False Heroes Volume 1: A Dystopian Odyssey Begins

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Chapter 2 - Debut under the fresh setting moon

Shame fills our senses as we look and see the pitiful fools screaming pleas. It makes you wonder who they are to, some god that they worship? The people around them to save them to live and be merry one more day? Or maybe just to themselves for falling in such a pathetic and unrememberable way...It’s funny how they cry being in so much pain but talk as if that they would rather have this be their end than something mundane...this is why adventurers should stick to what they are, that being not heroes in the slightest..but those three seemingly have a air around them, one that makes you feel like they have prepared for this to be their last skirmish...hmm let us watch as the new dawn approaches in the battle that is about to commence and see if the air around them is the only thing about these men that is interesting.

The three men still standing in the doorway looked once more to each other, as they do a tendril darts towards Willabaar’s chest then in a flash of embers Mountain had grabbed the putrid squirming tendril wriggling and writhing as his hand took the shape of lava, begins to burn through it until it is dragged back to it’s master outside.

Willabaar moves to grab the Dwarf but to no avail he watched from the open door as the human and his tendrils coming from a black puss mound on his spine pulls the dwarf close and raises a second tendril over his head, covering the dwarf with its looming shadow, he goes to lower it like the hangman’s axe cleaving a head clean from it’s torso but as he moves we hear a loud squelch of flesh and liquid falling in on each other, with no time to think the human turns his sight back to the dwarf but to his surprise does not find him.

Now suddenly panicked he pulls his tendrils close trying to form a protective shell unknown to him the dwarf merely held on to the bottom side out of his view using the distraction to block his presence from the beast. Using the momentum of the recoiling weapon and vaulting off only two feet from his prey, lifting his two war hammers, Mountain lifts them fast and true, leaving a sound reverberating around the area resembling that of cracking cobblestone.

he had struck the human on both edges of his jaw with these hammers and heated them on the way, showing him lift them through the blood soaked dirt lifting embers and lava chunks into the strike sending this humans head off his torso with such power the body resembled a rabbit’s after the alpha wolf rips it head back and forth.

Seeing it fly Mountain turns to Willabaar to see the half-mixes arm raised with mountain walking over he shouts

‘’Oh so you do have some uses!’’

Obviously impressed with his work while Willabaar gained a smile that resemble the one from the human

‘’You do realise the only reason you didn’t become Gnome paste in the dirt is because I intervened dumbass’’

The dwarf looked confused and remembered seeing what looked like very skinny bolts of magic missile fly into the up stretched tendril

‘’Oh big deal, ya used a magic missile spell, I could even learn that one what of it?’’

The half-mixes smile grew bigger

‘’Yes you could but not my variation, I use stasis magic with it to add a sort of body shock effect’’

As the two continue to bicker the head slams into the ground, the smoke begins to settle as the faint sounds of bickering continue, we see the eye open on the human head but now a brilliant shining white, the two stop the debate as they turn and see this creature now skin melting and evaporation into the atmosphere showed his true form, a mass of black and grey resembling the likeness of a Gnome with now four tendrils on his back now stretching from its neck to reattach the severed head already skin dripping looking now directly at our now confused warriors visibly shocked by their opponents new form.

‘’Oh gods….A GNOME?! THE PROPHECY IS TRUE! FLEE, FLEE NOW!’’

The abomination let out a small chuck that distorted and sounded like all languages of the world mixed into one. Slowly letting out this cackle going at the pace of an old dwarves heartbeat. Sending shivers down the spines of the onlooking men who seemingly can’t believe what has transpired in the moments after killing this creature.

’’Well Well….some creatures worthy of my acknowledgement at the very least, rejoice in the fact you could be anywhere but here being carefree! But nOOo you are stuck with me, Shitto the Fat, first step of the sixteen pillars of purgatory! Isn’t that just amazing? You get to be torn apart and played with by someone of such renown you must be overjoyed!”

