approaching battle.
"Old man, might I ask who you are?" Grif asked curiously.
"My name is Sarda, it is a pleasure to be among warriors again, it warms my old bones, I was once the greatest white wizards of the land, but that was so long ago, I miss the adventures truly I do," Sarda said nodding his head lost in his memories.
"Perhaps your not as old as you think," Grif replied drawing a chuckle from the old man. A general shout from outside made them turn their heads to the door.
"Someone approaches," Tarin came inside and shouted.
"The monsters?" Grif asked.
"No...it's our tribesmen," Tarin replied excitedly. Grif ran to the entrance joy clearly on his face. Their people had survived a horrible battle against the undead. He saw Tarin talking excitedly to a glum faced warrior, he recognized as Beonre. Beonre said a few words to Tarin and his smile fast diminished. Grif walked towards the two, slowly. Tarins face revealed everything; Lord Brax has been struck down in battle and these were the only survivors, the last of the brave warriors who had been in that battle.
"We should go help him, maybe they're still alive," Grif said to Tarin, but he only shook his head.
"My father wouldn't have named me leader if didn't expect to come back," Tarin said glumly, "We will make our last stand here, and from what I have heard, it will indeed be our last stand."
"What do you mean, we have the priests behind us, with their magic and our strength, we shall overcome the hordes.won't we?" Grif asked hopefully. Tarin looked away from Grifs gaze.
"They are led by Lich," Tarin said.
"The paladin of LIGHT?!" Grif shouted completely surprised and shaken. All heads turned to them. Tarin only nodded, confirming the question. The odds truly were against them in this battle.
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Brax continued to fight through the horde of undead. He was the only thing that truly kept them at bay now, he and only three of his fellow tribesmen. The beasts never stopped coming, they rushed on trampling over others to reach the warriors. The burning ax was beginning to dim, as the monsters blood was dampening it. Three sword-wielding skeletons charged him. He fended off the attacks well enough, and took out the three of them easily. The he felt a sharp pain through his upper back and chest. It became hard to breath, but he managed to shatter the skeleton behind him one bone at a time. He looked down at his chest and saw the sword still poking through. He withdrew it from his back with a great gasp. There was a coppery taste in his mouth, and his blood continued to flow out of the wound. With his strength draining fast, he hurled the sword at an approaching ghoul impaling it, and dropping it to the ground from the force of the blow. Then when he caught sight of Lich, he let out a howl, and with his remaining strength he sent his battle-axe spinning towards the fallen paladin. The burning axe flew through the air, cleaving through all in its path, and struck home imbedding itself into Lichs' chest and setting his cape ablaze. A smile crept onto Brax face as his legs buckled and he fell to his knees. A shrill laugh broke the air causing Brax to look up. Lich stood before him, the burning axe in hand.
"It's not that simple," Lich spoke, his voice like two stone grating against each other. The sound made Brax wince, but he tried to stand his ground. He climbed back to his feet, with a renewed vigor.
"You will fail, the light warriors will defeat you," Brax said, victory in his eyes. It was fast lived though as his knees once again buckled, and he was on his hands and knees coughing up blood. He grit his bloody teeth and snarled at the demon. Once again he felt a great pain in his back. He had a last minute glance at Lich, and then all went black.
"That is why they all must be killed," Lich hissed to the dead barbarian with a burning axe halfway into his back.
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The attack came swiftly, but they had been prepared. The priests cast their spells while the barbarians took care of the melee battles. Tarin and Grif worked together, their torches and swords working wildly. Of all the warriors fighting, they were having the easiest time.
"We signal the retreat once Lich arrives, until then we hold position," Tarin said to Grif. They fought on long and hard, but when it seemed that they were gaining an upper hand, Lich appeared in the door way. Grif saw him first, and nodded to Sarda who was backing them up from afar. The priest received the signal and told his wizards to ready the room.
"RETREAT!" Grif and Tarin shouted together. Soon they were running to the crystal chamber. Grif and Tarin were the last to enter, making sure that the others were safely in side first. Sarda pulled a lever inside the chamber just as Tarin and Grif slammed the doors shut. There was a great rumbling sound as the room on the other side collapsed, crushing everything with tons of stone. Luckily for them the doors opened outward, making it harder for anything on the outside to get inside the room. They heard a great roar come from the other side of the door. There was more rumbling as the ground began to shake, then something that sounded like a landslide. The doors burst outward, as hundreds of the undead burst into the room. Those unprepared were swarmed in seconds, while the others did their best to fend off attacks. Grif and Tarin found themselves surrounded back to back once again.
