From alt.pub.dragons-inn Tue Mar 15 23:16:33 1994 Xref: netcom.com alt.pub.dragons-inn:7122 Path: netcom.com!netcomsv!decwrl!pacbell.com!ihnp4.ucsd.edu!agate!usenet.ins.cwru.edu!po.CWRU.Edu!rev2 From: rev2@po.CWRU.Edu (Robert E. Vogel) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: REPOST: [Azend/Zjiria] A Fight and Some Questions Date: 15 Mar 1994 03:14:56 GMT Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, OH (USA) Lines: 110 Message-ID: <2m397g$10s@usenet.INS.CWRU.Edu> References: <2m34or$mr6@usenet.INS.CWRU.Edu> <2m38d9$t0j@usenet.INS.CWRU.Edu> Reply-To: rev2@po.CWRU.Edu (Robert E. Vogel) NNTP-Posting-Host: owl.ins.cwru.edu ADMIN: The following a reposting of a story a while back. This thread runs parallel to the [Zjiria/Azend] thread. Azend, the races used in this thread, and this story are copyrighted by Robert Vogel, 1993. *** > "That might as well be, but I think I will have Havian check for us." > With a grunt, Havian hopped down from his horse and removed a long dagger. The horsemen drew their horses back to watch the show. I dropped into a crouch, arms raised in defense. Havian followed into a similiar stance, but by the way he walked, I could tell that he was not as versed in such combat as I. As a desert jackal, he lopped gracefully towards me. At the last moment, I did a deep knee bend, my other leg lashed out in a low circle. I connected above the ankle of the leg his weight was on. Although it knocked him off his feet, he rolled to the ground and scrambled up with more ease than I would have liked to see. The other horsemen applauded my move with laughter that burned Havian's face. Such praise was destructive, more mocking towards my opponent than approving my skill. It would drive Havian to be ruthless and force upon me to take more aggressive action than a simple trip. I would not doubt if such was the way of their life when as children, two would fight and the rest gaod them on to greater bloodshed. Havian approached slower, in circling motion. I circled and tried to retreat, but his feet moved swifter over the terrain than mine. The back of my right foot caught a rock, I glanced for a moment down, and he struck. I barely caught the glint of steel in time to skip back. He thrust out, hoping to catch me before I could recover my equilibrium, but I caught his forearm with my left and pulled his attack passed my shoulder. With my free right hand, I gave an open palm strike to his face. His eyes crossed; I disarmed the long dagger with a twist then next moment. My left elbow came down into his stomach, then I turned back and hit him strongly in the chest with my right. He toppled to the ground and lay sprawled out. I turned to look at the horseman leader. A moment of stillness passed, and then with puzzlement and interest, "How interesting. Who are you, traveller?" "By name, Azend." "Well, Azend, that was a good show. Such skill should be talked about, not slain. We will be having a feast for having destroyed the Baal outpost. Would you care to accompany me and my men?" I bowed low, "I would be honored." "Delightful! I am pleased to hear that. Finish up and quickly!" The last was directed at several of the horsemen, who turned and rode back to the village. "Come, Azend, let us see if we have more horses than riders. I dislike doubling up men on horses, it slows the poor beasts down and tires them so much faster." With that, I walked along side him as the rest of the horsemen either accompanied me or rode ahead to help with the burning. As I walked towards the village, the smell of burning flesh hurt my nose and I sneezed. It was sickly sweet; I took a deep breath to steady myself. The bodies of both defender and horse were put in huge pyres, naked and discarded. Before every body, the horsemen would strip it of everything. Clothing was often burned as well, but maybe a cloak or a shash was saved. I saw no mourning for the dead, but a torque would be removed from each dead horseman and studied for identification. The torque was helded with respect, a treasured item, and the only thing I saw so special to these people. I turned to the leader who was watching me, along with several others. "What be you people, by name and nature?" "We are the Domaeki, nomads of these mountains. I am Sarken, leader until death or defeated in battle." "You queried if I was sent by the Baals. What be these Baals?" The moment I finished the phrase, the Domaeki around me turned and spat on the ground. One spoke in a gruff growl, "The Baal be the absolutely rotten-hearted bastards that profaned this earth. They're evil, cruel, delighting in pain and torture, and sure that they am first chosen over all creation." Another nearly hissed, "They die forever! What kills three men couldn't kill one of those low worms!" Various grumbles came of that last one, and several mentioned in bits in pieces of their stamina and prowess. Though lore and legend was more than could be true, such feats were unnerving to hear. I caught references to being burned alive, filled with arrows, hacked away, and still they lived on. Then they stopped and looked towards Sarken, who had made a sound so soft I barely heard it. He spoke slowly, "We don't know much about the Baals. They are hard to kill and would live forever otherwise. They are crueler than we can describe. But worse are their servants, the Baal-sent." A collective dark murmer came from the other Domaeki, but Sarken continued without pause, "The hearts of the Baals are so dark that they can fill corpses with their own blackness. It does not bring them to life, but it does bring them back from the dead. "Do you know what it is like to come face to face with a man you saw killed a day ago? His face is pale and lifeless, but he has a smile that chills you to the bone. Have you any idea what it's like to see a great mass of bodies all dead yet all with hate in their eyes?" Sarken stopped, his eyes cool and haunted. A shudder passed over several of the Domaeki. I turned back to look at the village. "Yet you managed to slay a village full of Baals." "This? Hah! This was just a Baal outpost. We killed only seven Baals, the rest were old families and friends, even some travellers who came too near the Baals and are were... "Well. I'm certain you understand." Where as before I was warm, now a chill from within had seized me and would not let go. I thought of the four I saw killed by the Domaeki. My mind touched as one would finger in curiousity yet disgust a body long dead and decomposing, the replusively attractive memory of the woman's face. It was so fair, so beautiful, and yet, so cold, twisted, and dark. *** ADMIN: Once again, comments, questions, and flames respected. -- I would think that I was dead but for the pain... ---Rabied Rat's Revenge