His eyes of pure white scanned the area looking at the two now confused men and thinking his next move, goading them into a double charge and ripping through their torsos and bathing in their strong scented blood was his first thought. Suddenly hearing cracking and movement to where the door was once standing, looking there seeing nothing but a red, brown and white puff of blood. Dirt and dust spiralling like that of something starting their charge at the speed of light, eyes wide now he hears rustling in the tall oaks to his right and in one smooth motion moves his two right sided tendrils in tandem side winding swing that cuts the two trees clean in two.

He didn’t see any blood, Knowing the one making the noise was uninjured, severely at least and was probably planning his attack, closing his eyes and listening to the surroundings. Trying to hear everything, the soft whistle of the new mourning gale, the scattering of dead leaves crumpling and gliding along the grass all coming together as the trees finally hit the ground with a monstrous thud. Dust now flies into the red sky as the new dawn approaches, making its first appearance in the day, turning slightly towards the thud Shitto then hears. A similar sound he heard in the bar, swiftly turning his head and seeing the same color blur moving towards him of green and purple. Using his two free left sided tendrils for a high-low swing, trying to cut of the half-mixes movements, scaping one along the dirt and one smashing through the tree line behind him, Willabaar in one swift motion pivots his foot, exhales heavily

‘’The will of man is found in all aspects’’

He then opens his eyes now both shining with flare and vigor as he uses his pivot to twist and shoot through the sky gripping his staff from his side and lifting it ready to strike going through both the tendrils as the narrowly miss crushing the young warrior

‘’Mine is found in the solidarity of the void!’

As the staff of old oak catches ablaze with a flame blacker than the unused coals dragged from the ground. Connecting with the central back of his head, hitting down and as his eyes glazed over, he sees a red dwarf spiralling there with embers floating off his now searing white hot war hammers. Throwing them up and connecting both with his eyes making the sound of a newborn child in agonizing pain. Throwing this creature back through five oak trees, old and tall. Falling onto him, pulverizing his contorted mess of a shell.

Our warriors stand triumphantly looking towards the pill of trees making the shape of a stacked wood bonfire. Letting out faint smiles of pride, turning to face each other, letting out bellowing laughs and shaking hands at the elbow. The dust and dirt falls on the battlefield. The laughter was broken as they heard a loud shrieking coming from the two first fallen trees

’’WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!

Willabaar and Mountain turn both left and right but cannot seem to see the source of the sound,

‘’DOWN HERE FUCKERS!’’

Feeling a pain on the top of their heads, like a child being disciplined back in the third era they look down to see a middle aged Goblin, Greenish brown skin matching that of an autumn field and eyes darkened grey and white looking like the storm atop the battlefield. A human sized short sword that to him looked like a longsword strapped to his back and a patchy beard of a chestnut brown. The two men looked puzzled by why this Goblin seemed so angry with them after their deeds,

‘’Uhm...listen Goblin we just saved this WHOLE AREA! Be more grateful’’

Willabaar says as he pulls one of his bags from his waist and whispers softly to the bag watching it open like a new blooming rose watching both Mountain and the now speechless Goblin staring like children at the local magic show at a young age as the bag revealed to contain ten shining gold Dragons The goblin looked angry and definitely sounded like it,

‘’Oh did you?’’

His voice cracking in softness like a person whose mind has shattered from reality, pointing to the first of the fallen trees to land,

‘’Then please dooo tell me great HERO’’

The sarcasm rising more with every word,

‘’Why is it MY home is now ruined, the bar behind you RUINED AND EVERYONE AROUND HERE IS DEAD! HOW DO PLAN TO ATONE FOR THI-’

‘’Are YOU hurt?’’

The goblin becomes speechless once more as these two half-mixes had no bravado in their voice, seemingly meaning what they asked,

‘’N...N-NO BUT WHAT OFF THE REST?!’’

‘’What else do ya want? Your alive and so are we….For War’s sake..Willabaar...the ooze is starting to get up’’

As the three men turn their heads with extreme speed they see the black ooze that once stood before them slowly seeping it’s way out through the crevices between the splintered giant oaks that landed atop him as from the very top a flat and malformed head eeks through and sputters out to them

‘’AHAHAHAHA’’

The cackle came out broken and slurred, the creatures jaw hanging on by one oozing thread,

’’MHOR! I WHNT MHOR! FEEEED MEEEE!!

