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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/FirstMovement|First Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT [[ADanceOfAngels]] |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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| − | == A Colossus Of Blood ==
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| − | The Boil long gone behind him... the words of wisdom of Father of Crows the only thing remaining with him, Moon presses on the Wilderness of the north - through two Wyld areas, through a river of liquid diamond, through mountains and plains. A week on the road, already... on to a cloudy, misty day on the mountains. All the flora seems like its covered in dew and droplets of rain and fog, and the greenish tint of the world contrasts with the diffuse gray emptiness everywhere else. But, it is calm. More than what he can say for most other days on the road in this world....
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| − | On the road, he sees much more death... couple villages, actually, sacked, burnt, temples of the Cult of the Illuminated broken to the ground. Not a very safe times... knowing that whatever did it, might still be around. And that was a thought when, waking through a orange-toned earth road on a mountain, he saw the black smoke somewhere past a curve, down the road... and nondescript violent noises.
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "Sheeyit," Moon snarls, his tread slowing to a stop on the road. Light flickered in his eyes, the air stirring around him as he caught the familiar scents drifting from ahead. Violence on the wind. Blood and smoke.
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| − | <i>Go around, shit for brains.</i> A voice chided in his head. <i>You've got more important things to do.</i>
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| − | Good advice normally, but an itch was already forming in his palms. Besides, he reasoned, where there was violence, there might be the Bitch.
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| − | That was enough of a thought to set him forward again and make the silver-white light in his eyes flare brighter, the swirling energy through the air around him becoming more aggitated as he dug into himself and pulled a cloak across his senses. The Lunar dove into the treeline off the side of the road and broke into a job as he began to dart from tree to tree, shadow to shadow, moving swiftly but carefully towards the sounds ahead.
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| − | <b>Dark Army:</b> As he turns the corner, he sees.... the road going down, down on a valley, and a village... and screams. In its outskirts, on the group of houses a walk and some jumps below and in front of Moon, some of these men - brigands, no more than light armor and glorified pitchforks... but a certain characteristic light armor. Black, religious symbol all over it. Same as the Boil. The Bishop's - finishing killing a man, and hounding a girl from whom they are already ripping the clothes of... a girl that looks barely a teenager, at that.
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> From a jog into a sprint, Seventh Moon drops the pretense of stealth and dashes towards the brigands with a challenging snarl. The Lunar grins maddeningly as he moves. Two steps, then his feet leave the ground, shoulder first in a diving tackle towards the nearest of the bandits.
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| − | <b>Dark Army:</b> Hit by the tackle the man 'oofs' and falls to the ground, startled sounds coming from all the others around, a terrified yelp from the girl. The three men around moon ready their short swords, looking at him without much thought...
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| − | "Hey, we left one out."
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| − | "Should have run and hid, boy..."
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| − | The one on the ground seems totally out of air, though, even for something like a tackle, gasping for air desperately...
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> Catching himself on his feet as he collides into the first man, the Lunar turns back towards the others and calmly straightens his jacket. He looks boredly at the one who speaks and at the circle of sword points around him.
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| − | It's the threat that does it. He might have just grabbed the girl and ran before, but then the one had to go and open his mouth.
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| − | "F'heh, from you lotta scrags?" Seventh Moon said, his grin unwavering. Leather gloves creak ominously as Moon curls his fingers into a tight fist. Moonlight flickers in his eyes as he hunches into a crouch, thrusting a finger towards the speaker, the tip of his finger pressing into the point of the blade. "Tell ya what Spanky. You tottle off and go finda drunk ta roll and I won't snack on your entrails."
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| − | He punctuates his point by lifting up a heavy boot and bringing his heel crashing down onto the face of the man he knocked over. "Sound good ta you?"
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| − | <b>Dark Army:</b> The foot comes down, and the man coughs blood, eyes wide open, before the pupils disappear in unconsciousness.
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| − | "Oh, so you know how ta throw a couple punches and kicks, and you think yourself good enough, boy? Let me show you what I do with kids with that attittude back home..." The one Moon touched the blade of, a dirty-blonde haired, beareded northerner, says, swiging his sword back, and down to Moon's torso...
