Chapter Eight, Part One
The nightmare was always the same. For night after night after the revelation of his change, John would always see the same kaleidoscope of images: fog, death, ships sailing across seas which turned into sand, the howling of wolves and the buzzing of the most vile creatures in the world. Interspersed with them were memories, it seemed: memories of slaughter, of red-tinged laughter. They were from the demon, it seemed, and also showed John some of the true nature of this world.
But that was for later. It was fifth night after, and the Spartan found himself getting up earlier and earlier in the night, feeling restless and sometimes quite hungry. He knew where the feeling came from and what it was, as he seemed to still be capable of enjoying food and drink, but it did nothing for the thirst. The butcher had taken to leaving barrels of pig's blood and other animal's blood in the tavern free of charge for the group's heroic services, and Chief staggered down to the closed bar in the dark to get a glass of the sloshing red liquid.
He gulped it down, gripping his chest as he felt his stomach rumble in pleasure, though it didn't satisfy as completely as the angel's blood had from Drognan. It seemed his body was still changing, but Drognan had no clue what it was doing at all. At least, unlike angel's blood, animal blood was always plentiful, and lacked the immoral attributes of drinking human blood.
Charsi had taken to sleeping with Fara in her quarters, and Chief though slightly regretting her fear understood it and wished her luck. She still came around frequently to talk and speak with him about the skills he was teaching her, and the two of them, with Cortana, often spoke and worked long into the day occasionally, but it wasn't the same. It was the division of souls, but the safety and preservation of this world took precedence over any personal concerns, as it always had, even when he was a soldier of the UNSC.
Cortana stayed, though, and the Chief was grateful for her presence. She had already showed them ways of molding and hammering the metal that would increase their durability over three-fold, and she wasn't going to be done any time soon, as she stated so proudly almost every other day. She had taken up his suit and gone out hunting during the night hours, being as she was a Lady of Light and didn't need to sleep.
Chief walked outside the inn, looking at the jewel that was Lut Gholein. It truly was a magnificent port city, bearing architecture that would have rendered the Byzantines and the Ottomans alike very jealous. John had gone to see the palace of Lord Jerhyn during the day once, and its beautiful alabaster walls with their intricate mosaics and gold trimming had overwhelmed his senses.
It had been during one of those visits to see the building that the Lord himself had come out to see him. "Greetings, honored Spartan. I am Jerhyn, Lord of Lut Gholein, and I bid you welcome to my fair port-city." He had invited John to walk amongst his gardens in the palace, and he had agreed, the two of them walking slowly amongst the verdant and lush vegetation. "I'm glad to know that once again caravans are free to travel through the Western Pass. Our supplies had been running low on almost all quarters, but you have saved us the necessity of eating our cats at least."
John smiled. "Keeping trade going is a priority, Lord, and is very difficult to do amongst the evil spreading from the West. Have you heard news of anything…unusual…passing this way?"
"Well, for some time now, we have been under siege by an evil power that I cannot identify. Strange... It all began when a Dark Wanderer came this way, looking for the Tomb of Tal Rasha. No one knows exactly where Tal Rasha, Keeper of Baal, is entombed, but it is certain to be far out in the desert. Now, my people whisper tales of the dead rising from their tombs and horrible creatures lurking amongst the moonlit dunes. Even I have witnessed things which I cannot explain." He picked an orange from his grove, offering one to John, who accepted. While the two ate slowly on a nearby ornate bench, John with his enhanced senses could detect the guards all around them, providing a cover for their Lord. They were well-trained. Jerhyn finished his orange, stood up, and while they walked continued. "Because of this strange darkness, I've ordered the port closed and all trade ships moored until I am sure that my city is safe. We have relatively safe passage from the West now for trade caravans and merchants, so food and supplies should be consistent now in their arrival, but the sea opens too many risks, for both crew and what might try to slip away on them."
Slowly, they returned to the palace doors, and Jerhyn blessed John in the ancient Horadric manner while they stood at the threshold. "Now, I must return to the palace. I apologize, but I can't invite you in. Things are... rather a mess right now." John had had no clue of what Jerhyn had meant, but then again it was none of his business. He had returned to his quarters, drank a pint of blood and continued his work.
