[color=yellow][h2][center]The Hidden Village of Galdtuta[/center][/h2][/color] The journey had been lengthy, and it would have been even more so if not for Aristal’s presence to help with finding the village lost in the shifting sands of the north eastern deserts of the Sakabanatu region. For what should have taken a month at least from Cornwalkis’ estate, had been shortened to just a week, and then of course, having a villager from a hidden village certainly helped. As the small group consisting of Cornwalkis, Aristal, and an assortment of mules crested a dune, through desert scarves the group saw the small cluster of yurts squat in between two rocky outcroppings and withered farmland, the harvest time long past. Aristal’s face seemed to sink into sadness at the sight she once longed to see, while Cornwalkis, she assumed, wore a hungry bear’s smile under his scarf. His hungry smile was masked but his hungry gaze was not. It seemed to be pleased for the moment but the temperament that Aristal had grown used to, made its way back to the surface as he slowly dismounted. “So, this is where you came from? How quaint.” he said, hinting at sarcasm. Aristal stared at the man for a second, forcing down the desire to mention that this is where she was ripped from against her own will and cast into slavery, “yes.” Looking forward again she took a few steps forward, “we need to find the old well.” Her voice either teamed with defensiveness, or a forced urgency, but either way it was clear she was uncomfortable being at her home, shamed and accompanied by the man who leashed her. Cornwalkis piqued a brow, “You seem rather uneasy, Aristal. Perhaps bringing you here wasn’t prudent? I am sure a group of soldiers could assist me further if you’re this bothered.” He said, looking about. In truth, with him not speaking directly at her, it was possible that she only heard what she could, or wanted to. “I’m not giving you the story that easily,” Aristal answered, occupying herself with skidding down the dune without falling face first. The heated grains of sand tumbled under her feet as she slid, keeping her back to her traveling companion, in a hopes to make this moment feel like how she always dreamed it would. She sucked in the evening desert air and sighed, knowing the feeling of triumphant return wasn’t going to happen, not like this. As her feet found the flat of the valley where the yurt village stood she finally turned back to Cornwalkis, “this way! And we better bring some rope, if I remember correctly, we are going to need it.” Walking into the small scattering of yurts, it was clear to Aristal that her family hadn’t been there for a while, presumably moved due to the surfacing of their secret location after her capture. Her stomach sank as she took in the sights, where only the worst of the yurts remained among tattered fields of rotten crops. Against the golden sands the village was a corpse colored grey, fitting to the dead village. Passing a tattered yurt of hide and lumber, she poked her finger through one of the holes torn into the side and sighed, attempting to expel the weight in her chest. From behind her, Cornwalkis’ hand reached out to meet her’s as if to help her open the yurt. He sighed along with her, seeing another empty dwelling. “You mentioned a well?” he said while gently pointing her towards a stone structure. “Right,” Aristal looked at the man for a moment before following his gaze to the well. Her voice was somber and her shoulders drooped with a weight. Holding out her arms she quietly asked, “rope please.” Cornwalkis stood back before reaching for a long spool of rope, then handed it to her. “The next part of this riddle has us descending into a pit?” He had thoughts of her possible betrayal at this point. At no point in their time together had they been this alone, in his mind, this was the time to be as cordial as possible. Aristal silently tied the rope to a stony outcrop before leading it to the well, “yes.” She replied finally as she tossed the remaining rope into the well with a delayed splash, “the children used to try and get down in the well to possibly take the power to get rid of bullies and the like, but that obviously was always met with failure.” Cornwalkis looked into her eyes, “Tell me, honestly, what is this power.” he shifted his gaze to the well, “And why your people went to such lengths to hide it, rather than use it.” Aristal stared back, “all I know about the power is that we shouldn’t be doing this, and that whatever it is, shouldn’t be touched by us. No one ever actually gave it a form, or said what the power was, there are only warnings.” “Perhaps it was misunderstanding that led people to cower from it. Things are never what they seem, my young Aristal. You must go into life with both eyes open.” Cornwalkis said, smiling confidently. He then motioned to the well, “Lead on.” Aristal stared for a moment, “or perhaps it was out of respect.” With her words covered in a stubborn poison, she turned back to the well. Peeking down all she saw was a continuous blackness, only disrupted by a water’s shimmer at the bottom. Swinging her legs over the low well walls she held tight to the rope. Letting the fibers slip through her grasp she