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| Anathema; [Do Not Reply] Spring 2013 Short Stories: Fortune | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Wed Mar 20, 2013 10:09 pm (356 Views) | |
| Keelin | Wed Mar 20, 2013 10:09 pm Post #1 |
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TLDR Summary of the First Half (click to toggle) If the Eternal City of Nokpnos was a living thing, the towers would be the ribs of the beast, and all its denizens mere particles flowing in its convoluted veins. Putting it on the same level as any city found on Chaon would be as ridiculous as calling a shadow a man: oversimplistic to the point of dismissing comparison. Mortal descriptors were never quite adequate. Buildings pressed so tightly together that they appeared to be bound as a single unit rising up hundreds of feet – that was a tower. There were thousands of them. Walkways and bridges strung between them, high up, acting as a webwork of passageways. Entire sub-cities sprawled around the bases of each tower. Winged demons flew in packs. Someone could live their whole life in Nokpnos without ever seeing more than a sliver of the red sky. They could also spend their whole life walking through the Eternal City and never find its edge. Its limits were not truly infinite. Everyone knew that. Navigation was the main issue. Simply getting from Point A to Point B required an excellent comprehension of the city's intricacies. “Feeling around” just did not work. Asking around was worse. Maps were outdated within months of their production as locations were altered to fit their newest users. Keelin learned these things firsthand, but not in that order. She stopped at a four-way fork. The path split left, right, up, and inside. Spindly claws moved in the corner of her vision, but it was only someone closing their windows. The crowds parted around her. Slithering, crawling, undulating, walking demons gave her a wide berth, unabashedly staring. They made sounds that she supposed were words in the Abyssal language, but she wasn't sure whether they were insulting her or just speaking normally. She looked down. Not even the grime on the cut stone wanted to be anywhere near her; an inch of cleanliness rung the edges of her boots, contaminants retracting whenever she took a step. Her map took a full minute to center in on the sub-sub-sub-sub-region of the city she was currently in, managing to fold in ways she couldn't quite comprehend. Even though it was just two weeks old, the map didn't recognize this fork. It instead highlighted a three-way fork that went up, inside, and up-backwards, cutting between a spawning den, a fighting pit, and some other landmarks. Keelin realized the map was wrong, and that she could very well be in a totally different sub-sub-sub-sub-region for all she knew. She discarded it in the gutter where it was quickly broken down by abyssal mites and hungry rat-beetles lurking in the muck. Keelin went left on a whim. The path narrowed before it widened. Drifters reclined on either edge of the street. She approached a group. One of them was a demon clad in rags, hunched over as it hungrily chewed on what looked like a human femur. It clambered backwards, pressing its back into the walls as she approached, holding the bone close, gold eyes wide with fear. The ones around it scattered, and this one probably would have as well had it not been too weak to stand. “I need to know how to get to Tobazacr's supercomplex from here. I will pay you for this information.” The demon's stick-thin legs shook. Its ribs were visible, but it had a swollen belly. Keelin's face stayed blank. She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her sweaty cheeks and neck, staving off the effects of the humidity. When it became evident the creature wasn't going to answer her, she just left. This street was one of the first ones Keelin had experienced that went straight for a significantly large distance. That made her suspect it was either very old or very useful or both. Without knowledge of Abyssal, she couldn't read the signs to see what the path was called. Down the way, she heard shouting and hellish growling. Four demons worked on pinning a smaller one down, but it squirmed and struggled. Teeth sank. Molten sulfur bled onto the stone pavement. The victim looked like a giant salamander, struggling with the claws on its eight legs and gnashing its tri-hinged jaw. The thick layer of mucus it secreted made its attackers work harder to keep it pinned, but it still ended up losing chunks of its body. The attack stopped on the first hit. Keelin's sword bit through the first like butter. The holy light it gave off glowed too bright to look directly at it. It made a metallic noise that