"I don't think these guys have a leader to strike at this time," Grif said looking around at the ghouls.
"And I don't think it would have mattered anyways," Tarin replied throwing his torch at the nearest beast and drawing out his other blade. The monsters came at them as soon as the torch downed their comrade. The task at hand for the remaining two fighters was simple enough, slay the enemies and survive. Completing it among hordes of monsters was near to impossible though. They fought on for what felt like years, monster after monster came at them. When the final one was dead, and being hacked a part by a very angry Tarin, Grif realized just how tired he was. "Take THAT...and THAT...and a little bit of THIS!" Tarin continued to shout until he was finally sure the thing was not getting back up. They slumped to the floor back to back, panting heavily. "Do you think it's over?" Grif asked looking over his shoulder at Tarin. "I hope so," Tarin said looking at the crystal above him, then around him at the carnage. So many dead, just to protect a crystal. Grif looked around similarly, he saw the battered forms of priests lying about. He was looking for one in particular; he hoped dearly that the old man had survived the brutal onslaught.
"My, my, my, isn't this a pretty sight," a voice said from the door. Both heads turned to see Lich standing in the doorway. He moved in slowly and methodically, drawing satisfaction from the look of horror on their faces.
"Can't you bastards just stay dead?" Tarin asked as he and Grif climbed back to their feet and into positions for fighting. The crystal, as if sensing their exhaustion and the threat, shone even brighter above them. They felt even stronger then before, as waves of energy spread throughout their bodies. Tarin was the first to charge, he threw his torch out at the monster as a distraction as he barreled in swords drawn and ready to strike. The burning missile was brushed aside with a wave of Lichs' arm, while the other grabbed Tarin around his upper skull, and began to systematically squeeze. Tarins swords clattered to the ground as he tried to claw the skeletons grasp from his head. Grif heard the screams and screamed himself, as he leaped to attack. A wave of Lichs' free hand had Grif falling away into the darkness of a newly formed pit. His screams died away as he fell away into the dark abyss.
"I grow tired of these games," Lich hissed to the squirming Tarin. He gave a quick squeeze of his hand and as quickly as it started it ended. Tarins' body fell to the ground while Lich stared at his hand in disgust before wiping it on the warriors' clothes.
"I forgot what a mess mortals made when they die," Lich muttered to himself. He looked up at the crystal floating above, his eternal smile widening, if possible. He formed a great pillar of stone underneath himself bringing him level with the shining stone. He produced an orb from the folds of his cloak, and fell into a silent chant. The orb shone brighter, then a yellow light fled from the crystal into the orb. The crystal began to falter then it fell into the abyss directly under it, where it followed the light of a still burning torch far below. Lich laughed maniacally as his pillar sank back into the ground.
"Do you have the soul?" a cold voice asked behind him. Lich stopped laughing and became sincerely humbled. He turned around slowly to face his master.
"Yes sir, the soul has been captured, just as planned, and all the warriors are dead," Lich explained, faltering several times. Even he, being undead, feared this man who was the least warped by the crystals.
"That took longer then I would normally expect from you Lich.and the Crystals physical form, what happened to it?" The man asked.
"It f...I mean I threw it down the hole," Lich said puffing out his chest.
"Good, now head to Terra cave," The man said before turning to leave.
"But sir, why must I go there?" Lich protested.
"I will NOT, take any chances, you will go there and guard the crystal with your life, is that clear?" the man said never turning around.
"BUT SIR-" Lich began, but he immediately swallowed the rest of his words as the man spun around on him his eyes glowing with an inner fire.
"YOU WILL DO AS I SAY!" The man screamed, his voice becoming deep and foreboding. Lich shrank away and nodded fearfully. The man left through the door, he made no sound at all. Lich gave a sigh of relief, left as well.
It was only when he left that Sarda came out of hiding. He looked around at the terrible mess. He looked at the gaping hole in the ground, then to the back door where rest of the village was hiding.
"I guess all is lost after all," Sarda said shaking his head. He closed his eyes; it was his adventuring days all over again, right down to where he was the only survivor of another horrific battle. His thoughts turned to the hole where Grif and the crystal had fallen.
"I had serious expectations of those two," He said in quiet contemplation. He shook his head again and headed for the back room.