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> The flashes of silver-white across Seveth Moon's eyes suddenly flare into a full fledged glow as the sword swings downward. For an instant, a pattern swirls in the air around him, snow-like motes of light collesssing into a pair of steely eyes watching bandits intently. The muscles writh and ripple down the Lunar's arm, twisting and hardening as his hand snaps up to catch the blade.
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| − | The blade strikes. The edge catches between his thumb and forefinger, slicing the skin and little more. A wound without pain. Blood trickles down his palm as Moon closes his fingers around the sword and squeezes tighter, the light from his empty silver eyes flickering against the steel as he barest his fangs mockingly. "You ain't home, fucker."
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| − | <b>Dark Army:</b> "You talk too much, brat!" Another says, a direct stoke to Moon's chest...
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| − | While the third one decides to just pick the girl from ground.
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> Releasing the blade with a growl of irritation, the Lunar twists away from the on coming strike, hurling himself away from the blow and towards the third man and the girl-child near-by.
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| − | Half-spinning away from the sword, scarcely feeling the breeze of its passage, Seventh Moon thrusts himself between the prone girl and the third bandit. No grace, no elegance, dust kicks up against his heels as he lunges forward. They're close enough that his arm doesn't even extend as he drives a leather-clad fist towards the man's stomach.
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| − | <b>Dark Army:</b> The man grunts as he is hit, taking a couple steps back. The little girl almost falls on Moon. The other two behind swirl around, two swords going for Moon...
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "Get offa me and run, will ya?!" Seventh Moon snaps at the girl as she falls on him from behind. Why the hell did she have to choose now to get all touchy feely?
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| − | Throwing the girl back with a shrug of his shoulders, Seventh Moon follows the bandit as he stumbles back. Fingers' digging for purchase against the man's clothing and armor, Seventh Moon slaps an open palm against the bandit's brow twisting up a handful of hair. A grunt escapes him, his face twisting with red-faced strain as he yanks back suddenly and shifts his legs to lift the man off the ground.
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| − | He lets out a howl of triumph as he plucks the bandit off the ground. Up, higher, in one great heave pulling the gasping thug above his head. Seventh Moon only spends a moment to brace himself as the shifting weight balances awkwardly in his hands. Off the ground maybe, but the bandit was hardly dead and he had a long piece of shape steel to wave about too. The Lunar twists and shouts as he throws the bandit towards his companions with all his might. Stumbling and falling to hands and knees as he flings the man bodily through the air, hair slips from Seventh Moon's bandana and falls over his eyes as he looks up to watch the collision.
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| − | <b>Dark Army:</b> The man hits the other two, with enough strength so as to hurl them away on a fence behimd them, and through it, the three men falling with the wires, pikes and themselves, dust and pieces of wood flying out.
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| − | And none of them get up.
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| − | The girl takes tentative steps back, far enough so as to run if need be...
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| − | Blonde hair, blue eyes, a common type on the north. budding breasts can be seen behind her torn shirt, a body just entering womanhood... 12? Maybe 13. Or an underdeveloped 15.... she's shaking, the adrenalin wearing off...
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "Yeah, thats about what I thought." Leaning towards the fallen men, Seventh Moon hawked for a moment and then spat towards them. He looked back over his shoulder at the girl, jerking a thumb towards the pile of bodies. "Buncha pussies. Wouldn't have lasted half'a week in the Alley."
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| − | After a moment, his grin disolves as the sight of her heaving breasts through the torn shirt remind him of how he found her. The Lunar takes a hesistant step towards her, holding out his hand. "Hey, uh... you okay? I mean, they didn't getta chance ta peg ya or nothin', did they?"
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| − | <b>Girl:</b> She takes a step back, scared. "T-they... didn't....they would...."
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> Seventh Moon's hand falls as she moves away again, something like disappointment and saddness stirring in his chest. He looked the girl over again and the feeling only grew deeper. Girl was the right word for her. Barely even a kid, and that lot would have done her hard and left her for dead. He'd seen that one often enough. Half the girls in the Alley or the House of Pleasures got their start that way. You had to learn sometime,
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| − | But it didn't have to be so soon.