Until Charsi had completed a new set of armor with Cortana and Fara assisting, Chief felt it would be best to focus on the more scholarly aspects of this world. Sanctuary needed high technology desperately, and from the looks of things they were already on the verge of a breakthrough. Fara's tales of automatic crossbows from further East, the massive semaphore towers, and the other studies John had undertaken of this world had shown him several things.
Lut Gholein, first off, was the best location from which to issue forth this technology, and the Rogue Monastery would be a close second, two nexi of services and goods with the machines he felt was necessary to introduce. Second, there were extensive copper deposits catalogued in the ancient maps, which had remained untapped as nobody could go and survive both the desert and the creature residing close by. John could solve that, and they would need those deposits for the cannons he planned to make, wheeled howitzers pulled by horses, and massive swivel-capable cannons that could be mounted with little modifications on the walls of Lut Gholein. Cortana had said she had figured out how to make a form of primitive steam-driven gatling gun, so she was going to show Fara and Charsi how to make those components and how to assemble them. Along with the cannons, the gatling guns would, in theory, render the city much more defensible from any attacking force, either demonic or human.
John retreated to his room, where he been writing down what he knew about primitive technologies and such from his teachings in the UNSC. Though most of what he had learned was of a military bearing, he had learned much about architecture and design, so John had been writing all of the standards he could think of, and constructing buildings with those standards. Though not soldiering, his mind found it a refreshing and certainly different line of work. Already, with Jerhyn's permission and the assistance of some of the mercenary Griez's men, they had begun construction of building for cloth factory with massive looms and such, to make clothing cheaply and in large quantities. Plans for a windmill and other facilities were also in place.
Plus a major revamping and redesign of the entire underground sewer network, John sniffed, at least after Cortana and himself took care of the creature underneath the city that Atma had described.
John sniffed, his recollections in the moonlight of his plans disturbed by something. He got up, slinging his Hayabusa blade over his back, and stealthily dressed in a black outfit of his own design, form-fitting but with flexible movement. He hid in the shadows and waited, leaving a wadded blanket under his sheets to mimic him.
From the window crept a black-suited figure, like his design but different. This one had armor plating and such woven into it, but must have been enchanted for stealth as he could not hear any rattling of the metal plates. The person had its face wrapped in thick cloth, only their eyes showing. The figure crept in through the open window, and the Spartan held his breath while the figure almost oozed in speed through the narrow opening. Finally it was through, and moved swiftly towards the bed, taking their sword and slashing the bed virtually in half with one swift movement.
Enough of this. The Spartan lunged forward, knocking the blade from the person's hand with a swift chop to their wrist, and a second blow knocked them onto the floor. They rolled and leapt, in one swift movement back on their feet, and from their gauntleted hands sprung three razor-sharp blades, like massive claws, extending from the top of the figure's hands.
John rolled as the assassin lunged, for clearly it was an assassin, the blades missing his head and eyes by mere inches. Whoever this person was, they moved fast. John pulled his Hayabusa blade, and the figure paused. The two crouched, in a standoff for the moment. The figure kept glancing at the sword, like they were re-thinking their options with such a massive and clearly deadly weapon.
The assassin paused, then lowered his clawed gauntlets, the claws retracting. The figure pulled off his mask, a thick sheet of black cloth. It was a male, tall and very built in terms of musculature, almost the Chief's height. His eyes were brown, his hair brown and short-cropped, and his nose was slightly crooked from a previous fight, but a handsome face overall. Chief hesitated, then lowered his sword in response. "Who are you?" he demanded.
"I assume you are the Spartan," the assassin said calmly.
"Not confirming or denying. What I want is your name, who sent you, and why you feel that the Spartan needs to die."
"I am Alak'hzar, of the Viz-Jaq'taar, the Order of the Mage Slayers. I was assigned by my sovereign commander to take out the Spartan, as he was suspected of possible corrupt magicks and their usage."
"Alright. Come with me; I will allow you to keep your weapons as an assumption of your honor as a warrior, but if there is any hint of betrayal I will cut you down where you stand. The Spartan is currently not here, but I know you do not believe me on that. Come with me and I'll simply prove you wrong."