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Grif finally got his senses together long enough to dig his sword into the side of the abyss. It stuck hard and gave him a good shake. His arms felt like jelly, and his hands were cold making it harder to keep a tight grip on the sword. Luckily for him there was an overhang no more then three, maybe five, feet above him. He could only tell by the light his torch gave off even though it was dying fast. He carefully reached down into his animal skin boot and slid out a Stiletto, a long slender knife with a strong blade. It was his spoils from the Gray Captain he had slain earlier. He gripped it tightly and slammed it into the rock face, giving himself a second hold. Using his sword and his Stiletto, he scaled the wall in a matter of seconds. He reached the outcropping and huddled by the fire of his torch. His muscles ached and his stomach was growling.
"I'll not survive for long, and there isn't much else that I can do besides scale the wall, and who knows how many outcroppings like this there are," he mumbled to himself. He shook his head, to clear his mind of the dark thoughts.
"No, I won't die down here, not like this, not like a coward...I will rest for now, when my strength returns, I shall climb and then I shall have my revenge upon Lich, he will know true pain when we meet again," he assured himself. He looked up into the darkness that loomed above as well as below. Something twinkling caught his eyes. At first he thought it was the hole he had fallen through. Then he realized that it was coming towards him. What he saw gave him hope, the crystal of Earth. It landed at the edge of the ridge and was threatening to jump off, and continue its' decent, had not Grif caught it. He was relived and saddened at the same time, on one hand he had the crystal, on the other, it was no longer shining as it had been above. He looked back up into the gloomy darkness. His goal only seemed further away now. He settled back down near the fire, and rested a bit longer, all the while staring into the crystal, hoping that it would brighten again, and shed some more light in the darkness, for his torch would last only so long.
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Mr. Movie Voice: I refuse to work under these conditions, I want may type in italics, it raises me above the rabble.
Sniper Wulf: Well if you won't I will, and in that case your fired...Hello good readers, what an exciting chapter that was wasn't it, and one of my longest yet, I've even surprised myself. Well next time on Tale Untold, the beacon has reached the other crystal bearers, but has it reached them in time, will the Water and Fire crystals suffer the same fate as the Earth crystal, and what of Grif, what shall become of him. Find out next time on Final Fantasy: The Tale Untold, and don't forget to review folks.
Mr. Movie Voice: He's quite good, but I'm still the best.
Sniper Wulf: I thought I fired you?
When Darkness Falls
Grif walked along the outer perimeter of his tribe's encampment. The stars shone brightly in the sky like a thousand glittering sapphires. Grif knew that his fellow tribesmen were also about scouting the area, half the tribe kept watch at night, while the others during the day. Usually fewer were used to keep watch, but things had changed drastically. Monster attacks had become more frequent. Imps and wolves had been seen running in packs, highly uncharacteristic among creatures that normally hunted each other, and committing organized attacks. They had sent those who could not fight, or were too old to fight into the temple for safety, so that the warriors could guard it without too much worry of loved ones. They were safe deep in the temple. Still, Grif didn't feel safe at all, something called to his warrior instinct that something was deathly wrong. He drew his long sword from its sheath on his back and began to cautiously look around. His eyes picked up a fog that was slowly creeping in north of the camp. Inside he saw shadows moving, but it wasn't clear enough to make any accurate guesses as to what they were.
Something moving off to his left caught his eyes. To gleaming orbs watched him from the shadows of a nearby bush. The stench of rotting meat reached his nose making him gag. Clearly sensing the threat from the eyes Grif asked no questions and lunged, sweeping his long sword out wide. He decapitated the creature easily, but it wasn't that easy. The head rolled to his feet and let out a moan as the body exited the bushes shuffling towards the large man. The gruesome display of the headless, rotting body made bile rise in his throat. He turned on his heels and fled knowing full well that his sword could do little damage to the monster, and also with the knowledge of what now stir in the fog.
"The dead have awaken from their graves, fall back, fall back!" he shouted as he ran for the encampment. Other similar shouts echoed from the night. Grif was the first to return back to encampment, but other hulking forms soon approached. The creeping fog kept closing in, never slowing, or quickening its pace. The flap of a large tent in the center of the encampment flew open and a large man stepped out. He held a mighty battle- axe with one hand.
"Grif what has happened, are we under attack?" the man asked confusion showing clearly on his face.
"Lord Brax, the dead have risen and now come in full force," Grif explained pointing a finger at the approaching fog. Brax eyes widened, he knew what was happening.
"Tarin!" Brax yelled, "Grif, you and my son shall hurry off to the temple and warn the priests of the approaching danger." Grif gave a curt nod with reproach to the idea written clearly on his face.
"Yes father," a man said approaching in a slight jog.
"You and Grif shall head for the temple while we-"
"BUT FATHER!" Tarin shouted at the absurd thought, cutting Brax off.
"While we stay and hold this horde at bay," Brax finished through clenched teeth.
