Dark Jack

From Downfall ReRisen

“Uh...” Ell hesitated, looking from one of his companions to the other uncertainly before returning his gaze to Enn. “I... don’t know?”
“None of these guys have been very far from Eighfour,” Kay told him, smiling with pride by the fact that she had been much farther from their settlement than anyone else in the vehicle... aside from Enn, of course. “In fact very few of us ever stray very far, and those who do spend a lot of time roaming rather than be here. But even I don’t know much about the other factions around here... I’ve always turned avoided anywhere that seemed even remotely populated.”
“Yeah,” Ell reluctantly agreed, “though if anyone knew where to go, it’d be Gramps. He used to be a trader!” He spoke the word with reverence bordering on awe, and for good reason; even Kay felt her heart beat a little faster at the utterance of that word. Eighfour had survived for as long as it had mainly by virtue of remaining hidden from the surrounding factions – something that had only gotten harder as time went, with other factions growing larger and encroaching on their domain – and they were all raised with the idea that people from the outside were dangerous and should be treated with caution, and avoided if at all possible. Because of this, people who went out into the world to meet outsiders intentionally were at once treated as if contaminated and like heroes. Trading was not only dangerous, but also incredibly difficult, having to not only be willing to barter deals with other factions, but also maneuver in such a way that they were not tracked back to the settlement after.
“But I have no idea. Honestly I’m not even completely certain that he wants us to run. He hasn’t actually told me what the plan is, it’s just my guess from what he has us doing.” Ell shrugged.

On the way through the settlement it became clear to Kay just how serious the situation was in Eighfour; every face they drove past was either confused, frightened or downright panicked, and a lot of Eighfourians seemed so on edge that they were barely keeping themselves together, dropping things they were moving from shaking hands or retreating to remote corners to cower. On one hand Kay was embarrassed for her faction, especially since she had brought an outsider here who was just having his first experience with them, and her fellows were making a pretty pathetic first impression... but on the other hand she could relate to how they felt. She was nervous, too, and deeply uncertain about what was going to happen to them all. Eighfour had always been peaceful, constant and seemingly eternal their entire lives, but now that their seclusion was threatened, that was all liable to change... In fact, with how they were raised, “impending invasion” was synonymous with “possible annihilation” thanks to the doctrine of using the nuke to defend themselves.
The trip was not long; once they got past the other wall of the settlement they had a fairly straight run to the center of their domain, with more and more people crowding the sides of the street the closer they got. What was much more remarkable than the people, however, was the rapidly increasing number of vehicles parked along the street, soon crammed along the street end-to-end while people ran from one to the next, checking to see that everything was working optimally. No two vehicles were quite alike, either; much like their weapons, Eighfourian vehicles were mostly salvage they had restored or repurposed, resulting in things that either looked like machines built from trash or amalgamations of several different entities. It made the properly restored vehicles stand out all the more, like the truck they were riding just now: vehicles that actually looked right and were mostly made by parts that fit together. There were other armed vehicles like the truck, though many of those were also improvised, and even several creations that could justifiably be referred to as tanks, but most were made purely for transport of people or goods.
It was at the core of the settlement that Gramps could be found, and the truck skidded to a halt – apparently that was the only way their driver knew how to stop – in the shade of an especially large tank that boasted two machine-guns for the crew to man beneath the unusually long and thick cylinder of the barrel of its main cannon. Though one could tell it was still mostly made from repurposed scrap it was in good condition, with the word “Parenthesis” written across either side of it.

“That’s him,” Kay said as she disembarked, pointing to Gramps, who was already looking in their direction even as he continued handing out instructions to anyone who approached him. Unlike what one would normally associate with the nickname “gramps”, Gramps was by no means frail; old, maybe, but burdened little by his age. He seemed remarkably out of place among the other Eighfourians; while the others were mostly thin or pudgy, Gramps was fit, he was muscular, and he was sturdy, ten times as masculine as most other men in Eighfour. Dressed in a stained gray tank top and black cargo pants, he stood 1,95 meters tall, with thick but groomed hair and beard that time had turned gray. He shot a long, hard look at Enn – they had stopped some thirty meters from him – before waving them closer.

The Prophecy

You're welcome to, yeah.