"Acceptable." The Assassin picked up his sword, sheathed it, put it on his back, then accompanied the Chief outside the tavern through the door, like most normal people. "Are you a rogue member of our Order? You dress like we do, and move much like us."
"I am…not from around here," Chief admitted. "In my lands there is an order very similar to your mage-slayers, though they operated more as mercenaries hirable for a price to any bidder. Here we are." The two were at Fara's smithy, where he could tell the fire was still simmering. A proper smith never let the fire get entirely cold. "Here. I will show you what we are doing here."
John quickly assembled the components for gunpowder, then asked the assian to identify them. He did, with a slightly confused expression on his face. "But sir, these powders are all simple and commonplace. How can one accomplish with these what we have heard they can do?"
"Simple like this." Chief dissected a flask of finished gunpowder, showing the black sooty powder to the assassin. "This is the finished product. The powders are mixed in various proportions until this combination is reached. The combination will remain a secret, told only to those who I trust. This is what happens." Chief escorted the assassin with a couple of grenades and a loaded rifle to the gates of the city, where a startled sentry let them pass after a slight explanation. Chief lit the grenade, priming the activation spell. He threw it, explaining the spell part to the assassin.
The explosion drowned out his words, and Alak'hzar's face paled. "What devilry is this?"
"No devilry. The powder is very reactive, and flammable as well." He trickled a grenade's content on the ground lighting them with the same spell. The fire sputtered and burned along the ground, and trail of fire.
"Interesting. We have several traps we use with much the same concept. An explosion would be much more deadly, like explosive potions, yes?" Chief nodded. "Then what about these 'rifles' I've heard so much of? Their capabilities could not be without magic."
"Actually," Chief smiled, "they have no magic in them at all." He showed Alak'hzar a bullet, then placed the powder inside the barrel, then the bullet. "The powder creates an explosion, generating hot gases which push out of this one end at tremendous speeds. The bullet cannot help but be pushed to enormous speeds along with the gases. Watch." He fired, a massive boom echoing through the rocky walls, and the round hit a desert cactus and tore the top of it clean off, water trickling out. Chief walked up, unraveled his head covering, then drank the cactus liquid. He picked up the smoking bullet and handed it to the dumbstruck Assassin, who gaped at the slightly hot pointed cone in his hand. "That is the round I fire. Slightly hot from the gases and friction with the air, but the same. You see the damage."
The Assassin nodded, then paled again. Chief turned in his direction of interest, where he saw Cortana in his suit flying overhead, her wings of light poking out rippling in the darkness. It was a magnificent sight, and Chief waved in her direction.
"What the hell was that Chief?" Cortana shouted as she landed. The wings folded back into the suit, and she simply appeared as an incredibly intimidating warrior of the Light. "Explosions at 3AM aren't exactly your style. And who is this charming fellow?" she remarked snidely to the gaping Assassin next to Chief.
John smirked. "This, Spartan, is Alak'hzar – did I pronounce that correctly? – an Assassin from the Order of Mage Slayers. He came out here to kill you, but I convinced him otherwise."
"Oh, I've heard of you guys. Why did he want me dead?" Cortana faked a cold voice, as if restraining a great fury. "I have enough problems with demons and the undead legions without having to worry about the supposed good guys. Aren't you supposed to be fighting the forces of evil?"
"Um, well…" Chief could tell the Mage Slayer was sweating bullets, but let him stew. He got his act together a bit, enough for coherent speech at least. "We…had been informed of your activities in Lut Gholein and in the Monastery, Spartan, and had thought you were under the malign influence of dark magicks."
"Dark magic? Boy, you guys really need to learn your negotiating skills." Cortana shook her head in the suit in an exaggerated manner. "Alright. Do you have a problem with our operations any more? I'm simply making with the Chief's help here non-magical weapons to combat demons."
"So I see." Alak'hzar nodded, much less pale than before. "I shall go."
"Wait." The Chief walked over to the Spartan, whispering where the suit supposedly has ears. The suit nodded, then turned its visor towards Alak'hzar. "I have a few requests to make of you and your Order, before you go."
"Are you sure that is wise, asking the Viz-jaq'taar of favors? We do not take kindly to such." Alak'hzar stood proud of his heritage.
