Vengeance - Chapter 1

The last of the cold winds of winter whipped through the streets of the city Wyrvenak. Spring would be on its way soon, but it didn’t feel like it to most.

            Wyrvenak. I’ve never liked this place, Zilfer thought as he wandered the near empty streets of the early morning. Everyone that lives here is either a killer or a gambler; they don’t even have a city wall. This is no place to call home, just a place for scum to fester.

            It had been a four day walk from Procka for Zilfer to make it to the party city. Numerous times had be thanked the higher powers for his dark skin and barbarian ancestry, for the twenty four hours of sun beating on a man’s skin and the twenty four hours of frigid moonlight freezing his bones would have stopped a normal being. But not Zilfer.

            As he walked through town, there was almost no one on the streets, but he passed a young woman that seemed very close to his age of twenty-one. She was covered in religious tattoos and he asked, “Miss, it has been a very long time since I have visited this place, does Wyrvenak have a town guard?”

            She turned her raven haired head toward him and said quietly, “No, we watch over ourselves in Wyrvenak.” She then turned and hurried away.

            Zilfer shook his head as he watched her go, The people in this town are so untrusting of each other that they can’t even have a simple conversation without thinking the other person is going to pick their pocket or kill them.

            Casting aside his negative thoughts of the girl, he looked into the distance to his destination. In the morning mist he could barely make out the mountain just outside the city. It was colossal is height but relatively small in width. There were two main peaks that were very close together with many smaller ones in between and on the sides. Its close resemblance to a jaw had given it the simple name Wyrvenak’s Teeth. That was where Mavric Zakainhi lived.

            Steeling himself, Zilfer jogged off toward the mountains. This will certainly be interesting, he thought warily as he took his first steps up the path.

            The sun was on its way down when he finally caught sight of what he was looking for. When Mavric exiled himself to the mountains, Zilfer had assumed he would be living in some kind of hut or cave. He was very wrong. In the distance was a fence made of bones, beyond which was a mansion guarded by what appeared to be decaying corpses and even full skeletons.

            Zilfer’s face fell at the number of the undead standing at the gate. I see you’ve been busy Mavric. You always did have a strange affinity for necromancy…

            As he approached, he drew his weapons slowly, just to be safe. The guards did not move as he approached, it was as if they were frozen. Warily, the barbarian knocked on the bone gate and waited. For a moment, nothing happened, but then the skeletons came to life.

            The one closest to him came charging with a simple broadsword and thrust it right at his chest. The blade glanced off and he grinned, bringing his war hammer his enemy’s skull, crushing it to dust. Another came charging at him but this one carried a dagger that was glowing a soft blue. Twisting to evade it, Zilfer hacked away its knees with his axe, but the dagger caught his shoulder and left a shallow cut.

            He gritted his teeth in both pain and frustration. He arms his guards with cursed weapons? He must know that that’s the only weapon that can cut me. Did he expect me or is he just being his old over precautious self? he wondered as he dragged his age through the sternum of another guard.

            The battle only lasted five minutes before Zilfer heard the sound he both missed and dreaded hearing. A wild cry of fury came from the direction of the mansion as a black blur was coming for him. Barely moving fast enough, he brought his weapons up into an X to block the powerful downward strike of a scythe. The weapon hooked and was yanked back to its owner, pulling Zilfer’s weapons from his grasp. As the assailant was about to remove his head, Zilfer cried, “Wait! It’s me Zilfer!”

            This caused the man to freeze in a crouch, his crazed eyes wide with the frenzy of battle. He looked up at the enormous man before him and slowly the tension left his body. As he straitened, an insane giggle came trickling from his mouth until the courtyard was filled with wild laughter. The man placed his weapon through a series of leather loops sewed to the coat he wore and left it hang while he collected himself. “Zilfer Yendgar, didn’t expect to see you for a very long time. How have you been my friend?” the smaller man asked.