"Why must I go, I shall fight alongside you and my people," Tarin protested.
"Be you a fool boy?" Brax hissed, "You and Grif are the only two who would be able to make it to the temple alive, you are our best fighters, and as such, you have a duty to protect the crystal.now when you reach the temple, tell the priests to light the beacon," Brax explained. Tarin looked away with disdain and nodded before heading for the back entrance.
"We shall not fail you lord Brax," Grif said before turning to chase after Tarin. Both grabbed a torch and made sure their swords were in easy reach before running as fast as they could towards the temple.
"May the crystals shine brightly for you," Brax whispered after them. A cry of alarm came from the front entrance of the encampment. Brax turned that way to see the fog coming closer and creatures exiting it in full sprint to cover the remaining stretch.
"To arms my warriors, protect the path at all costs, and remember fire to be the only thing to work against these foul beasts!" Brax shouted. Ever a smart fighter, Brax grabbed a flagon of ale poured it over his axe, he then touched the axe to the bon fire in the center of the encampment setting it ablaze.
"Let them come to fear the power of the Earth crystal!" He shouted, raising his burning axe high into the air, causing howls to erupt among the tribesmen. With that they broke into a dead run and met the monsters in combat. Brax gave one last look over his shoulder before charging headlong into the fray of the battle.
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Grif and Tarin ran on the sound of battle echoing throughout the night.
"Why must we flee like cowards while the battle rages on behind us?" asked breaking the silence between them.
"Brax would never have sent us if it wasn't important," Grif answered staring straight ahead.
"You sound like you enjoy running away," Tarin stated looking over at Grif.
"If were my choice I would rather be back with our people, but your father feels this is obviously more important," Grif answered, continuing to stare straight ahead.
"Then let us quicken our pace so that we may return to help our brethren," Tarin stated with a smile edging his lips. Grif accepted the challenge of stamina in stride. Soon they were pushing their muscles past their limits.
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Brax lifted his axe for maybe the hundredth time, succeeding in splitting another zombie neatly in half, and setting it ablaze with his fiery axe. Having no time to give a shout of victory, he rushed towards one tribesman who was battling a nasty trio of skeletons. Brax broke through them easily, sending bones flying in every direction. The man gave a grateful nod and rushed off to help another who was in trouble. Another one of the creatures charged Brax hoping to slay the huge man.
A shout from behind him caused him to turn from his battle a moment to find what was going on. What he saw displeased him. An ogre came in club swinging batting his men away like flies. His distraction cost him a glancing hit from the skeletons sword, but it only irritated the huge man. He brought the axe down on the beast shattering every bone on its body. He then went head on with the ogre; after all it was only a few heads taller then he. The creature to a swing at Brax, but he cut the weapon in half. The creature looked dumbfounded at its ruined weapon. Brax used the opportunity to charge the beast. The ogre looked up in time to see the man barrel down on him axe poised over his head. The ogre grabbed the axe as it came down and tore it from Brax grasp. It then lunged for Brax with its bare hands hoping to tear the man apart, but he met the ogre head on grabbing the monsters hands with his own. They stared hard at each other letting out guttural sounds. Brax, wanting the monster to stop breathing on him, smashed hi head into its face making the ogre's head fly backwards. Brax noticed that the ogres' strength faded for a moment, and he used that to his fullest extent. He pulled the monsters arms across its chest pivoted around so that his back was to the beast then used his back as leverage and flipped the monster face down into the ground. Without missing a beat, he drove his fist into the back of the ogres' skull smashing it face first into the hard ground. The ogre lay very still, yet ever-cautious Brax drove his fist in a second time and heard a resounding crack as he shattered the skull on the ground.
Satisfied, he jumped to his feet and rushed towards his axe, scooping it up and rushing straight into another battle. He was beginning to tire, as were all his people. Only the iron will of the tribesmen, kept them from running, which was beginning to look like a very good idea to some who had suffered more serious injuries, but they fought on.
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Grif knew that they were being watched as soon as they entered the forest; he could feel the eyes boring into him, waiting for the right moment to strike.
"We are being shadowed," Grif said as quietly as he could to Tarin while they ran.
"You just noticed, they've been following us for quite some time," Tarin replied.
"Should we strike first?" Grif asked.
"I could use some excitement," Tarin answered back. They stopped at the same time, and drew their swords. They pushed together back-to-back, swords and torches posed, ready for any attack. There came a loud snapping of twigs, as their pursuers saw them stop. Shadows shot out of the bushes on either side encircling them. The creatures were quite small with devilish faces, and pointed caps. They each held two small daggers that glittered in the moonlight. They rode upon wolves that had ragged fur, and foamed at the mouth. They snapped and growled at the cornered pair.