‘’I WILL OBLIGE MY BROTHER OF THE MOON!’’

As a flash of white and grey glides past the conorted mess making home inside the tinder box of giants, as Kyu appears in front of the creature he pulls a candle from his sleeve and tosses it towards the face of the abomination,

’’NOW LORD BEE HURRY!

The demons eyes shined, now twisting and spluttering like actual flames had taken over his Iris, he lifts his palm to face, that of the candle and bellowed a incantation,

‘’HELLS FIRE BURNS THOSE NOT BORN TO ITS RADIANT HEAT!’’

The words finished, the candle takes a full fiery shape, starting to spread like a fire on dead leaves around the oaks that had made a natural tinder box around Shitto, Kyu was now flying towards his comrades, turning and clasping his hands together to utter his own incantation,

‘’Return now to the source of thy creators throne be cleansed in the sins of thyn passionate making’’

As the words leave the fallen ones mouth. Dark flowing flames of hell seemingly shined up from its central point, spreading out and becoming a burning bright orange, engulfing this creature whole as it lets out screams off both pain and pleasure simultaneously, the Goblin watched on with awe at what he just saw, a group of adventurers take on extremely unfair odds and actually start to make a fight out of this, his mind filling with hope for the first time in decades wondering their next move he turned to them and smile and with happiness in his voice says

‘’We can actually do this! Let’s finish him while he is down!’’

The goblin was grabbed on the shoulder by Willabaar. As he turns to look at his new signal of hope, face cracking back to despair, seeing the dwarf and Azamaar heading back inside and the half-mix standing cold in the eyes,

‘’If you want to live another day we need to move now! We will pray for the lost when we ourselves are not at risk of joining them! move!’’

The goblin seemed frozen, his resurging blaze of belief in the age of real heroes already daust to a wet pit of coals,without even a whimper, the Goblin was lifted onto the half-mixes back and moving further from the godly bonfire with a core straight from the lowest depths of hell’s layers.

As the Goblin faded in and out of consciousness he loses sight in the darkness of the forest seeing no more than dark brown blurs in the rising son of dawn and sounds of Shitto faintly still in the distance still with that nauseating feeling of his sadistic cackle.

As the new day rises and closes the curtains on this world’s new act we see our four men now surrounding a campfire after running to a nearby stable that Kyuwin remembered seeing on his travels into the establishment that now resembled nothing more than an old wreckage of war as they were leaving. The fallen angel takes out a familiar stubby candle from his robe sleeves and places it in front of the navy blue lake and taking a stance of prayer, the Goblin looked more angry than he had this whole event gritting his teeth so hard we see little specks of brilliant whiye and a murky yellow fall to the ground like dancing snowflakes

‘’WHAT RIGHT DO YOU HAVE HUH?!’’

The goblin’s voice, now a quivered scream of rage, Kyuwin glances with the side of his eye to see the goblin, A face of a raging barbarian after losing his comrades,

’’HUH?! WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO DECIDE WHAT GOD THEIR PRAYERS OF SALVATION SHOULD GO TO?!

The goblin paused, taking a deep breath. Composing his thoughts, looking up at the kneeling Azamaar, Kyuwin looked over the lake with no emotion shown from his body but swiftly snaps back to face the goblin,

‘’If I do not offer them peace they will roam forever more. Creating the Banshees, the Shades and creatures forged from their own twisted loneliness. Yoru tasked me with leading them to her welcoming arctic embrace and would not be pleased with that letting her children of the moon suffer.’’

The Goblins face turned from that of sheer disbelief, A fallen angel could say something so unpaious and against the norms of his life, the society he has grown to follow. Trying not to let his pure hot hatred start seeping from his Silver lined eyes. He knew this Azamaar meant every word with his facial expression and body language agreeing with the statement,

‘’So you’ll send them to what could be their idea of ? Just so you feel better about your own faith?’’