The Prophecy

I was sifting through some of my old notes for the RP earlier and came across an old entry for the Deo'iel Guide to Survival that I never actually shared because I wasn't entirely satisfied with it. I decided to just touch it up a little bit and let you see it.

Dreadmaw

Dreadmaw
Too few facts about the phenomenon known most commonly as “dreadmaw” to write a full entry into the Guide to Survival on the subject, but dreadmaw is still important and dangerous enough that the deo’iel deem it necessary present a mention of it. Reports of dreadmaw have occurred infrequently throughout recorded history, for as long as the civilized races have braved the sea, and it has reached mythological status among seafarers, representing the ultimate danger of the ocean. Whether dreadmaw is a single creature living for millennia or simply a species so rare that two of them have never been observed in the same place is unknown.
Though there exist many stories of ships encountering dreadmaw, the most credible account available to us is that of Vilhej'deo'calahuneth, documenting her encounter with the monster:

It was the eleventh day of our voyage abound for the lands of Rodoria, and sea was quite calm, with the storm of the previous day having passed during the night. It was well past sunrise when word reached us from the crow’s nest that a ship had appeared, and that it was moving to intercept us. We soon discovered this ship to be of Melenian origin, and we were beset by buccaneers, forcing us to defend ourselves. We retaliated with blade and magic, targeting their ship with fireballs and bolts of lightning, hoping to set it ablaze.
We know not whether it was the noise, the heat or something else entirely that lured the beast. All we know was that the sea suddenly grew dark, and a growl rose as if from the pit of Hell itself as inky blackness coalesced beneath the Melenian ship. The beast emerged from the water directly beneath the pirates, so big that the hull of their brig fit easily between its jaws and was carried into the air, held aloft like a hound would hold its prey. It snapped its jaws shut, and the Melenian craft was crushed to splinters by its fearsome might.
“Dreadmaw”, the sailors called with primal fear in their eyes, and for truth we have never seen a beast more fitting of such a title. It was a serpent of sorts, only with wings; I counted two pairs in sight, maybe forty feet apart, but no other limbs were visible. It towered at least a hundred and fifty feet into the air, with no way of knowing how grand a body hid beneath the waves. The sheer size of it had veteran sailors cower in fear, placing their fates in the hands of the gods, and even I must confess a sense of horror.
The mages pelted the beast with lightning and fire, but it barely seemed to notice. Lightning seemed to do nothing at all, and even our most powerful flames merely singed its scales. Quilsin had more luck striking it with frost, but whether this truly hurt Dreadmaw or simply enraged it is guesswork. Arrows and missiles bounced off its hide, and even liquid fire seemed victim to imperviousness.
I cursed the beast for attacking from the water, out of my reach. Something shot out of the creature’s mouth and stuck to Quilsin, like the tongue of a toad to a fly. The penin seemed paralyzed, but we did not realize that Dreadmaw’s tongue conducted electricity until Varnfol seized Quilsin’s arm and fell victim as well. The beast retracted its tongue and Quilsin disappeared into its maw, though Varnfol mercifully lost his grip rather than share his partner’s fate.
Dreadmaws tongue shot out swiftly and repeatedly, snatching my companions and the crew of the ship one by one and drawing them into oblivion, until Varnfol managed to get the beast to attach its tongue to a barrel of Quilsin’s finest. The explosion appeared to cause Dreadmaw pain, likely due to it losing or injuring the tip of its tongue, but pain only seemed to intensify its rage. It launched at us directly, opting to aim for the people on deck rather than the ship itself, and scooped up at least several men in one move, dooming them to a fate in its gullet. I saw my chance now that it was finally within range, however, and rushed Dreadmaw’s lowered head with my sword, reaching between its teeth - each the size of a man - and plunging the blade into the floor of its mouth with all of my strength. The blood that spilled forth was as hot as it was pungent, and Dreadmaw retreated violently enough to wrest the weapon from my grasp and sent me tumbling across the deck, nearly consigning me to the waters below.
The sea stirred and threw about the ship as Dreadmaw thrashed before us, seemingly frenzied and in the throes of agony from the wound I inflicted. A wing swept by and broke two masts, but otherwise we were mercifully spared the consequences of its rage. I realized after that I must have hit something vulnerable or sensitive with my sword, for even though it was enchanted, the beast must have had wounds and splinters in its mouth already from crushing the other ship. I have long pondered why it chose to attack us the way it did, too, rather than simply wipe us out as it had with the others; with its size and power we would have had no means of defending ourselves.
I never found out, however, for Dreadmaw retreated back into the inky darkness of the ocean, and I never saw it again. Beware, my deo’iel, for there is no doubt in my heart that Dreadmaw is the most dangerous beast I have ever faced.

