[Open] checkpoint delta

[Talon]

checkpoint delta

24 Frost 122

It was jarring to see such devastation in person. He had seen war. He had been on battlefields. He had explored the dark pits of the Warrens and after going through his ordeal over the past year, he had seen darkness.

This was not darkness. It was despair.

“What happened here?” Mathias Staring out over the wreckage of what was once the city of Zaichaer filled him with a small sense of awe and horror. Talon could not blame him. As terrible as the landscape appeared however, his eyes shifted to the single point of greatest concern that hovered in the skies. The tear within the veil that still remained from the single greatest act of devastation in Karnor’s recent history.

“Death.” Aoren spoke grimly. Talon shook his head.

“Among other things.” Seeing all of this in front of him only served to reinforce a few thing of what he believed regarding certain people in the world. He regretted how events in recent months played out but given the chance, he would not do it differently. All around him he could see the remnants of the overwhelming amount of aetheric disruption. He did not even need to tap fully into his powers of Semblance, nor did he need to open up his divine vision to the Aetherium. The broken nature of the foundations of the world were apparent for him to see in practically every corner of the land.

“So, why are we here?” Mathias crouched down, staring intently at one of the crystallized torso’s that lay partially shattered on the ground. He had a grimace on his face. Talon did not need to peer into his aura to discern what he thought about what was in front of him. There had been plenty of those crystallized statues along their way here. It had taken him a moment before he realized that they were actually people who had been frozen and immortalized in aetheric crystal. The moment of their horror and fear plastered on their face, forever trapped in that awful realization that they were witnessing their own doom.

“To begin healing the Northlands of Karnor.” Both Mathias and Aoren looked at him curiously. It had surprised Aoren that he had wanted to return to the Imperium. When they had embarked upon their work there though, it had not been so surprising. His feelings regarding the empire were still mostly negative but they were also complicated. He could never forgive the apparatus of the empire for what it did to him but he could not hold its people responsible for those things. Condemning an entire nation of people to resentment and hate was not the way forward.

“Is that all we are here to do?” Aoren spoke. His tone was soft but there was a pointed note to his question. There were people still in Zaichaer whom Talon had business with. People who were responsible for his imprisonment. He did not know what he would do when he faced them. He only knew that he could not move forward without looking them in the eye and seeing their faces for himself. There was anger in his heart. There was pain. Most of all however, there was a weariness within him. He did not want war. He was tired of bloodshed. He just wanted to protect his people but he was coming to realize that his people encompassed far more than those who were simply in Kalzasi.

“No.” He turned and began walking down the street, following a tug on the edge of his thoughts. As he walked he could hear the sound of gunfire. He could hear people shouting. He could hear the sound of pained screams. He felt his muscles tense.

Talon looked at both Aoren and Mathias. His companions nodded. Mathias darted off and began scaling one of the nearby walls. The young man’s time with the monks of the Temple of Fallen Skies had paid off greatly in improving his skills and focus. As Mathias began scaling upwards in order to cover them from above, Talon took off at a sprint with Aoren beside him. Together they rounded a corner and beheld a panicked situation.

Ahead of them was a fortified checkpoint. Its defenders were desperately fighting a swarm of shadow-spawn. He could see gunmen lined up along the ramparts of the fortification. He could see mages casting spells into the fray. Upon each mage he could see one of the dawnstone or moonstone crystals allowing them to wield magic beneath the shadow of the eclipse. Their numbers were small. Having spent his entire adult life leading a military and fighting on battlefields, he could tell at a glance that if they did not receive reinforcements soon, they would be overwhelmed. He considered unleashing his Dawnfire for a moment but decided against it. Zaichaer was not a place to unleash his divinity openly. Not because he was afraid of revealing himself. That was a bygone era. The city was swarming with monstrosities and shadow-spawn in numbers far greater than other places due to the damaged infrastructure of the nation. He did not want to bring more into the area where he could avoid it.

“I’ll take the left. You take the right? Mathias watches our back from above?” Aoren nodded toward Mathias who had set up his position atop one of the nearby buildings, if it could be called that. The young man was positioning a rifle and was already taking aim.