Cortana sighed. Very well, if the arrogant prick insisted. A sword of blazing fire erupted in one hand, and a flail of many thongs in the other. She walked up to a boulder, and sliced it in half, the halves falling smooth as glass. Second, she swung the burning flail at a rock outcropping, and the entire rock face melted, molten fluid dripping down hissing as it hit the fine dew.
She turned back to Alak'hzar. "What do you say now?"
"I withdraw my objections." Alak'hzar looked like he having a heart problem.
"Good. Now, in return for not slaughtering you and then tracking and killing your entire Order and wiping them off the face of Sanctuary, I want some items that I believe you can supply quite satisfactorily."
"What items?" Alak'hzar gulped.
"One, a complete set, fully-enchanted, of the Assassin armor that you are wearing for the Chief, something your size will do as you two roughly match. Second, an exact set of your weapons set, including throwing stars and your retractable claws. Third, a set of armored combat boots, the highest rating you can find, with the enchantment that grants one movement at incredibly fast speeds. I've seen those items before, and I know you can find them. They are not that rare."
"Is that it?"
"Yes. Also, I want you to bring those items to us, in whatever fashion you acceptable. No armed escort though, as we can kill you with our rifles and grenades from hundreds of meters away."
"Yes. I shall go." Alak'hzar whistled sharply, and a black stallion came trotting out from behind the bushes, with shrubs strapped to it for disguise.
"Nice horse," Cortana commented.
"Thanks." Alak'hzar trotted off, into the coming dawn.
Chief looked at Cortana, who finally left the suit. "So, what do you think?"
She shrugged, her wings rippling in the beginnings of the dawn's light. "He looked cute enough. Was he competent?"
"Enough. He snuck in the window."
"That small little thing?"
"Yeah, without a sound. Possibly a spell, but I think it was mostly him."
"Hmm, cute AND skilled. We just might have to keep him." Cortana grinned at Chief.
"Hmm. He doesn't have anything I don't got." Chief pretended to pout.
"Sore loser."
Chapter Eight, Part Two
In the morning Chief and Cortana had discussed what had happened with was becoming a regular war council: Drognan, Fara, Chief, Cortana, Charsi, Cain, and Griez, who had been recently invited to join in the discussions. Every day early they met and discussed what needed to be done, and while Cain had planned for a relatively simple hero quest, Chief and Cortana knew they would probably need so much more.
Cortana spoke first. "The Assassin was from the Viz-jaq'taar, alright? While I studied this world under Tyrael's tutelage, I'd read about them. They hunt down corrupt mages who have possibly fallen to dark influences, especially those who study demonic magicks. Besides, they had a good and detailed sketch of their appearance and how they operate, and this guy fit the bill."
Fara sniffed the air disdainfully. "An Assassin. Paladins of the Light have always spurned their kind. They employ the most dark and stealthy of tricks to achieve an unfair kill, while Paladins engage their foe with a sturdy shield, thick armor, and a firm sword hand."
"Any trick is worthy if it can garner victory," Chief admitted. Fara sniffed again, but he continued. "When I fought the Covenant, I employed every trick in the book, plus several my team made up, to win, at any cost. The situation here is much the same: while the enemy is weaker per capita than a Covenant soldier, they have numbers and unquantifiable magicks on their side. I feel getting these Assassins on our side is a good thing."
Cortana turned to the Chief, who was sitting on the bed. "I'm curious, Chief. Why'd you ask me to ask him to give you a set of Assassin armor? I thought you wanted to use a set of the enchanted plate armor for battle."
"Change of plans. I saw how effective his armor can be, and without my MJOLINOR suit I should emphasize stealth over raw combat endurance. Though by myself I am very powerful, without the suit I am only half that which I could be. Speaking of which…?" He motioned to Charsi.
She blushed, then turned to the group as a whole. "Cortana has been showing me and Fara how to make a very suit of armor. It resembles conventional plate armor except it is much lighter yet harder at once, possibly from the exotic contaminants in the smelting process that Cortana introduced. We've been working on it, plus Cortana yesterday came up with a system of small mechanical devices which should allow the suit to support itself and reduce the weight felt by the wearer, as with your first suit," and she beckoned to the Spartan. "Cortana described it as the suit's "great great grandfather."