"Imps." Grif stated.
"Riding wolves," Tarin finished for him, hardly stunned.
"Hardly a fair fight."
"Two against twelve, hardly indeed."
"They should have brought more." Grif finished, and simultaneously they broke apart charging opposite side of the ring. Swords and torches worked wildly, fending off snapping jaws and daggers alike. Grif finished off three of them quickly enough, but another three that were in the bushes easily replaced them. He spotted another pair off in the shadows. They stepped into the moonlight and Grif got a good glimpse at the leaders of the coexisting packs. He moved backwards towards Tarin, both meeting back in the center.
"Gray Captain riding a Worg," Grif stated.
"What are you waiting for, hurry up and kill the blasted thing!" Tarin yelled as he fended off six of the little daggers and three snapping jaws.
"Can you handle a press from both sides?" Grif asked. Tarin just smiled and dropped his torch. He reached over his shoulder and drew a second sword.
"Of course," he replied. Grif nodded and fought through the miniscule beasts, heading straight for the leader. He broke through the forces and charged straight through the bushes. The Imp and Worg were quite surprised as the giant man leaped at them from seemingly nowhere. Time seemed to stand still for the Imp. There was a bright flash of light and a resounding pain through the creatures' midsection. The ground came up fast to meet the little beast. It heard a howl and then all was black.
Tarin saw the shadow fly out of the bushes and he heard the lamenting howl. All the Imps and wolves stopped and looked around, then they scattered seeming the remains of their leaders.
"Took you long enough," Tarin stated sarcastically. He was bleeding from numerous cuts and scratches, and had a nasty bite on his forearm.
"Were almost to the temple, the priests there will heal it," Tarin stated looking at the bite.
"Let us hurry, I would rather be gone from this grim place," Grif said. Tarin nodded and they were again sprinting off towards the temple. They were only three quarters of the way there and, most likely, there were other obstacles to overcome.
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Brax saw the monster exit the fog. It was a huge skeleton wearing a purple cloak, and a helmet that held an elegant purple feather and four great horns. Brax recognized the creature for what it was and knew that it was over.
"RETREAT!" He screamed as loud as he could. His warriors looked at him curiously but obeyed. There was a great shake as the ground lurched beneath them. They tried to run, some even got past the exit Brax among them, while others were trapped, in some cases swallowed, by a great rift in the ground.
"You do them no help by watching, just run!" he shouted to his people. A second lurch greater then the first prompted many to fall. Brax looked over his shoulder once; the sight of his village being swallowed by the great chasm that appeared was far from comforting. They had lost the village, but he'd be damned if he would allow them to capture the crystal.
"Lord Brax, why do we run?" one of his warriors asked as they ran.
"Did you see the monster that broke the fog?" turned his head and asked.
"Yes." The man replied
"Do you know who that was?" Brax questioned. His only answer was silence.
"That was Lich, one of the paladins that watched over the Dark crystal," Brax explained, "The purple feather was his trademark."
"That means the rumors are true," The man said with wide eyes. Brax looked ahead and nodded. The five paladins of light had fallen and all was lost.
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Grif and Tarin reached the temple and threw open the doors.
"LIGHT THE BEACON!" they shouted. Priests who were in prayer were startled by the abrupt change in the atmosphere. One priest in particular came up to the two glaring at them.
"What is the meaning of this?" he hissed through clenched teeth.
"The village is under attack, Lord Brax said we must light the beacon, at all costs," Grif said. The priest looked shaken. Never had they been asked to light the beacon. The elderly man began to nod vigorously.
"Light the beacon!" he shouted to the other priests, "Light it I say, don't just stare at me you fools, hurry up and light the beacon, I'll see to your wounds while you explain what happened." While the priest chanted the proper spells, Tarin and Grif explained to the old man what had happened back at the village and that Brax only told them to light the beacon.
"What is the beacon any way?" Grif asked.
"It is a signal to the other temples that signifies that a great evil is coming for the crystals that can't be dealt with by mere humans," the priest explained.
"So it's a signal for the light warriors," Tarin said more then asked.
"In a sense yes, it's meant to rally them together," The priest replied.
"Good since we have finished our duty we must be off, come Tarin the quicker we move, the quicker we can join our people in battle," Grif said walking towards the entrance to the temple. There was a great shake throwing Grif to the ground, and prompting dust to fall from the ceiling. Grif lay on the ground curious as to what happened. Then there was a greater shake, that kept Grif tied to the floor, and hurling the priest and Tarin from their seats. Grif managed to get back to his feet and ran to the door throwing open. A great cloud of dust arose from the direction of the village.