was physically painful. She flowered her hook-sword once, coming in with a strike that raked the hook across the demon's stomach, tearing it open. Keelin lifted both weapons above her head and locked their hooks together, then spun it – extending her reach massively. The third took a glancing blow before they all retreated. In fact, the whole street was abandoned when she caught the other end of her combined weapon and unhooked them. All that remained on the straight stretch of road was her and the wounded salamander demon. “Don't run away,” Keelin said. The monster was quivering violently, writhing in its own mucus as it vomited live olms onto the puddle of terrible-smelling blood it was making beneath itself. It turned its five orange-red eyes up to Keelin. “You are an idiot,” the demon gurgled in shockingly articulate Elvish, voice sort of feminine. Its lips pulled back into a bestial grin. “A mortal traveling unescorted in the Abyss, using the only forbidden magick in Nokpnos. I hope you die in agony, Stranger.” That was the kind of gratitude Keelin expected from a demon. She loomed over its pitiful form, a frown pulling at the gaping gold void of her missing eye. “I wouldn't normally give your ugly face a second thought, but I need a guide. No one wants to take my money, so you'll have to do. Now get up, spawnling.” Hesitantly, the salamander obliged. It was a truly hideous demon, one of the worst she had ever seen in the Eternal City. “Tell me what I should call you.” “Atastalaz,” it grumbled. “Tell me what I should call my slave driver.” “Keelin. But my terms are simple. I need you to lead me to Tobazacr's supercomplex, then afterwards to a portal-rift where I can pass back into Chaon. After that, you'll be free to wallow in mucus and get eaten by other demons as much as you please.” “I don't think I can handle your stench for that long.” “That's rich coming from you,” Keelin shot back, scowling with her nose wrinkled. They had been traveling for what felt like hours now. As Atastalaz had rudely revealed, Keelin was far more lost than she thought she was. Her bad map had led her off by a full sub-sub-sub-region both on the vertical and horizontal axes of the city. The salamander made fun of her inability to navigate Nokpnos, claiming it was a fairly easy task for the demonic locals. Later on, Atastalaz ended up being the first to ask questions. “The lesser demons were whispering about anathema wandering the mid-lower regions of the City, but many didn't believe them. Why are you here?” “Like I said before, I'm looking for Tobazacr's supercomplex.” “I know, but-- why? I mean, why throw your mortal life away like that? The only reason you're even still alive is because you aren't on a higher tower level. Up there, the demons are fearless enough to attack anathema. And Tobazacr... you won't even get two steps in the door. Not while wearing that priestly orarion.” “You're pretty knowledgeable for a salamander. You some kind of scout, spawnling?” Keelin leveled her eye on the demon. “Ah, well, I'm a secret-seller. It's my job to know what's going on.” It sounded proud of this fact. “And I'm not a spawnling, [removed].” “Which means you withheld information from those demons and they tried to eat you as retribution.” She shrugged. “I guess that's one solution to the overpopulation problem...” Atastalaz's multifaceted brow furrowed, not amused by her joke. “Why they attacked me is none of your damn business.” Keelin assumed the situation had been embarrassing, but she didn't care enough to pry further. They cut up a narrow ledgeway lacking a guard rail. Demons crawled on the walls around them just to stay away from Keelin. “Is there a reason why everyone avoids me? Even the scum on the floor parts away from me. To be honest, I was expecting the opposite.” “Corruption is the soul of this city. Every fiber of Nakpnos, or the whole Abyss perhaps, will repel purity. That's why you're anathema.” This made Keelin snort, then break into full-on laughter. “What?” “Purity. Hah. Demons certainly have a better sense of humor than angels, I'll give you that.” Atastalaz growled. “I'm serious.” Keelin made a dismissive gesture and climbed the last few ledge-stairs up to the new ground level. She was going to ask how close the supercomplex was from here, but her surroundings answered her. The blood red sky stretched above them, barely covered in this spot, and ahead of her was a huge supercluster of spectacular building parts. Brown and gray stone formed sweeping structures in all visible directions. The demons here were much bigger than the ones on the levels below; they were actually taller than her, often by over a foot, and were bulky and strong. Atastalaz slunk close to Keelin, which said a