Chief looked at Cortana, who shrugged. "It's true. While it lacks the strength and speed enhancements, the gears inside do make it noticeably lighter, which is good for pretty much anybody wearing it. It also allows us to make the metal much thicker, up to a quarter-inch thick in the main chest, back and leg areas. Combine that with lighter yet stronger metal in the first place, and this should stop flintlock rounds cold, not to mention anything else used."
"Very very good." Chief smiled; this was far better than he had expected, plus all of that was before the Malus/Fury upgrades. "With the Malus and the Anvil of Fury, that suit should become very potent. I imagine, Cortana, that you've been working on ways to make the suit as simple to make as possible, too, like we discussed?"
"Yeah. It'll take a few suits made, but I think we can refine the design enough to make it easier to make, plus Fara and Charsi have already been teaching their own small teams of assistant smiths. Why?"
"Lut Gholein needs to be defended, and I think we can seriously contribute to that," Chief waved at the map on the bed in front of him, displaying Lut Gholein and the surrounding area. Cortana, avoiding the sewers until Chief had an idea of to do about them, had been going outside the city on aerial reconnaissance, and killing swaths of demons as well. When she came back every night, she drew in exquisite detail all of her observations on an enormous sheet of vellum, which was over a meter wide on every side, providing for enormous detail. "Going by this, Griez's forces are outnumbered, and are currently spread over entirely too much area. If may made suits of armor like this, say, for your entire group of men, Griez, would you think that'd help?"
The old wrinkled veteran smiled. "Well, considering most of us're equipped with hand-me-down armored skirts, leather pads and such, I think it would. Certainly reduce the number of us getting killed, and the demons are rising in numbers. We've checked."
"Good." Chief looked up at all of them. "Next up, Drognan. What's up in the underground about the Dark Wanderer?"
Drognan drew up his reading spectacles and pulled a thick sheaf of ragged scrolls from his bag, cradled on his knees. "I've been researching the old records, trying to find the location of Tal Rasha's Tomb. Though I haven't found the Tomb itself, I may have a good lead for you. The great Vizjerei Summoner, Horazon, built his Arcane Sanctuary somewhere around here. He was a powerful spellcaster and kept demons as slaves within the Sanctuary. He kept a close eye on great events, too -- such as the imprisonment of Baal within Tal Rasha's Tomb. If you could find Horazon's Sanctuary, I'm sure that it would hold some clue as to the Tomb's location. Though I doubt Horazon is still alive, you must proceed with caution. There's no telling what could be waiting inside. When I spoke of this with Lord Jerhyn, he asked that I send you to him. Perhaps he knows of a secret entrance or the like."
"Hmm," Cain muttered.
"Cain?"
"Well, I recall from my distant studies that the Horadric Mages, after binding Baal within Tal Rasha, magically sealed off his Burial Chamber from the mortal realm. Those same Mages also crafted fearsome Horadric Staves and imbued them with the special power to open the Chamber's hidden door. After nearly losing one to the thievery of a rogue sorcerer, they divided all the Horadric Staves into two parts - wooden shaft and metal headpiece - hiding them separately to safeguard them. The Horadrim foresaw our current plight and designed the hiding places to reveal themselves to worthy heroes like you. If you collect both parts of a Horadric Staff and unite them using a Horadric Cube, you may enter Tal Rasha's Burial Chamber…I think." Cain shrugged. "Without a Horadric scroll describing this turn of events, I can't be certain of the details."
Suddenly, a boy knocked on the door. "Spartan! Spartan!" he cried. Cortana flicked the door open with a wing-tip, and the boy rushed in, a small dirty boy with dark skin and a panicked look. He didn't know which one of them was the Spartan, so he spoke to the group, not seeing Cortana flicker into invisibility. "There's a man outside, in dark armor and cloth, bearing gifts for you."
The armor standing in the corner flashed with a white light, and the head turned towards the boy. "I'll be right there." She motioned to Chief, as the boy ran to tell the stranger that they had acknowledged his entreaties. "Let's go; your presents are here."