“Reminds me of that time near the Temple of the Spine.” Talon flexed his wrists and summoned his pact blade along with a Negation shield affixed to his other forearm.

“Oh, you mean when you almost got swallowed by a giant worm?” Aoren summoned his dual swords. He grinned. Talon sighed.

“It was not a worm.” He leapt forward as Aoren laughed. The blade of his sword ignited not in Dawnfire but in elemental fire. With his first swing he cut through one of the shadow-spawn, cleaving it in half before it could even face him. Before others could realize he had arrived, Aoren landed, swords crackling with lightning as he cut down several of the creatures. Talon was mid-swing, hacking off the arms of another creature when one of the beasts that was leaping for him suddenly had its head explode in a shower of flame and ash that quickly spread to the rest of its body and others. He glanced up to see Mathias taking aim at another beast.

Talon plunged his sword into the spine of a mistspawn creature, lighting it on fire as he did so. He kicked it forward sending it flying into other creatures that shrieked in pain. Looking down he saw the wide-eyed stare of a human who was panting, had a scrape on his torso and who was staring up at him with a mix of relief and fear. He glanced at the swarm and noted the presence of other fighters. Before he could come to a decision on them, he Blinked in rapid succession, slicing through several more of the creatures then returning to the human who was grabbing his sword and a shield with shaking hands. Talon extended a hand to him.

The man looked at his hand for a moment then accepted it with Talon pulling him up to his feet. They shared a brief look before Talon gripped his sword and returned to cutting down more of the beasts attacking the checkpoint.

"I am Justice."

[Franky]

It was strange, feeling the tide begin to turn, even if only a little. Ever since his meeting with Shaeoth twenty and some days ago, life was a little bit easier for the survivors in the Knob. The first of the Shadow Gems he had received, Franky placed inside the shadow of the cliffs of the Knob, those that the upper level sat upon and overlooked those below. Those cliffs were the centre and symbol of the Knob. And as Franky watched the gem disappear into the shadow, he knew that it would cast the net of protection as described by Shaeoth over the entirety of the Knob.

The second Shadow Gem was placed into the shadow of Hobbie. Or rather, it was fed to her. It was a strange sight, her shadow moved independently of her, and consumed the gem, making it a part of her, followed by a loud purring of contentment. He had patted her on the chimney and stuck the third Shadow Gem into his own shadow. Or rather, into his shadow’s coin purse. And with that, he knew himself to be invisible to the shadow creatures, that Hobbie and those in her protection were hidden, and that the Knob was slightly better off than before.

That was one problem dealt with for now, but there were still so many others.

Franky was now leading a ragtag group of survivors, barely armed with usable weapons and not much training, but now that the shadows were dealt with, at least the other monsters could be killed with by simple stabbing. Franky led the small group deeper into the Knob than any of them had gone since the world went to hell. They were scared, they were nervous, they were worried. But they could see that the shadows walked past them without so much as a sniff. And Franky let them think the truth.

That he was responsible for it.

And so, with that belief came confidence in him. And with that confidence came bravery. And so the amateur squadron was moving down to the lower level of the Knob, slaying mistborn and undead alike as they went, following Franky’s orders without doubt or delay. They found pockets of survivors, holed up in buildings, behind barricades, starving and injured. And Franky’s squadron began to spread the word. Spreading the word that the same Hobgoblin tavern owner who warned the city that an attack was coming, the same bartender whose tavern shown brighter than the Presidium and managed to survive, the same man who stood before them now was also responsible for the shadow creatures not killing them any longer.

He told the survivors to hold on and hold together. He told them that if they could secure the Knob as a whole, he would be able to bring in food before winter got too harsh, before everyone starved and froze, if they weren’t eaten or ripped apart first. And he said that if they were desperate for healthcare or food or warmth, to make their way to the Gobbler. He was turning none away.

And eventually the squadron fought their way to Checkpoint Delta. This checkpoint was one of the most fortified points around the Knob, for it was located at the junction of the Knob and East End, right at the bottom of Sheckle Alley. After the explosions went off and the military was scattered, Sheckle Alley found itself freed from the oppressive and constant patrols by the Zaichaeri humans. The survivors, majority Synnekar, Grackles, and Awoken banded together to make sure the Zaichaeri military did not return to the place they called home.