From Downfall ReRisen

Even though Kay still felt a cold hand squeezing something in her chest painfully hard, a feeling of immense dread sending a tingling sensation through the gate in her head, she still found it in herself to offer Enn an encouraging smile and a nod at his reaction to these news. She was genuinely impressed with him, and knew both from her knowledge of Ell and the expression on his face that he was as well, if grudgingly so. The news had been grave enough that it had left Kay stunned, speechless and confused – her home, discovered and likely doomed? – but Enn had handled the shock much better and reacted just the right way to get on an Eighfourian’s good side: asked for more information and set a potentially achievable goal immediately. Most Eighfourians would panic in a situation like that, immediately assuming the worst and trying to come to terms with that, and the ability to keep calm during crises was one of the key aspects of the people who became leaders of their faction.
Ell bit his lip, looking uncertainly from Enn to Kay while the others on the truck looked to him for a decision. Finally he seemed to reach a decision. “Get in the truck, I’ll fill you in on the move. Kay-Gee is right; you two need to see Gramps.”
“I didn’t see the craft myself, but witnesses on the wall said that it was ‘small’ - whatever that means – and nimble enough to maneuver back and forth between the trees. It was fully VTOL capable and was seen accelerating quickly in any direction, even laterally, while using jet propulsion of some kind. They said it was triangular, sort of... like an arrowhead.” He looked at Kay. “Gramps doesn’t know where it’s from, so we don’t who we’re dealing with. We’ve tripled the number of people on the walls, powered up the flak turrets and were just headed out on patrol when we spotted you two. Everyone else is making sure everything is fueled and loading vehicles with as much as we can fit... I think Gramps wants to run.”

The Prophecy

Outside the southern gates of Zerul City

“I… well, yes, I guess someone did go,” Thomas mumbled, lowering his gaze to the ground and seeming a bit more deflated than before. “I’m sorry, but as I said we don’t even know if they’re alive, and there’s no one with them to document what happens or research how it works…”
“We’ll look into it,” Jaelnec assured him, frowning at the idea of however many people having gone to Mount Zerul, facing an uncertain and dangerous future while the people in the city – aware of the likelihood of these people’s situation – opted to leave them to their own devices rather than try to help them. And yet, he also felt bad about heading out to protect the people who had been able to leave and leaving afflicted at death’s door in the city rather than bringing them to possible salvation… it was by no means an easy decision, and as such he was happy that he was no longer the one that had to make it. They could not reunite with Aemoten and Thaler soon enough.

When Domhnall inquired about the destroyer of Nemhim, Jaelnec had to pause for a moment when he considered how to explain the situation, not because he had to think very deeply, but because he was taken aback by just how little he knew about it all. Still, there was no reason not to tell the others everything he knew, however little that might be.
“His name was Immanuel, and he was with us on our quest for a time,” he explained, grimacing in discomfort at the memory. “He was a human, but then… something happened to him. Technically I only have his own word for it, which is odd since I doubt he knew anything about harvesters before, but something turned him into a harvester.”
He shrugged. “Harvesters… I’ve read very little about them, and what was written was very vague. All we really know is that Immanuel produced some kind of living ichor like what Thomas mentioned, was able to mend himself after being cut in half, and became soulless. Beyond that, I know that the only other harvester in recorded history to have actually, uh, done anything, was a creature known as Sineater… and that Sineater destroyed an entire nation down to the last person and animal before vanishing inexplicably. They’re supposed to be invincible…”

“Hey,” Olan called out suddenly, eagerly pointing away from the city gates, “there’s Claw, you know?”
“What in the Planes – ” Thomas started, reflexively reaching for his runesword, but Jaelnec stopped him with a gesture.
“He’s the one we talked about earlier,” he assured the young Zerulic, glancing back at the lumbering furry beast casually walking toward them while everyone else stared, pointed or ran away at the sight of him, certain that something with such a bestial appearance was dangerous. “He got here quicker than expected… but I suppose that’s a good thing.”