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| − | "Sheeyit," he said with dark resentment. "Yeah... yeah, they would have."
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| − | Seventh Moon turned back to the fallen bandits, turning his face away from the girl just as the silver light blossomed in his eyes again. His shadow grew long as he began to stalk towards them, cracking the knuckles on one fist ominously. "Don't worry though. They ain't gonna have the chance to again..."
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| − | <b>Girl:</b> "T-t-thanks..." She says, not able to smile as he walks towards them, but wanting... wanting to see him kick them, impale them with those stakes... take _revenge_ for her! And her breathing, and the end of her thanks, is colored by such infurtiation on her voice, when the shock of the brutality passes, the anger comes.
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> Looming over the first man, Seventh Moon stares down at him with burning hatred. It's not them in his eyes any more. Every step changed them a little. They were people he knew, had seen and learned to hate. People he had killed or helped kill. They were everyone who had hurt the women he knew, the rivals who raped girls from the Alley before they were strong enough to defend themselves. They were the drunken clients who beat the girls in the House of Pleasure before there was anyone to put a stop to it.
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| − | Some people might have called him a hypocrtic for his hatred, after some of the things he had done himself, but those people would never understand the difference. And they would certainly never understand the satisfaction Seventh Moon felt as he reached down to the first bandit and yanked him up into a sitting position, the black hatred as he gripped the mans chin and throat, or the sense of justice that came with the sickening crack and he twisted the bandit's head suddenly and snapped his neck.
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| − | He let the body fall to the ground, wipping his hands off on his trousers. He looked up at the girl, then down at the other two men. Slowly, Seventh Moon bent over and picked up one of the swords sticking out of the pile of wood, holding the handle out to her. "You take the next one. I'll hold him down."
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| − | <b>Girl:</b> She blinked. Once. Twice.
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| − | It didn't take a third breath. She ran growling the way only an angry woman can, took the piece of steel like it was but a kitchen knife, and brought it down on the man, angry, face red, screaming, calling him a bastard and worse, and things that could only be insulting and not silly when said with such an angry and venomonous tongue, hacking and slashing like a drunken butcher.
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| − | And then, just as she redecorates their features and prepares rapist-beeef, he hears it. A sound like a cave-in on the caves of the boil. Earth shakes, as it never shook on the north. And again. And again... instinct told him. Something. Something big.
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> At first, he watches silently. His face is a mask of bitterness and his head nodding in approval at every curse, every scream, every clumsy, angry swipe of the sword that mutilates the man then desicrates the corpse.
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| − | One left. He opens his mouth to suggest letting the last one live, minus a few choice peices, when he hears it. Feels it. The breath catches in his throat as the tremors travel up his legs. The hair rose on the back of his neck. Not a cave-in. Not an earthquake. Something worse.
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| − | "Leave it!" he grabs the girls arm in mid-stroke, clutching tightly and pulling at her, already breaking into a run. He doesn't know whats out there, only that it can't be good. "Fuckin' leave him hun and move! We gotta get the hell outta here. NOW!"
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| − | <b>Celebrant of Blood:</b> North, it comes, through another curve on the valley-town. A serpent of red, gushing blood. A serpent larger than a house, moving like divine punishment, passing like an angry ox and tearing houses away as if they were so much castles of sand.
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| − | Debris, pieces of clay and wood fly, together with assorted chickens and chicken-parts.A cloud of dust rises. Blood is seen on it.
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| − | Another tremor, the shaking of lumbering feets of an unholy god. And then it appears, holding the snake, a chain. A chain that seems made of entrails. The giant, red, ornate, torture and death and creatures that shouldn't exist in the releve of it all. Crimson, deep red. Coagulated blood forming a suit of armor twice the size of a house. And it stares down, directly where Moon is. It is there. Looking directly at him!
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| − | And as Moon looks around, away from it, he sees something... is it? The entrance for some smaller trail-like thing... which might be a escape, unless it leads to a cliff and suicide!