"Good." Chief quickly got up, and the group moved out of the door, the "Spartan" first. Chief was becoming known as "the Chief" to everybody else, a companion to the Spartan, so he went behind him. The rest followed as they did.
Alak'hzar stood in front of Atma's tavern and hotel, a small crowd watching. The Spartan stepped out in all her glory, her wings fully extended rippling on the breeze. The crowd stood in awe, as did Alak'hzar. He remembered the last time he had interacted with this being, and he did not wish to offend it. He kneeled in the traditional fashion, and offered his two bundles of objects, retrieved from his pack mule a few feet away. "I offer these gifts with the blessing of the Viz-jaq'taar, the Order of the Mage Slayers, and they have furthermore with my advice blessed the Council of the Spartan in its endeavors to purge the world of the evil that resides in its heart." Alak'hzar stood, then bowed to the Chief, who stood in a simple sleeveless shirt and a light tunic. "These are yours, sir, and are the most powerful and sturdy armor that I could find, taken from one of our greatest warriors and repaired to pristine condition. May the blessings of the Adrim be upon you."
"I accept these blessings, and confer them in turn upon you and your Order," Chief solemnly intoned, his face reflecting his gratefulness and solemn promise as he had been instructed to do. This was an ancient Mage ritual, beck before the division of the Mage Clans in their solid oath to bind the Three Brothers, and Cortana and Drognan had informed him of its use with the Order of the Mage Slayers. He stepped forward, bent slowly as Alak'hzar had done, and took the two bundles. He took the larger one, unwrapping it, and took the layers of armor and with Alak'hzar's aid put it on. The armor was exquisitely light but strong, interweaving with the thick layers of silk cloth in such a way as to leave no surface unprotected. Strips of steel wrapped around and through his armor, and the ensemble finished with a dazzling black helm, smooth and glistening like raw obsidian.
Hesitantly, for he remembered the last time he had touched something shiny, he took the black helm and put it on his head. When on his head it moved, and Chief forced himself to not move as the helm configured itself to his skull for maximal protection. Somehow, on an intuitive level he knew that that was what the helm was doing, and he knew somehow that it would be a grave discourtesy to flinch or refuse the offer. Accept the total package, or refuse it. The armored gauntlets came on next, and Cortana in the suit wordlessly handed him the retractable claws, and he attached them to the upper side of the gauntlets. Cortana handed him his Hayabusa Blade in the sheath, and when he put it on Chief felt whole. "I accept the gift in the spirit in which it was intended," he said, finishing the ritual.
Alak'hzar bowed only when the Spartan in her armor nodded as well, finishing the Rite of Acceptance. He felt enormously relieved that such powerful beings had not taken offense to the speed in which he had acquired these items, but his Order had agreed with him as to the necessity of fast preparations.
The group walked to Fara's forge, where Chief disassembled his armor, again with Alak'hzar's help, and preparations began to treat them with the Horadric Malus and the Anvil of Fury. Alak'hzar started when told of the two immensely powerful magical artifacts, but was relieved when Cain showed him various historical records on the two artifacts, relieved that again dark powers weren't involved. He watched intently as Fara completed the ritual for the first time, getting flung backwards with an enormous flash of light like Charsi had done.
Chief took the armor, which was glowing black if that was possible, then put it on himself without any interruptions. He turned to the Spartan. "Spartan, I think we're ready to face off against the sewers now."
Charsi moved suddenly. "Chief!" she cried, as she had been warned to call the Chief only by that title now, and not the Spartan. She grabbed Cortana's invention and handed it to him, a thick piece of wood and metal. "Cortana's design, sir. Use it against evil." With it she handed the Chief two "clips" as Cortana had referred to them.
Chief loaded the weapon, then looked at the Spartan, who shrugged. "Cortana described it as a breech-loading, clip-fed bolt-action rifle with iron sights and a recoilless system built into it. It uses 7.62mm rounds, 20 rounds to a clip, and fires single-shot rounds, requiring yanking the bolt and reloading the chamber. She'd said you'd like it, and flintlock rifles are already useless, if she finishes it."