            Still slightly shaken from almost being killed, Zilfer snatched his hammer and axe from the ground as fast as he could but put them away very slowly as he said, “Life has been better Mavric. It has been a while hasn’t it?”

            “That it has,” the young man, Mavric, said. He then turned and beckoned for Zilfer to follow as he said, “Come on in, it’s been years since we’ve talked, I’m sure there is much to discuss.”

            As the two walked back, Zilfer observed his friends, noting the changes to his appearance. Mavric Zakainhi was of average height and extremely pale. His long black hair hung in greasy strands around his slightly gaunt face, and his piercing gray eyes unnerved all who looked into them. A light chinking sound was coming from his cloak black coat, reminding Zilfer that despite his friend’s incredible skill in battle, he still wore some concealed armor.

            Mavric threw open the double doors to his mansion and waved his arm once the two were in. The door slammed behind them, making Zilfer jump. He glanced back and saw two more skeletons guarding the doors from the inside. Deciding he would start the conversation, Zilfer asked, “So Mavric, where did you get all the guards?”

            Glancing back for a moment, he said, “That seems like a silly question Zilfer. They’re all travelers that have been foolish enough to wander into my domain. No one comes near my home and lives to tell the tale.”

            A grimace passed over the barbarian’s face. I see your regard for life hasn’t changed. You still murder for your own entertainment.

            For a moment, the only sound in the room was the click of Mavric’s boots and the pad of Zilfer’s bare feet, but he quickly came up with another question, “What’s it been now; three years? How have you been feeding yourself?”

            With a nod, Mavric finally turned but continued walked backwards, “Yes, three years. It’s been far too long. Mostly wildlife, the occasional demon that wanders onto my property.” Zilfer’s jaw dropped at the last part and Mavric rolled his eyes. “Yes it tastes terrible but you can’t be very picky when there isn’t livestock to eat or any vegetation on the damned mountain.”

            Finally reaching his destination, Mavric fell into a long couch covered in pelts. With a wave of his arm, he offered Zilfer a seat as well in what appeared to be a leather armchair. Gingerly, he lowered himself into the seat, not really knowing what he sat on. For a moment Mavric closed his eyes, but then his whole body jerked up and he gave a feral growl, reaching back and gripping his scythe. When he realized nothing was there, he leaned back, his eyes still wild.

            Zilfer observed the reaction in silence; he had seen it many times before, but never so severely. “So the visions haven’t stopped huh?” he asked quietly.

            With a gulp of air, Mavric said, “No. They’ve been getting worse lately. I can’t even close my eyes without seeing those four standing over me anymore. Even meditating in place of sleep is starting to fail. I don’t know why this is happening Zilfer.” He then buried his head in his hands, his hair splaying out to hide his face.

            The large man leaned in and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Mavric, you can’t say you didn’t see this coming did you? You’ve had nothing to distract yourself for years and those memories of your childhood and your training will never go away. I mean, those four tortured you for three years and forced powers and knowledge into you the whole time. That isn’t something you can easily put out of your mind.”

            Mavric snarled and looked up, “You don’t think I know that? I thought being up here alone would help me forget or at least come to terms with it, but solitude has only made it worse.”

            Leaning back, Zilfer let a grin spread across his face. “Then it’s a good thing I came up here to get you then isn’t it?”

            For a moment, the man just stared. Despite him not being any older than Zilfer, the things Mavric had seen, done, and endured made him look far older than he was. Deep lines from stress and fear, along with the scars that laced the right side of his face made him look like a grizzled old man at times. “What did you say?” he asked quietly.

            “I said I’m here to take you off this mountain. We have work to do,” Zilfer said, his tone much more serious this time around.

            Mavric took another moment to think before shaking his head and letting out another mad giggle. “Zilfer, Zilfer, Zilfer. Didn’t we discuss this three years ago when I came up here in the first place? I can’t leave, I’ll just start killing people again, and you know society doesn’t like that so much. It’s not like I can’t just not kill people, they make me angry with their stupidity and their damned perfect existences.”