slowly let herself down the rope, until a cold water bit at her ankles. Letting go with a splash, she fell deeper than she expected, the water climbing all the way up to her waist. She shivered, turning quickly in search of some sort of passage from the pool. A dark mouth formed on one side of the well interior, and she quickly ducked through it and into a smooth soil floored tunnel. The tunnel was a tight fit, but at least she could stand. Turning she shouted out for Cornwalkis to come down. It didn’t take Cornwalkis to reach her, and being a tight fit for her was an even tighter fit for his much larger build. But he pushed on, nearly shaking with excitement. As the little light they started with faded, he rose his left hand up and with little effort, a bright point of light formed, illuminating their cramped surroundings. “Let us keep moving, Aristal.” Secretly Aristal was hoping the lack of light would’ve deterred further efforts, a childs wish, but one all the same squashed when she remembered Cornwalkis’ magical ability. Frowning by the light of his wisp she continued. Slowly the tunnel started to widen, until it was a full blown atrium. The atrium walls were smooth and covered in depictions of various deeds. A closer look revealed a horned figure riding a massive boat over the very moon, while another showed the same figure in mortal combat with a large and grotesque beast. The pictures continued down the wall, from the figure standing next to a crazed and golden haired noble by a tree, to the figure smashing the head of someone else onto the very same tree. Aristal was mesmerized, her fingers tracing the intricate painting of the figure riding atop some sort of mechanical giant. It was only after a mote of dust irritated her eye enough for her to blink and spin in pain for a moment that her eyes found a strange door marking the end of the atrium. It was at least thirteen feet high and stamped into its bronze face was the circular letters of the Sondoper, the traditional language of the Sakabanatu. “Incredible.” Cornwalkis commented, showing the first bit of wonder and respect this entire time. He stared in wonder at the intricate pictures but was confused as to what the horned figure could be. But ahead of him stood Aristal, gazing upon the door, “What does it say?” He asked her, trying to decipher it to no success. Turning from the circles she stared Cornwalkis down, hoping for a particular answer to her translation, “it says simply ‘this door is not to be open before the time is right’.” Cornwalkis let out a chuckle, “Well, there is a popular saying, ‘There’s no time like the present’.” he said before placing his hand upon the door. His first push was met with solid resistance. Instead of taking a more brute force approach, he examined the door. He spoke under his breath, “Now how do you work.” before catching sight of a pin and hook latch. “There we go.” He said, turning to Aristal, “See? The time is now.” His hungry mind began to race as he opened the latch. It made a loud clank, signaling it was ready to be opened. “Come Aristal, help me with this door.” Aristal held out her palms in front of the door, a disgusted and worried look on her face, “I really… don’t think I can.” Cornwalkis grew frustrated with her, nearly to the point of yelling at her defiance, but surprisingly took a different direction. He began using his entire weight to slam into the door, finally forcing it open. Immediately a ghastly chill overtook the pair as a grand, lighted hallway was revealed on the other side of the door. Torches blazed against gilded walls of alabaster, somehow not producing smoke or flickering out. At the very end of the hallway stood a podium, an item covered in red silk lay on top. Before the two could properly examine the rest of the room ,the torches suddenly wavered as a great darkness formed out of thin air. The darkness took form and a disgusting void colored beast came snarling out of the creation. It was large and almost reptilian if not for it’s rigid body being covered in slimy black chitin and it’s mouth filled with three rows of saw like teeth, eyes lifeless and cruel. Aristal yelped in surprise, reaching for her hunter’s bow, but then remembering her predicament and untrusting ‘owner’. Cornwalkis didn’t hesitate, withdrawing his sword and forming a flickering light in the palm of his hand, “Aristal! Arm yourself!” Aristal pretended to draw a mighty invisible blade from her back, staring Cornwalkis down from behind she called out, “okay let’s do thi-” Suddenly the beast let out a scream that sounded too human and charged at Cornwalkis, its clawed feet scraping against the alabaster floor of the hallway as it launched itself through the door at Cornwalkis. Cornwalkis shook off the surprise of the beast and thrust his left hand forward. The light in his palm grew brighter before reaching a critical mass and erupting into a solid ray of white hot light. The creature hissed and reeled at the sudden eruption, skittering backwards. “Damn!” He shouted, turning to Aristal, “Attack it!” he shouted before bringing his sword to try and somehow parry the massive creature. Aristal gave Cornwalkis a face before charging past both him and the creature. She slid on