"What was that?" Tarin asked as he moved beside Grif. His eyes widened with shock at the rising dust cloud. They stood in the doorway not speaking a word. A bright flash from above drew their attention to the sky. A beam of yellow light hit the sky and broke off in three separate directions.
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Brax and the remaining tribes men had entered the forest when they saw the lights fly off in the three separate directions and knew the beacon had been lit, perhaps all was not lost. Behind them the monsters were giving chase. They were surprisingly fast when they were prompted to be. This only made the warriors run faster. They had to reach the temple before the undead.
"Sir some of us tire, and can run no more, we few shall stay behind to cover the retreat," one of his warriors said to him. Brax wanted nothing more then for his warriors to continue running, but he understood that many of them were also wounded and would most likely die before they reached the temple anyways.
"Very well, may the crystal watch over you," Brax said with a nod. A third of the weary tribesmen broke off from the group and prepared for their final battle. Those who could not hold their weapons tied them to their arms. Brax looked over his shoulder when he was farther away and saw them engaged in battle. A longing in his heart forced him to stop. Everyone stopped running and stared at him, looking to him for direction.
"I will not flee any longer, I make my stand here," he said to his people. All of them stepped forth meaning to join him, but he only held up his hand. He looked to one of the others.
"Beonre, take the rest of those who can still fight, and head for the temple, tell my son, he is the new leader and to guide our people wisely," he said. So it was a half of the remaining warriors ran of to the temple, while the rest ran back to help those that were fighting. The blazing axe of Lord Brax was held high as he rushed into battle. His arrival in the battle raised the spirits of those who had remained behind.
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Meanwhile Grif, Tarin, and the priest prepared the temple for battle, setting up the front of the building to collapse if need be.
"Me and my priests are behind you two a hundred percent, we may not be much in melee, but our holy spells are enough to drive these creatures away, they mustn't take the crystal," the old man said. Grif and Tarin were truly surprised by the elderly mans strong resolve to fight.
"We appreciate the much needed help, but leave some of your priests with the women and children, to protect them if the creatures find them," Grif said.
"Oh they'll be alright, we have used a spell that is as old as the crystals themselves that wards off anything evil, no harm shall come to them, that is my promise to you," the elderly man said smiling. Grif noted that the old man seemed younger with the prospect of approaching battle.
"Old man, might I ask who you are?" Grif asked curiously.
"My name is Sarda, it is a pleasure to be among warriors again, it warms my old bones, I was once the greatest white wizards of the land, but that was so long ago, I miss the adventures truly I do," Sarda said nodding his head lost in his memories.
"Perhaps your not as old as you think," Grif replied drawing a chuckle from the old man. A general shout from outside made them turn their heads to the door.
"Someone approaches," Tarin came inside and shouted.
"The monsters?" Grif asked.
"No...it's our tribesmen," Tarin replied excitedly. Grif ran to the entrance joy clearly on his face. Their people had survived a horrible battle against the undead. He saw Tarin talking excitedly to a glum faced warrior, he recognized as Beonre. Beonre said a few words to Tarin and his smile fast diminished. Grif walked towards the two, slowly. Tarins face revealed everything; Lord Brax has been struck down in battle and these were the only survivors, the last of the brave warriors who had been in that battle.
"We should go help him, maybe they're still alive," Grif said to Tarin, but he only shook his head.
"My father wouldn't have named me leader if didn't expect to come back," Tarin said glumly, "We will make our last stand here, and from what I have heard, it will indeed be our last stand."
"What do you mean, we have the priests behind us, with their magic and our strength, we shall overcome the hordes.won't we?" Grif asked hopefully. Tarin looked away from Grifs gaze.
"They are led by Lich," Tarin said.
"The paladin of LIGHT?!" Grif shouted completely surprised and shaken. All heads turned to them. Tarin only nodded, confirming the question. The odds truly were against them in this battle.