             Rising from his chair, the barbarian walked over to his old friend and looked down at him. “Mavric, Oriax is coming back,” he said grimly.

            “What?!” the young man roared.

Zilfer took a step back. He had blinked just after he spoke and in that instant Mavric stood and was looking him in the eye. I’d forgotten how fast he was…he thought, a shiver of fear sliding up his spine. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, he said, “You heard me Mavric, Oriax is coming back from Hell. I don’t know how, but he is coming.” He then recounted the events that had taken place in Procka, ending with a description of the priest that had given the sermon.

Calming down from the news, Mavric uttered the name, “Morroar Urthadar. Sounds like I’ve got a new enemy. Interesting angle he’s playing, starting up a fake religion here so he can divide the human race against itself. Ingenious really I suppose. So, what’s our plan Zilfer, we’ve got a month it sounds like.”

“So you’ll come with me?” Zilfer asked, surprised that he didn’t have to convince him.

Raising an eyebrow Mavric said, “Of course I will. I hate being all alone in this place, if I have a reason to leave I’ll take it.”

Zilfer nodded, but thought, You were just saying how you could never leave a minute ago. How am I ever going to keep you under control Mavric, you’re so damn unstable and unpredictable… “Well my first thought was seeing if our old friends are willing to help us. I have a fairly good idea of where to look for them so we could start our search right away. I had another idea too.”

“And what might that be?” Mavric asked, twirling the fur on his couch through his fingers.

“If we could find this Morroar Urthadar and kill him, maybe Oriax’s servants here on Dummheit would be crippled. Like my brother always says, best way to kill a demon is to cut off the head,” Zilfer explained.

“Sounds like a plan to me. Let’s get moving then, the sooner we leave the sooner these constant nightmares can disappear,” Mavric said with a shudder.

You don’t even care do you? Zilfer thought, anger beginning to twist within him, All you want is a reason to leave your exile. You don’t care that thousands will die if Oriax makes it back. But before he could think like that any more, he caught himself and thought, Stop it Zilfer, it’s not his fault. Mavric has been through his own living hell. You know that, you just have to remember all those years we spent together.

Putting on a wide grin, Zilfer said, “Let’s.” The two then turned to leave, but Zilfer suddenly stopped. He then turned back and asked, “What about your house and your undead?”

With a snort, Mavric waved his arm and said, “It’s not like I’m their mother. I’ll just leave them with the order to guard the house and that’s what they’ll do. I have a lot more under my control than you can see here my friend, they’ll be fine.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Zilfer let the matter drop. They stepped back out onto the mountaintop to see that the sun had set. The pair looked down to see the twinkling lights of Wyrvenak below them. Zilfer smiled warmly at the memories the two shared in that city. He looked over and said, “I missed you Mavric. It’s been way too long.”

With a light smile his lips, Mavric looked back, “That it has Zilfer. I missed you too. So, where are we headed first?”

Scratching his dark stubble in thought, the barbarian said, “I was thinking Javion. It is the closest and I get the feeling Voult will be the most difficult to convince.”

Mavric grinned and said, “You’re probably right.”

Raising an eyebrow, Zilfer asked, “What is it? What are you smiling about?”

His grin just grew wider and Mavric said, “We’re finally going on another adventure.” And with that he took off running down the mountain.

Zilfer just shook his head and smiled, “That we are my friend. Only Mavric Zakainhi could find the fun in an immanent war with Hell. Let’s get this thing started.” He then jumped off the ledge and followed his old friend. Will I be able to stop him if he loses it though? he wondered. He then shook his head of the worry and thought, Who cares, I’m with my best friend. Besides, once we find the others, they can help me. Maybe with all of us trying we can bring him down if it comes to that.

I pray that it doesn’t.