Chief smiled at Cortana's deception, then cocked the rifle, looking down the barrel of the rifle. Even with the metal notch at the end of the rifle, plus the primitive scope on top, Chief knew with his speed and reflexes he could easily out-perform most sharpshooters or conventional snipers. He looked down the tube sight, adjusting the focus with a small knob on the right side. It could easily look out to over 500 meters, an excellent design overall for such equipment.
He looked up. "Bayonet?" Cortana nodded, handing him one; it fit snuggle to the end of the barrel, with a good half-meter blade on it. Chief nodded, then slung the rifle over his shoulder. "Very good, Spartan. Thank you." He looked at Alak'hzar. "We're going into the sewers under the city to fight evil. Would you like to join us?"
Alak'hzar nodded so hard he almost yanked his neck. "Yes indeed, sir. I'd be honored."
To the cheering of the citizenry of Lut Gholein, the Spartan, Chief, and Alak'hzar descended down the trapdoor into the darkness.
Chapter Eight, Part Three
Chief went down first, the dank stairs slippery and rather disgusting. He swept the area with his rifle, then waved a hand, and the Spartan and Alak'hzar came down, the Assassin looking nervous. Cortana in the suit moved forward, and Chief turned to Alak'hzar. "How many combat missions have you been on?"
"Um, five, including this one."
"Right. Do you have any long-range weapons?"
"Throwing stars, as do you with your equipment. I also have two retractable spears, for surprise movements."
"Give me one please." Alak'hzar didn't hesitate, handing him the tubular device, showing him the metal notch one needed to press. Chief pressed it, and a two-foot metal lance punched out with impressive force for mere springs. Chief nodded, then slowly pushed the lance in again. "Very good. You tackle the light ones, if we have any, and I'll cover you with this," and he patted the rifle.
"Sure. That rifle…it looks much more different than the rifle you used last time. Is it more powerful?"
"Much, also more durable, easier to load, and this bayonet give it impressive melee skills as well, if one is trained to use it. With the scope, which allows you to see much farther than normal, one can successfully hit single targets as far away as half a mile."
"Very impressive."
"Shhh!" The two kept silent as Cortana, far ahead down the passage, motioned quickly for them to shore up the rear. They did so, continuing into the darkness. Cortana spoke to them quietly. "There are three levels to the sewers according to the city plans, so as to flush out waste more efficiently. We have to clear out all three levels to secure the area for Cortana's plans."
"Which are?" Alak'hzar said ignorantly.
"She has plans for designing a much more effective and hazardous sewer system, as well as an advanced plumbing system, which can be hooked up to the buildings above in the right spots."
"You'll have to tell me about it later, my friends. Looks like we have company." Alak'hzar pointed down a side passage. In the gloom stood three skeletons, somehow standing despite the lack of intact joints, probably bound by the dark magic in this place.
Cortana in the suit smiled. "Chief, do the honors?" she whispered.
"With pleasure." With three rounds, and a soft series of sounds, the skeletons exploded, their bones shattering and flying apart. Chief looked in surprise at Cortana in the suit, who shrugged. "Silencer, sorry."
"Tell me about it later." Chief shrugged, and moved forward. Silence is always a good thing.
They rounded the corner and came face to face with over sixteen skeletons, both archers and ones with swords and axes. Chief shouted. "Alak, take the melee ones out! I got the archers!" Cortana charged forward, her wings flicking out and slicing their bones into little segments where they touched. Chief fired a series of shots, downing four archers, then ducked as arrows hissed over his head. Alak was moving incredibly swiftly, using his claws to slice their tendons off, cutting limbs and such off, or sometimes chopping entire skulls off with swift sideways movements.
Chief's observations were interrupted by a shadow over him, and he ducked as an axe hit the stones where his head had been seconds before. He extended his claws and blocked the creature's limb, and kicked the creature in the groin, shattering its hips and roughly ripping the beast in half.
More were behind it, and Chief dropped his rifle carefully and leapt. His bare right fist shattered the first one's rotten skull, plates and before it had fallen to the floor Chief had taken out two more. The entire corridor was filled with them, it seemed, and Chief readies his claws and charged. Time slowed down and he dodged arrows by the handful, twirling and pirouetting, slicing the undead into more manageable size. Alak'hzar soon joined him, and Chief pulled out his Hayabusa blade with a swift flick, dooming the rest of them to an average life expectancy of a few seconds.