lot about the kind of demons these people were. Almost all at once, the crowds turned their attention – eyes, compound eyes, eye-cups, eyestalks – to look at the new arrival. She took out her hook-swords and held them loosely to her sides as a precaution. They gave off a pale, holy glow. In the Abyss they glowed so brightly that the birdkin flew away and the beetle-rats swarmed into the shadows in droves, fleeing. “Are you insane?!” Atastalaz spoke in a harsh whisper. “Don't worry.” The horde converged. The people sitting down in the courtyard stood up. Those already standing approached, cracking knuckles and neck-joints. Keelin stopped at the center of the courtyard, scanning back and forth with her single eye. “You must be lost, little bird,” they said. “Got turned around on your way to Azhas?” Little things like, “Its face is just begging to get smashed in” or taunts less appropriate to repeat. A simple statement cut above all the others. “She is mine.” The crowd didn't even need to part in order for Keelin to see the speaker. It was beyond comprehension; any description she could make would never do it justice. She thought its body was like a wurm covered in pale carapace, but it crawled like a centipede on spider's legs. Its foremost limbs split into multiple spindly appendages. It reared up above the rest, looking down on her with countless red points of light that were probably eyes. Keelin tipped her hat, a small grin forming on her face. “Who might you be?” “I am Hluatehon, the steward of the Tobazacr Supercomplex. You have a reason for coming here which you will now state.” His echoing speech sounded stiff and jerky, possibly the result of speaking in Elvish instead of Abyssal. “Great. Just the person I needed to talk to.” Keelin's grin widened. “Steward, are you aware that there's a spy in your ranks? A spy from Celestia?” The insectoid demon paused as the crowd around them thrummed with conspiratorial murmurs and the occasional outburst and accusation of lies. Several demons looked like they were about to lunge for the kill. Atastalaz cowered at Keelin's feet, secreting mucus fearfully. “Do you expect me to believe that?” the Steward rumbled. “You, a priestess of Celestia, expect me to take anything you say seriously? I could have you torn to shreds right this instant, so you will tell me now why I am not doing that.” Oh, she had her suspicions why that was the case. “This isn't a matter of believing if you have one or not; you just do. Sorry. It's the truth.” She shook her head, realizing her approach wasn't the greatest. “Okay, how about this: we make a bet. Demons like deals, am I right? I bet you all that I can find the spy for you. If I pick someone who turns out to really be a demon and not the angel spy, you can eat my soul. How about it? I know I'm anathema, but a soul's a soul, you know?” “You would wager your own soul?” the Steward blinked. “...Who are you?” The elf's grin became one baring teeth, eye flashing with mirth. She took a couple steps up to the looming demon. “I don't matter,” was her answer to that. “Well? How about it, everyone?” Hurried translations of her words flowed through the quieted group. Even Atastalaz was stunned and overpoweringly suspicious. “Cautious silence? I take that as a yes.” It was unclear what the major opinion of the once-confident crowd of middling demons was. The looks on their faces, while extremely inhuman, reflected confusion, hesitation, anger, and other emotions. Only the Steward was expressionless, as his carapace covering prevented the articulation of mortal-style emotions. Regardless, they seemed to oblige – or, at the very least, didn't attack her then and there. Maybe they were just expressing herd mentality. Maybe they just admired her guts and wanted to see what was going to happen next. As the old platitude went, 'the only difference between angels and demons is that a demon can't turn down good entertainment.' And Keelin made a pretty good show of it. She paced through the crowd, eye piercing into each and every demon she passed, the smile never leaving her face. The tension was palpable and she found that fact hilarious. “The angel hiding among you all...” The elf stopped in front of a fur-covered, almost batlike demon with bulging muscles. He took a half-step back, surprised and tensed for a fight. Then she twisted around and, barking an incantation, shot a bolt of impossibly bright holy energy at the Steward's face. The foundations of the city rumbled. Demons scattered, some diving for cover as a shockwave of raw power sent Hluatehon's cracked skull reeling backward. Smoke rose from Keelin's raised hook-sword. The Steward rose slowly, radiating pure anger. Its forehead carapace was cracked. As the demons