the alabaster and into one of the stands holding the torches. Quickly snatching it and couching it under her armpit she turned back to the fight, but as she turned a glimmer caught her eye. A razor sharp edge peaked out from under the red silk. While she sprinted over to examine the possibility of an actual weapon, the creature regained its pose and began swiping menacingly at Cornwalkis with dagger like fingers. Cornwalkis dodged the first few swipes but the creature attacked with a strength the likes of which hadn’t ever faced. The creature rose up to take what would be a fatal strike but it gave Cornwalkis the opportunity to dive between its legs evading what would’ve likely ended his life. The creature kept its attention on him and attempted to stomp him with its clawed feet. Cornwalkis found himself rolling from left to right to try and evade before swiping at the back of its legs with his sword. Cornwalkis’ sword bit into the creature's leg, forcing a painful howl. While the beast roared in anger, Aristal grew closer to the cloth, realizing the size of whatever was underneath was as tall as herself. Pulling the blanket back she gasped as a mighty axe, etched in runes unknown laid waiting. It’s metal was unknown to her, and it’s use was worn proudly on it’s shaft and blade. It was clearly a blade of a veteran fighter and has seen more battles than she has stars. Yet despite its clearly worn appearance, it still glimmered, as sharp as a newborn edge. She reached out to touch it, and as her finger touched the surprisingly warm metal of the blade, a massive bolt of fire came roaring out. The ball of blame crashed into the creature, and sent it flying out of the hallway and into the atrium where a bright flash of yellow exploded. Black chitin was sent back into the hallway as shrapnel, covered in a gory mess. Aristal stood in complete shock and surprise, eyes as wide as saucers. Cornwalkis crawled slowly towards a wall before pulling himself upright, His clothing, now covered in blood and pieces of the now very dead creatures scales. “What…” he said, confused and surprised. His gaze shifted from the bloody heap of the creature that moments ago had him at wits end, to young Aristal and said something he hadn’t in a long time, “Are you okay?” “Y-yes,” Aristal shook her head, snapping back into reality, “that… was incredible.” She leaned backwards onto the altar, making sure not to touch the axe again. Instead her fingers fell onto the bare copper top of the alabaster podium, feeling the bumps and ridges of more Sondoper writing. She turned to words and squinted to read them. Cornwalkis made his way to her, choosing to lean over and examine the words as well. Like before, there was no translation in his mind. “Tell me Aristal, what does it say.” She looked confused as she began to read directly from the characters, “Arise Harnian and retake your axe. The time has come once again.” Suddenly the hallway began to shake, the vibrations cutting through the pairs chests. Aristal was bursting with adrenaline and shock as the wave formed a headache in her mind, her eyes being forced closed. Suddenly a loud thunderous clap sounded and all she saw was the pink of a flash behind her eyelids and then, a deep throated voice yelled, calling forth her attention. Her eyes shot open at the words, “YORTORG, HINAN!” She fell to her knees and clapped her hands over her mouth. Where the altar stood, now stood a being of both man and bull, holding the massive axe over its shoulder. The great bullman stood at least twelve feet tall, and was as wide as he was clearly and proportionally muscular. Grey hairs grizzled an otherwise dark brown bovine coat, giving his face that of an old bull. Wise eyes rested above his snout and a grim what could only be called a bull’s attempt at a frown was worn below. Clothed in chain links of metal, straps of leather, and a massive book the size of a small human chained to his back, the bull man didn’t seem amused at all, yet ready for anything. “What… what are you?!” Cornwalkis said, consumed by confusion and awe at the sight infront of him. He began to edge closer to Aristal, who was the closest thing to an ally he had, who in the shock of the moment seemed to be thinking the same thing. “I am Harnian, hinan, I am Freg Gerntef,” The bullman spoke from his throat, “we have much to discuss.” [hider=YES AGAIN] It’s like he loves/hates her.. Like, a douche but caring boyfriend lol Meanwhile Aristal is like [url] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j4cWUcoGJ8g [/url] XD - Suddenly the beast let out a scream that sounded too human and charged at Cornwalkis, its clawed feet scraping against the alabaster floor of the hallway as it launched itself through the door at Cornwalkis. Cornwalkis activated the console, placing in the codes for god-mode. As the beast clawed and bit at him, he could only laugh before bunny hopping like a boss around the creature. Then, using console cheats again, he spawned a cannon. Firing at the beasts face, killing it in an impressive display of fire and gore - “So if I kill it, I get its [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gWOzUzJd6wM&feature=youtu.be]power[/url]?!” Cornwalkis’ epitaph. :D lmao () [/hider]