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> "What the <i>fuck</i>..." Seventh Moon breaths, staring up at the... thing. And was staring back. That wasn't good.
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| − | He grabs the girl and flings her over his shoulder. "Hold on!" he shouts, as if he were giving her any other option, and makes a mad dash towards the path that caught his eye. Where ever it lead had to be better than here.
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| − | <b>Celebrant of Blood:</b> As he runs away, into the trail, he hears it falling... and almost jumps as it does. The chain comes down, exploding all the houses behind him in a cloud of dust and clay. In a moment, a whole neighborhood ceases to exist. It stops behind him, looking down the trail.... and laughing. It opens its chest, blood splatting everywhere, a gaunt, skeletical female figure coming out, and a multihued, unnatural voice goes all the way to where Moon is...
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| − | <i>"Run, run, RUN, little rabbits.... run, little rabbits, dogs and wolves! Run all you feel like it, it's pointless. blood, bone, and ebony are raining upon this land, there is nowhere to run, there is nowhere to hide! Run run run! Delay your deaths, entertain the Abyss!"</i>
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| − | <i>"I will be seeing you..."</i>
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| − | The voice comes with ill wind. Frozen, even for the north. Cold to the bone. But Moon endures, he lived a scary enough life. The trail goes down, down down in the mountain, for long a little train amidst rocks and woods... down it goes, until he is sure they are not still on their trail.... the girl shivers and shivers on Moon's back, having seen it... having seen it directly.... as Moon finally gets to the foot of the mountain, on the prayries of the north.
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| − | <b>Seventh Moon:</b> Eyes glowing bright as he runs, the Lunar doesn't stop or look back at the voice, but it's mocking words send a wave of fire up his back and set his teeth on edge. That thing was frightening, yes. Terrible to behold. Destructive beyond measure. But Seventh Moon had killed gods, hunted Fair Folk, and stood at the edge of death more times than he could remember.
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| − | Now, he was running like a dog with it's tail between it's legs. Bruised pride screams at him with every step away from the monstrosity and it's a physical effort not to turn back, not to answer the challenge with bared fangs and a howl for blood.
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| − | If only the girl weren't there...
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| − | The warmth and weight of her on his shoulder is the only thing stopping him. He's almost resentful of her for it, but can't bring himself to put her down and leave her to die. So, instead, he ran. Ran until they were far away from the village and finally nearly collapses at the foot of the mountain.
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| − | Almost dropping the girl, Seventh Moon leans up against a tree and huffs for breath. The silver-white light in his eyes fades out slowly as he settles his weight against the side of the gnarled old tree and slowly slides to the ground. "We'll stop here a bit, then keep movin'. Dunno if that thing is following us or not, but I wanna get as damn far away as we can tonight" he lulled his head to the side and looked over at the girl. "Ya good enough to walk for a while, or I gotta carry ya some more?"
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| − | <b>Girl:</b> She gets up... and shakes her head. "I... can walk..." She says, trying to get up, failing, then managing on the second try, still shaky, breathing hard. "My name's Anne..."
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| − | "Moon... Seventh Moon," he answers, turning his head away and tipping it back against the rough bark, closing his eyes. Where their should have been darkness, he found the world floating in images of blood-red and the emptiness echoing with mocking laughter.
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| − | "Sheeyit." he growls, smacking a fist into the tree with enough force to rattle a few of it's brown leafs free.
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| − | One landed on his nose. He curls his lip and blows it off, then plucks it out of the air, peering at it as his mind wandered for a moment. They were off the main highway now. No telling how close to Windia they were anymore.
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| − | Seventh Moon breathed in deep through his nose, searching through the throng of scents that assailed him for the too-clean odor he had been following for the past week. It was here. Faint, tainted with blood now, but it was still on the wind and still drawing him northwest. Towards the mountains and towards Windia.
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| − | "Alright alright." Crushing the leaf between his fingers, Seventh Moon heaved himself to his feet and stretched his back with a series of pops and cracks. With a tired smile, he held out his hand again for the girl to take and jerked his head towards the road. "Come on, Anne. We're gonna go see some angels."
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| − | ----
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/FirstMovement|First Movement]]
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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