around the supercomplex courtyard recovered from the scare, they realized that the blood coming out of the cracks wasn't normal. It was pure white, glowing, holy. “Berazamael, the Knotted Serpent, how dare you forget who I am!” Keelin screamed. So-called Hluatehon's carapace peeled back at the point where the hunter's spell had cracked it. Holy blood gushed down, causing the demons nearby to back off substantially, leaving behind a large battlefield. Atastalaz would have fled for the hills had the salamander not been terrifyingly glued to the scene; instead, it peeked out from a nearby alley. The giant wurmlike 'demon' appeared to turn inside-out, a grotesque transformation in which it lost quite a bit of blood. In the Abyss, angel's blood was one of the most corrosive substances known; it burned holes through the floor and anything else it touched. A face pressed out of the white-gold viscera, some kind of hybrid between snake and human features. Wings burst from the wurm, dozens of pairs of wings fitted to a serpentine body over thirty feet long. After it fully molted, it flared up a resplendent halo of holy light that caused the nearby demons to claw at their eyes, cry out in pain, groping around blindly. Keelin watched the scene with a scowl. Out of her peripherals she saw the world of the Abyss, the city of Nokpnos itself, react. Every mote of dust, every flake of rust, all the skittering vermin and hint of impurity fled of its own accord. The blinded demons could not see the temporary purification of the whole courtyard. Berazamael looked down at Keelin from behind a now-cracked porcelain mask, breathing quickly through its slitted reptilian nostrils. “Child,” it said with the gentleness and patience of a grandfather, “why have you come all this distance to betray me? Your vestments mark you as a priestess of the Path. I protected you for that reason.” The corners of Keelin's smile twitched. She opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by loud, intermittent battle cries all across the edges of the courtyard. Rallies to kill the angel. Demons flung themselves at the coiled angel, ravaging with magicked weapons and unholy spells. They latched onto every claw-hold they could muster, ripping into its body with intensity, damn the consequences of its burning blood. Keelin was not happy about this. She slashed at any demon that got in her way, even pulling them away from the fight if need be. “This is my kill!” Still, it was impossible to completely prevent the demons from repelling their clandestine invader, one who had managed to pose as a notable figure for so long. Berazamael was unprepared for the violence and was quickly pinned by the ripping horde, unable to do much except bleed and bite. Near the end of its life, Keelin lowered her weapons and stepped in front of the serpent's masked face. Celestial sigils printed over its scales flickered, threatening to die out. Arrows and bladed weapons stuck out of the entire length of its body, and the courtyard was scattered with pure white feathers. “You, the betrayer, are a far more damnable enemy than even the lowliest Abyss-dweller,” the angel cursed, molten blood seeping from the corners of its mouth. “What is it I could have possibly done to cause such ire?” “You may have forgotten all the insignificant mortal faces, but I doubt the... help you provided at Dagisoi Temple ever slipped your memory.” “Dagisoi Temple in Imythess?” Berazamael's eyes widened with realization. “...It's you. You... you were--” “Yes.” With nothing more to say, Keelin dealt an efficient killing blow. Atastalaz was afraid to look directly at Keelin for the first half-hour of their walk. She seemed in a much grumpier mood than she was before the battle. Finally, the salamander couldn't take it anymore. “Keelin, why did you reject Tobazacr's invitation for an audience? It's rude to ignore such a prestigious offer from an archdevil.” “I don't deal with scum unless I have to.” She puffed away at her cigar, speaking through her teeth. “You think we're scum? Well, [removed] you too!” This didn't elicit much of a reaction from her. “But how can you not be on our side? You hunt angels.” Her eye rolled down to look at Atastalaz's ugly-ass salamander face. Keelin took the cigar from her mouth, blowing out the smoke. “I'm not on anyone's 'side.'” The demon broke eye contact to look at the narrow road ahead. A horned raven made a terrible metallic noise from its perch above. “You're pretty [removed] up, Keelin.” She didn't answer. Kept smoking instead. Atastalaz set its attention forward, scanning for signs of the rift that would take the Imythessian away and release it from its debt. |
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6:58 PM Jul 11