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Brax continued to fight through the horde of undead. He was the only thing that truly kept them at bay now, he and only three of his fellow tribesmen. The beasts never stopped coming, they rushed on trampling over others to reach the warriors. The burning ax was beginning to dim, as the monsters blood was dampening it. Three sword-wielding skeletons charged him. He fended off the attacks well enough, and took out the three of them easily. The he felt a sharp pain through his upper back and chest. It became hard to breath, but he managed to shatter the skeleton behind him one bone at a time. He looked down at his chest and saw the sword still poking through. He withdrew it from his back with a great gasp. There was a coppery taste in his mouth, and his blood continued to flow out of the wound. With his strength draining fast, he hurled the sword at an approaching ghoul impaling it, and dropping it to the ground from the force of the blow. Then when he caught sight of Lich, he let out a howl, and with his remaining strength he sent his battle-axe spinning towards the fallen paladin. The burning axe flew through the air, cleaving through all in its path, and struck home imbedding itself into Lichs' chest and setting his cape ablaze. A smile crept onto Brax face as his legs buckled and he fell to his knees. A shrill laugh broke the air causing Brax to look up. Lich stood before him, the burning axe in hand.
"It's not that simple," Lich spoke, his voice like two stone grating against each other. The sound made Brax wince, but he tried to stand his ground. He climbed back to his feet, with a renewed vigor.
"You will fail, the light warriors will defeat you," Brax said, victory in his eyes. It was fast lived though as his knees once again buckled, and he was on his hands and knees coughing up blood. He grit his bloody teeth and snarled at the demon. Once again he felt a great pain in his back. He had a last minute glance at Lich, and then all went black.
"That is why they all must be killed," Lich hissed to the dead barbarian with a burning axe halfway into his back.
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The attack came swiftly, but they had been prepared. The priests cast their spells while the barbarians took care of the melee battles. Tarin and Grif worked together, their torches and swords working wildly. Of all the warriors fighting, they were having the easiest time.
"We signal the retreat once Lich arrives, until then we hold position," Tarin said to Grif. They fought on long and hard, but when it seemed that they were gaining an upper hand, Lich appeared in the door way. Grif saw him first, and nodded to Sarda who was backing them up from afar. The priest received the signal and told his wizards to ready the room.
"RETREAT!" Grif and Tarin shouted together. Soon they were running to the crystal chamber. Grif and Tarin were the last to enter, making sure that the others were safely in side first. Sarda pulled a lever inside the chamber just as Tarin and Grif slammed the doors shut. There was a great rumbling sound as the room on the other side collapsed, crushing everything with tons of stone. Luckily for them the doors opened outward, making it harder for anything on the outside to get inside the room. They heard a great roar come from the other side of the door. There was more rumbling as the ground began to shake, then something that sounded like a landslide. The doors burst outward, as hundreds of the undead burst into the room. Those unprepared were swarmed in seconds, while the others did their best to fend off attacks. Grif and Tarin found themselves surrounded back to back once again.
"I don't think these guys have a leader to strike at this time," Grif said looking around at the ghouls.
"And I don't think it would have mattered anyways," Tarin replied throwing his torch at the nearest beast and drawing out his other blade. The monsters came at them as soon as the torch downed their comrade. The task at hand for the remaining two fighters was simple enough, slay the enemies and survive. Completing it among hordes of monsters was near to impossible though. They fought on for what felt like years, monster after monster came at them. When the final one was dead, and being hacked a part by a very angry Tarin, Grif realized just how tired he was. "Take THAT...and THAT...and a little bit of THIS!" Tarin continued to shout until he was finally sure the thing was not getting back up. They slumped to the floor back to back, panting heavily. "Do you think it's over?" Grif asked looking over his shoulder at Tarin. "I hope so," Tarin said looking at the crystal above him, then around him at the carnage. So many dead, just to protect a crystal. Grif looked around similarly, he saw the battered forms of priests lying about. He was looking for one in particular; he hoped dearly that the old man had survived the brutal onslaught.
"My, my, my, isn't this a pretty sight," a voice said from the door. Both heads turned to see Lich standing in the doorway. He moved in slowly and methodically, drawing satisfaction from the look of horror on their faces.
"Can't you bastards just stay dead?" Tarin asked as he and Grif climbed back to their feet and into positions for fighting. The crystal, as if sensing their exhaustion and the threat, shone even brighter above them. They felt even stronger then before, as waves of energy spread throughout their bodies. Tarin was the first to charge, he threw his torch out at the monster as a distraction as he barreled in swords drawn and ready to strike. The burning missile was brushed aside with a wave of Lichs' arm, while the other grabbed Tarin around his upper skull, and began to systematically squeeze. Tarins swords clattered to the ground as he tried to claw the skeletons grasp from his head. Grif heard the screams and screamed himself, as he leaped to attack. A wave of Lichs' free hand had Grif falling away into the darkness of a newly formed pit. His screams died away as he fell away into the dark abyss.