And as Franky neared it, he felt a warmth glowing out from the feather sewed into the leather strap of his shield. And he felt his own shadow grow long, pointing away from the checkpoint, even though the nearby torches should’ve sent it the opposite direction. He nodded his head. It was time.

He looked back at his squadron, “Bolster the fighters here, follow their orders. I have someone I must meet.”

He didn’t tell them that it was distinctly possible that he wouldn’t return. Franky climbed the staircase of crates, nodding at the Avialae in charge. They knew each other before all this had come down. The man had come to Avialae night every month, just to be around more of his own kind, to no longer feel alone. And Franky climbed down the barricade, seeing the man he’d once seen through Malgar’s vision portal. The same man he’d personally helped condemn to capture, torture, and gods knows what else.

Franky had his sword and shield in hand but the situation here was already beyond handled. He belted his sword, staring at the Avialae prince, the man at the centre of everything. The son of the God King. And part of Franky wanted to turn and run and hide. For he knew what he deserved. He knew what could be rightfully inflicted upon him. And he knew that he wouldn’t fight it, not for a single moment.

He shouted over the sounds of battle, “Talon.”

He assumed that Talon would know of him, would know about him, but they’d never met before now. It was strange, thinking about just how much had occurred between and because of the two of them. And he knew that Talon would be able to see him for what he was. What he truly was.

“We should talk.’

[Talon]

checkpoint delta

24 Frost 122

Talon rolled through the air, jumping over a small group of fighters that was nearly in the process of getting surrounded. He landed on his feet, spread his wings and used the weight of them to knock back an oncoming group of charging creatures. As soon as the monsters were staggered, he reached out to each of them across the expanse of the aether flux. As soon as he had a grip on the flow of the flux inside of them, he set them on fire with a swift application of kinetic acceleration. Before his eyes a handful of the creatures shrieked and dropped to the ground as they burned from the inside out. He looked at the corresponding path that had been cleared, back behind the safety of the barricaded checkpoint.

“Mathias!” He looked up to where his squire was situated. He saw the young man cock his head. Talon gestured to the clear path and the fighters who were scrambling to make it back behind the safety it provided. He caught the nod of acknowledgement as Mathias aimed his rifle. It had impressed him to no end when he had floated the idea of Mathias taking up firearms alongside the more conventional weapons of blades and bow. The young man had proven to be a keen shot. In hindsight, that should not have been surprising. Combined with his history of using Semblance to augment his awareness and the feats of dexterity and coordination his life as a thief required, he took to pistols and rifles naturally.

With the retreat of those Zaichaeri fighters being watched over by his squire, Talon returned to the fray. He heard the gunfire of both Mathias and the fortification riflemen. It was as he was returning to the fight that he felt a stirring in the world around him. Perhaps it was because he was so finely attuned to the domain of Light but he felt the weight of the shadows in the world grow more heavy, almost oppressive. He felt a pang of something shoot through him. It was not quite pain. It was an awareness of something more. Something Other. He turned to where his attention was drawn as he felt eyes upon him.

Descending the barricade was an entity that sent a cold shiver down his spine. Darkness clung to him like a cloud of mist that draped his form, obscuring parts of his body. He could see a hideously monstrous face accompanied by protrusions that could only be described as sharply demonic. As this demon made his way forward, for a moment, Talon thought he was about to be in for a fight for his life. The creatures that had been fighting so ferociously before had slowed in their assault. Some were backing away while others continued to try and press against the defenses. He thought for a moment that he was staring at some mistspawn general or shadow-spawn overlord. But then he recognized the face staring at him and his momentary dread…grew hot with anger.