From Downfall ReRisen

The guy who had spoken before – a moderately ambitious, irritable and uninhibited fellow called Ell-Oh, who Kay had had some dealings with in the past – rolled his eyes at Enn’s identification of her, and shot her an annoyed glare. “Enn Que? Really? That sounds suspiciously like an Eighfour name, Kay-Gee.”
“Uh, maybe?” Kay offered with a shrug, smiling nervously at the people with the big guns. Put like that, the fact that she had thought up a name for Enn from Eighfour tradition probably made it blatantly obvious that it was not his real name, given that he obviously was not from Eighfour, and consequently that he was trying to hide his identity. At least it also made it clear that she was cooperating with him, or at the very least that he knew enough about Eighfour to know their naming standards. “He’s a friend, Ell-Oh. We need him as much as he needs us.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” the assault rifle slinging guy said, throwing a glance through the window into the cab with the driver. “What’s the verdict?”
The driver glanced down at something out of sight from outside, lowering his pistol as he did so. “It’s hard to say for certain with the sunstorm, but it’s not pickin’ up anythin’ s’picious on any frequency in the scanner’s range. Doesn’t seem he’s transmittin’, at least.”
Ell kept scowling at the stranger trying to approach their settlement, but visibly relaxed a little. The other assault rifle wielder and the machine gunner also seemed a bit less on edge, but all weapons remained aimed at Enn. He frowned. “Why do we need him?”
“He needs to see Gramps,” she told him hurriedly, hoping to invoke an authority higher than Ell’s would defuse the situation faster. “Eighfour is in danger, and Enn Que has information and advice on how to deal with it.”
“Does he, now?” Ell made a grimace that seemed the very image of reluctance, and Kay had a strong suspicion that he was just trying to think of an excuse to keep his gun aimed at Enn. “And you’re sure he’s not being tracked? No signal at all?”
“If he is, it’s weak enough that the scanner can’t pick it up through the sunstorm,” the driver assured him. He looked at Enn and finally put his pistol away entirely. “He’s clean.”
It took another couple of seconds of Ell staring at Enn, trying his very hardest to think of a good reason to gun him down on the spot, before he lowered his gun, which prompted the other two to do the same. He looked at Kay with an expression that was a mix of annoyance and disgust, then back to Enn again.
“I really fucking hope you’re right, Kay-Gee, ‘cause we’re pretty much screwed otherwise. A drone came by earlier, hours ago; a really hi-tech drone. Came through the trees and then just blasted straight through the sound barrier out of here. Someone’s already found us.”

From Downfall ReRisen

“I... well, we don’t have...” Kay started saying, but kept interrupting herself as she realized that she did not have an explanation as to how the others knew they were coming or how they had managed to get a truck ready that fast. The garage with most of their vehicles – and all of their heavier vehicles, like trucks and tanks, which they did have a few of – was near the center of Eighfour along with the rest of their most valuable things, and truthfully she doubted they were even fueled usually, since they were rarely used. Now that he had mentioned it she even realized that the ground around the outer wall of the settlement had changed while she was gone, having the appearance of soil recently disturbed by a lot of traffic, mostly going parallel to the wall. Patrols, maybe?
“I...” she said again, slowing down her pace before coming to a stop altogether, her brow furrowed in confusion. Squinting, she could make out that there seemed to be more people on the wall than usual.
“Something is wrong. Something has happened.” Her attention turned back to the truck approaching them, inspecting the vehicle more closely as it sped toward them as quickly as the terrain allowed. It was the kind of smaller truck with an open storage area, the kind some people called pickup trucks, geared towards being able to traverse terrain quickly, which was practically a necessity in a place like Eighfour, where there forest was all around them. More important and remarkable, however, was the manned belt-fed machine-gun mounted on its back. There were another two people sitting on the cargo bed besides the gunner, each carrying what appeared to be assault rifles. “This is...”