They moved forward. As Chief had expected, once they begun combat they would attract the attention of the rest of the forces in the local area, and sound bounced off of the stone down here very effectively. He had five clips in the beginning with a total of 100 rounds, but was down to one clip and 20 rounds when they finally reached the staircase to the next entrance, so he shouldered the rifle and switched to his "less powerful" but no less effective rounds.
As they slaughtered roughly dozens of demonic or undead denizens, Chief found the time to ask Cortana, "So, Spartan, do you have any clue why there are so many—" hackslashhack "—damned monsters here?"
"Well, I can only hypothesize that the evil started here because the Dark Wanderer, and the longer he stayed the more dead arose," she hacked several undead to pieces with her wings, then her flaming sword flared out and skewered a mutated cat-man on it, melting its organs and popping its eyeballs, reducing it to a skeleton in seconds. "The more problems we have," she finished. "Let's go."
They descended to the second level. Alak'hzar seemed calmer, as if facing the ones above he felt readier in spirit. They continued, and swiftly ran into a problem. "Archers!" The Spartan shouted, pinned by enemy fire.
"I got it," Cortana said, throwing a primed grenade. A massive explosion roared outwards, causing part of the decrepit ceiling above them to cave in, crushing the bones of the shattered skeletons. Alak'hzar and Chief shuffled slowly out of the debris, Alak moaning in pain from three cracked ribs. "Sorry," Cortana said, as she rushed forward, reaching slightly outward from the suit's arm, having the glowing film of her hand showing through the palm of the gauntlet. Like that, her energy coursed through Alak'hzar's ribs on contact, knitting and healing his bones, as well as rejuvenating him in general.
Alak stood up, feeling incredibly strong, and hauled Chief the rest of the way out of the rubble. "My thanks, Spartan," he said, bowing to the suited warrior while he retrieved his weapons.
"Ah, no problem," she said, touching Chief also. Her energy coursed through him, healing the dozens of bruises and such that he had. "Get up," she said. "Looks like a shortcut down." She pointed down, where a large stone had smashed through the floor as well. The three looked through the hole in the floor, and Chief casually threw a grenade from the Spartan's belt down there, blowing up several skeletons and some really large multi-armed skeleton mummies of some sort.
They jumped down, and kept going. They made rapid time, hacking, slashing, and shooting everything down there. Needless to say, the Spartan avoided throwing any more grenades, but their conventional weapons were put to very good use.
At least, the three came to a large chamber, the last which they had not covered. A veritable horde of skeletons poured out of the chamber, and behind, them over two heads taller than the rest and over fifteen tall, was massive mummy, with razor-sharp claws and a jaw full of teeth. The beast rattled and hissed in some hideous permutation of laughter, and it raised its massive clawed hand at them. Then it said, as the warriors fought, "Radament lives." Chief fought, his blade flick-flicking left and right. He dodged dozens, and Cortana in the suit assisted them all with her speed and her bravery. They kept Radament occupied while Chief unslung his rifle and sighted for the kill.
He had precisely twelve rounds left by this point. He started with the creature's knees, blowing htem both out. With a hideous roar, the beast fell, claws flailing and gnashing. The next two blew off its elbows, and the creature was left scrambling for cover, its pitiful unlife leaving it afraid for the first time. The next two were right in the chest, and they tore holes the size of dinner plates through its midsection. Now the creature couldn't scream.
When it lay on the ground, only its withers jaws pitifully clacking in its distress, Chief calmly walked up and fired the rest of his rounds, six in all, into the creature's massive skull. It's animal features exploded, and a brilliant outpouring of light erupted from the creature's frame. Alak'hzar and Cortana stood in awe, while Chief looked around. He saw several weapons in good condition, a halberd, three scimitars, a double-headed axe, and a giant crossbow. While gathering them up, he saw a large ornate scroll, and gathered them up too.
When the three emerged into the light, the citizens of Lut Gholein rejoiced, happy and exultant that Radament the Fallen was dead. Cain saw the scroll, and burst into tears. "This is exactly what we needed."