The goblin’s voice sounded almost like a whisper. Cracking and breaking with every other word leaving him. Kyuuwin again looked over the lake, taking his time to study the waters ripples before slowly turning his head towards the small creature in front of him

‘’Why not? Would you rather wish for these poor souls to wander for eternity? All I do is be the medium for Yoru to sav-’’

The hand around his neck tightened as another came flying towards the pale face, still cold and devoid of emotions until a slap of skin on skin sent a loud crack through the tree line sending crows flying in all directions. The goblin looked up to see Willabaar standing over him holding his fist with ease inside his own, The half mix also looked as if all emotion he had once showed seeped through him, he kneeled to meet eyes with the Goblin, expecting a strike the goblin closed his eyes and prepared for this to be the end of his tale until he heard it,

‘’The name is Willabaar by the way what is yours?’’

A smile reappeared on Willabaar’s face. The goblin seemed more and more confused, believing this to be a trap. Trying to wrench his arm free from the half-Orcish strength, as Willabaar’s face goes to that of disdain at the same time we hear a snap, the goblin’s eyes widen, struggling to let out noises,

‘’Once again….I’m Willabaar D. Price’’

He was now speaking directly in the goblin’s pointed ear, wrenching the arm further back,

‘’And yours? We did save you after all’’

The goblin realised swiftly...these men may be strong but have drive of their own except to live, thinking fast he decides to use them to get to a place of safety so reluctantly begins to speak in a soft tone and answers the question.

‘’I’m sorry...I..I don’t know what I will do with myself any more….I lived in that tree for two decades now, My name is Wilt...Wilt Grove..Heh...pretty cheap rent for a hundred foot tree ya know? Ya meet Aarc? The big old Orc who owned the place? Was a great guy really...such a great fighter in his day! But damn I saw him throw plenty of Goliaths and Dragonborn out on many occasion...nearly knocked my tree down...ha...old coot prolly to many blows to that small Orcish noggin....’’

He continued to only silent faces as Willabaar looked off into the lake slightly squirted, averting the rest looking at him but Wilt seemingly noticed the pain in his Violet eye,

‘’So Willabaar was it? What a weird name haha...did ya see the old man in the ruckus? Bet he is in Sobitori but he hates the Seven Sands.. Or Nomadir with those elves...maybe I’ll go there to meet him there...live in two hundred foot trees...moving up literally he is prolly there by now..’’

His smile no aimed towards the half-mix who said only one word to man, obviously trying to make himself feel better, turning and now sat in front of him, taking a drinking pouch from his hip, glug apon glug later he finally speaks

‘’Aye...He was the first to be killed by that thing...He looked me in the eyes as it happened….’’

He saw the goblins face, distraught by the news, grinding his teeth again,

‘’Oh and before you think you can try and hit me. I ain’t that worried about the reasonings...tell me gob-...Wilt do you think anyone in that place would have done different?’’

The goblin froze again, this man had a ability of speech that seems to freeze his very soul

‘’O...O-OF COURSE THE-’’

‘’Wrong.’’

Willabaar looked directly at Wilt, trying to burn away his resolve as he lent closer again,

‘’The only difference is that they would have ran a lot quicker and you...you wouldn’t be standing here.’’

Wilt knew this to be true, head now slumped, staring at the dancing wisps of the campfire as Willabaar turns, now facing Mountain,

’’How many then? How close?

Wilt turned confused at this,

’’About seven or eight….think it’s my old ‘friends’ to…’’convince me’ to come with them’’

Bandit’s aye?’’

Willabaar let out his demonic smile once again before swinging to Wilt

‘’What was it you called us again Wilt?...ah yes’’

He nodded at both Kyu and Mountain. The dwarf takes the goblin into the surrounding brush then the fallen angel begins to fly through the treeline, after being alone Willabaar’s smile extends cheek to cheek, cackling slowly under his breath

‘’False Heroes....I like it’’

Ah the social escapades of a newly formed adventure party realising the strain and toll on their mind, body and soul...But like I said last time the men together seem to have formed a bond through their wills and desire to live at least but now in this big open and brutally uncivilised world they might be able to pull themselves closer to the strings of fate and finally take the mantle they have adopted as their name and be able to call themselves not False Heroes, but True Saviors.

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