“Don’t move!” someone shouted as the truck skidded to a halt just some ten meters from them as all guns came to be aimed at Enn. Even the driver jumped in on the action, drawing and pointing a small-caliber pipe gun at him, even though the weapon did not stand the faintest chance of penetrating the soldier’s armor.
“Wait -” Kay shouted, but one of the guys with assault rifles waved at her aggressively – notably taking one hand off his weapon to do this – without taking his eyes off Enn.
“No, identify yourself! What are you doing here? Who are you with?”

From Downfall ReRisen

“They won’t shoot you if they can tell you’re with me and that I’m bringing you of my own volition,” Kay assured her new friend, resisting the urge to add “I hope” to the end of her sentence to not have Enn worry more than necessary. “Pretty much everyone knows who I am in Eighfour; being ‘the girl with the gate’ makes everyone at the settlement pretty interested in me, though not always in a good way. They’ll probably spot my cart and put their guns away immediately! No need to worry. None at all.”
Stop talking, she admonished herself, trying not to worry about whether her smile was too stiff or her breathing too quick, even as she felt her heart pounding in her chest. You’re making it worse.
“Unrelatedly, my cart is pretty resistant to bullets. Just so you know.”
Did I seriously just say that? What is wrong with me...

All it took for them to get in view of Eighfour was cresting what appeared to be a three meters tall elongated hill of sorts with somewhat steep but manageable slopes, except that Kay knew that the “hill” actually fully encircled the settlement, functioning somewhat like a rampart for defensive purposes. She did not know when, why or by whom it was made, but it was so old that the forest had long reclaimed the presumably human construct, making it difficult to identify it as anything but a part of the natural terrain. Only someone from Eighfour would know... or someone who knew where Eighfour was.
From the rampart there was about another couple of kilometers to the walls of the settlement, but from the top of it one could see a great deal of it. Past the wall just see the two nearest flak-turrets, each with two clusters of four barrels pointed diagonally toward the sky. Some ways past those one could see much more livable structures than the wall, which were low, clean buildings, the smallest and most disposable of which were of wood, a few older, larger buildings were of bricks and mortar, whereas most of the larger buildings were of reinforced concrete. The roofs of nearly every single building had a cladding of dirt on which grew grass and brush, enough so that they could be mistaken for part of the terrain if viewed from above, even if someone did happen to get a look past the trees.
Granted, most of those things could not technically be seen yet, as much as Kay just happened to know. Maybe Enn’s helmet could zoom his vision or something, but otherwise it was probably much too far to tell details yet.
Kay almost wished that there was a clear line of sight through the trees from here to the central part of the settlement, near which most of the largest and most important buildings were, like their power stations, their primary armory, the advanced research labs, the hydroponics labs and their medical center. It was the oldest, wealthiest, most upgraded and most impressive part of the settlement... so naturally, it was situated in range of certain vaporization if the duke was detonated.
Intriguingly, it seemed as though a truck was leaving Eighfour just as she and Enn were arriving, and it took her several moments to fully realize that the vehicle was headed their way. Coming to receive them? They must have spotted Enn already... and, encouragingly, opted against shooting at him.
“Seems you’ve got yourself a welcoming committee,” she remarked quizzically. “That’s a first, I think. But then again, there aren’t a lot of strangers in Eighfour.”