"I grow tired of these games," Lich hissed to the squirming Tarin. He gave a quick squeeze of his hand and as quickly as it started it ended. Tarins' body fell to the ground while Lich stared at his hand in disgust before wiping it on the warriors' clothes.
"I forgot what a mess mortals made when they die," Lich muttered to himself. He looked up at the crystal floating above, his eternal smile widening, if possible. He formed a great pillar of stone underneath himself bringing him level with the shining stone. He produced an orb from the folds of his cloak, and fell into a silent chant. The orb shone brighter, then a yellow light fled from the crystal into the orb. The crystal began to falter then it fell into the abyss directly under it, where it followed the light of a still burning torch far below. Lich laughed maniacally as his pillar sank back into the ground.
"Do you have the soul?" a cold voice asked behind him. Lich stopped laughing and became sincerely humbled. He turned around slowly to face his master.
"Yes sir, the soul has been captured, just as planned, and all the warriors are dead," Lich explained, faltering several times. Even he, being undead, feared this man who was the least warped by the crystals.
"That took longer then I would normally expect from you Lich.and the Crystals physical form, what happened to it?" The man asked.
"It f...I mean I threw it down the hole," Lich said puffing out his chest.
"Good, now head to Terra cave," The man said before turning to leave.
"But sir, why must I go there?" Lich protested.
"I will NOT, take any chances, you will go there and guard the crystal with your life, is that clear?" the man said never turning around.
"BUT SIR-" Lich began, but he immediately swallowed the rest of his words as the man spun around on him his eyes glowing with an inner fire.
"YOU WILL DO AS I SAY!" The man screamed, his voice becoming deep and foreboding. Lich shrank away and nodded fearfully. The man left through the door, he made no sound at all. Lich gave a sigh of relief, left as well.
It was only when he left that Sarda came out of hiding. He looked around at the terrible mess. He looked at the gaping hole in the ground, then to the back door where rest of the village was hiding.
"I guess all is lost after all," Sarda said shaking his head. He closed his eyes; it was his adventuring days all over again, right down to where he was the only survivor of another horrific battle. His thoughts turned to the hole where Grif and the crystal had fallen.
"I had serious expectations of those two," He said in quiet contemplation. He shook his head again and headed for the back room.
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Grif finally got his senses together long enough to dig his sword into the side of the abyss. It stuck hard and gave him a good shake. His arms felt like jelly, and his hands were cold making it harder to keep a tight grip on the sword. Luckily for him there was an overhang no more then three, maybe five, feet above him. He could only tell by the light his torch gave off even though it was dying fast. He carefully reached down into his animal skin boot and slid out a Stiletto, a long slender knife with a strong blade. It was his spoils from the Gray Captain he had slain earlier. He gripped it tightly and slammed it into the rock face, giving himself a second hold. Using his sword and his Stiletto, he scaled the wall in a matter of seconds. He reached the outcropping and huddled by the fire of his torch. His muscles ached and his stomach was growling.
"I'll not survive for long, and there isn't much else that I can do besides scale the wall, and who knows how many outcroppings like this there are," he mumbled to himself. He shook his head, to clear his mind of the dark thoughts.
"No, I won't die down here, not like this, not like a coward...I will rest for now, when my strength returns, I shall climb and then I shall have my revenge upon Lich, he will know true pain when we meet again," he assured himself. He looked up into the darkness that loomed above as well as below. Something twinkling caught his eyes. At first he thought it was the hole he had fallen through. Then he realized that it was coming towards him. What he saw gave him hope, the crystal of Earth. It landed at the edge of the ridge and was threatening to jump off, and continue its' decent, had not Grif caught it. He was relived and saddened at the same time, on one hand he had the crystal, on the other, it was no longer shining as it had been above. He looked back up into the gloomy darkness. His goal only seemed further away now. He settled back down near the fire, and rested a bit longer, all the while staring into the crystal, hoping that it would brighten again, and shed some more light in the darkness, for his torch would last only so long.
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Mr. Movie Voice: I refuse to work under these conditions, I want may type in italics, it raises me above the rabble.
Sniper Wulf: Well if you won't I will, and in that case your fired...Hello good readers, what an exciting chapter that was wasn't it, and one of my longest yet, I've even surprised myself. Well next time on Tale Untold, the beacon has reached the other crystal bearers, but has it reached them in time, will the Water and Fire crystals suffer the same fate as the Earth crystal, and what of Grif, what shall become of him. Find out next time on Final Fantasy: The Tale Untold, and don't forget to review folks.
Mr. Movie Voice: He's quite good, but I'm still the best.
Sniper Wulf: I thought I fired you?