The Prophecy

Outside the southern gates of Zerul City

“Recent?” Thomas mused, scratching the back of his neck. “The person being cured, you mean? That was a while ago, it turns out, but we only learned about it just several days ago, and it took another day to actually track him down. We’ve only known about all of this for a few days, really...”
Jaelnec frowned, though, at the mention of people being able to walk even with the Withering. That part he knew was true; most people did not even notice that they had contracted the pain at first unless the marks it left happened to appear somewhere within easy sight, and only noticed themselves weakening after a day or so. And even then... though the Withering was undeniably horrible, painful and debilitating, the weakening of the afflicted only increased gradually, typically not leaving victims bedridden until four or five days in. And even then, Freagon had stayed on his feet and scowled, growled and fought as he had always done, until he was literal hours from death to the plage. While it was probably unfair to hold others to Freagon’s standards – concerning this or pretty much anything else – it did make it somewhat unlikely that the city did not have even a few people who caught their Withering in its early stages.
“And the other thing?” he asked Thomas, gesturing to Domhnall. “About people able to walk, and family and friends being willing to help them?”
Surprisingly Thomas sighed at this. “I don’t even know where to begin... Firstly, there aren’t as many friends or as much family available as would be ideal, really. Not only has the Withering taken its toll on Zerul City as much as anywhere, but with so many people off elsewhere in Rodoria...” He let the sentence trail off, leaving them to reach the conclusion that a lot of people were left alone for themselves.
“But even ignoring that, I didn’t want to send them off without not just someone to care for them, but bodyguards ready for combat. I sent out word about looking for volunteers along the most public channels I possibly could, and though I suspect most Zerulics wouldn’t admit it, there’s a pretty thriving crime syndicate based in our city. There’s a very real danger that they’ll be ready to either ambush the people going to Mount Zerul and take them hostage, or in a best case case scenario loot the homes and businesses of anyone going while they’re gone.”
Clenching his jaw, Jaelnec had to stop himself from angrily chastising the boy for being so indecisive. He had to remember that not everyone had gained the same gruesome insight about what happened to those that died from the Withering that he and his companions had. “And if you wait, those people die anyway.”
“I thought the same thing,” the other admitted regretfully, “and decided to go ahead with the expedition after waiting for volunteers for just one day... but...” He shrugged. “‘Whether I let them or not’ is right. It’s probably no surprise that those afflicted who could still walk, and who still had friends and family... they left on their own. I have no idea where by Mount Zerul they might be, or if they even made it there, and I’m left almost exclusively with afflicted who can barely move.”

“As for this,” Thomas said, making a vague gesture at the refugee camp forming along the wall of Zerul City. “Yes, this is new, but the guards were stretched thin even before this. These people are from Nemhim City, which has apparently been attacked and destroyed by some kind of monster.”
“A monster? Singular?” Jaelnec remarked, eyes widening at Thomas’ words as he quickly ran through the creatures he had read about in the records of the deo’iel that could possibly be powerful enough to effectively defeat an entire Rodorian city.
“Yeah, just the one. Shapeshifter, apparently, with reddish-brown skin.” He paused, grimacing. “And it eats people’s hearts.”
Jaelnec instantly turned pale as a ghost, chilled to the bone. “Immanuel.”
Now it was Thomas’ turn to widen his eyes in surprise. “What?”
“A harvester. The monster you just described... it’s a harvester.”

The Prophecy

Outside the southern gates of Zerul City

“No one knows what it eats,” Thomas admitted with a shrug, “since animals seem to avoid the fog around the mountain. There are loads of people who think its long dead – last time it was officially seen was over six hundred years ago – but others seem convinced that Djubei is still alive, and every now and then someone comes back from the mountain saying they saw Djubei, or heard it speak to them, or felt its presence or something.”
“It’s probably a coincidence,” Jaelnec mused. “I have a hard time believing that some monster just happens to fill the air with something that cures the Withering. But if this guy got better, there must be something there.” He looked at Thomas. “So, have you sent anyone?”
“Me?” the boy exclaimed, apparently shocked by the idea. “I’m just the son of a count, it’s not like I have any power around here; I’m basically a glorified messenger. That being said, I did send out word that we’re looking for volunteers for a trip to Mount Zerul, for an experiment that might cure the Withering.”
Jaelnec frowned. “But you haven’t sent them there yet?”
“Of course not! We have people with the Withering literally dying to stand in line to go there, but I can’t very well just send a bunch of deathly sick people to live in the wilderness on their own. Most of them can barely even walk, let alone take care of themselves; cure or no cure, they’d be more likely to end up dead than anything else. Normally it probably wouldn’t be a problem to just send a detachment of the Ducal Guard with them, but...” He made a vague gesture with both hands encompassing the area around them. “The guards have too much on their hands already, they can’t spare anyone else.”
Thomas sighed. “I’ve been looking for healthy volunteers to escort the afflicted, too, but that line is about as short as it gets. Leave their livelihoods behind for at least several days, going to an area where people supposedly disappear mysteriously, and expose themselves to the Withering?” He shook his head. “There might be a few, but not enough.”