He had never personally met him. The man had only ever been described to him. Still, he could recognize the individual who had been told to him by Aoren. A Hobgoblin who had been part of the scheme to ferry him from Karnor and who had subsequently spread the lie that Kalzasi had been behind the devastation of Zaichaer. Only this was no Hobgoblin. Not anymore. Perhaps he never had been. What he saw in front of him was a demon. That sparked something in him. It demanded a response. He did not know whether it was the cold clawing of dread in the pit of his stomach or the indignant rage he felt toward this man he had never known, but as he stood there, the world slowly became a familiar plan of stark black and white. His hand tightened around his sword.

The shadows of the world grew starker, darker, they pressed in more closely as though trying to throw themselves over Talon’s body. As he stared at the demon in front of him however, an icy fury filled him. Who was this man? What had he ever done to this man to deserve the life he had condemned him to?

“You.” His jaw flexed. That one word broke through the dam of stillness that had built up inside of him. The veil of his mortality fell away and silver fire ignited all across Talon’s body. Instantly both the mistspawn and shadow-spawn creatures burst into flame. The fully realized symbols of his Divine Nimbus crowned his head, shedding a white light that was infused with the province of his domains in full. Dawnfire spread further and further and further. No mortals were burned. No natural life was harmed. But the shadow-spawn and mistborn monstrosities were incinerated the moment they touched His light. His fire.

Justice. For the death and devastation that had been unleashed.

He took one step forward, silver eyes narrowing as he came face to face with one of the demons responsible for his imprisonment, his torture, his sexual exploitation and so much more.

Light. For the darkness that now had a death-grip on Zaichaer.

In front of him was not just a figurative demon but a literal one. He could see fully the touch of the raw Aetherium on this man. He could see traces of Suffering. Of Sacrifice. Of Shadow. How many had been lost because of his complicit actions? How much could have been prevented? Would his father still have been alive? So many question.

He closed most of the distance between himself and this demon. The very world around him practically quaked as he fought the urge to simply unleash his wrath. He was on the verge of doing so when…he stopped. His eyes drifted slowly to the shield that the demon carried. Shining there, plain as the light of day to him, was one of his own feathers. In it he could see traces of the demon’s touch. A desperate clinging to something a desperate place needed more than anything.

Hope.

Hope was why he was in Zaichaer. He wanted to forget that fact.

He could not. He would not let himself. Too many had died already. Too many had been lost.

Talon clenched his teeth but pulled himself back from that place where there existed only a world of stark black and white…and his overwhelming thirst for retribution. The Dawnfire lessened and he calmed himself enough to speak.

“Yes. We should.”

"Quote"

[Franky]

“You.”

Franky watched the magnificent display as the mortal seeming of Talon was shed and he could see the god as he was meant to be seen. Fury and wrath. Franky tightened his grip on his shield, instinct from the days as a soldier, but he’d long since surrendered himself to this, to Talon’s judgment. He may not be a man anymore, but he was still very much a man of his word. He watched as the creatures were ignited and reduced to ash by the very light that was spreading from the god. And yet something within Franky was not afraid of this power. Rather, there was a curiosity, one of challenge. He might be new to his role as an Archdemon, but it seemed that he could, in fact, challenge the gods.

But now was not the time for that.

Franky’s glowing red eyes watched the silvery own of Talon, the shadows and darkness that wrapped around the former Hobgoblin were not deterred by the burning Light that was cast his way. If anything, they were reaching out for it, they knew it, they were familiar with it. But Franky could feel the warmth through that Feather he held, that one connection to Talon. There was Hope in there, and while it was external, it was all the hope that Franky had left. He had Sacrificed everything about who and what he was to save those he could in Zaichaer, he had willingly taken on this mantle and duty for them.

There was no Hope left for the Archdemon. The Hope he carried was for everyone else.

He watched as Talon calmed himself, and he unclenched his grip on the shield. He wasn’t to be smiled, not yet at least. He looked around the street, seeing no dangers left, and whatever monsters or creatures might be at a safe distance were not coming any closer. He looked up the barricade, feeling the fear emanating from those watching Talon’s display. Magic of any kind, divine or not, holy or not, benevolent or not was always terrifying in the eyes of those who did not understand it, to those who had no power of their own. To the oppressed of Zaichaer.

Franky had considered offering one of the many abandoned homes to use as a meeting place, but he strongly suspected that the man he’d helped arrange to be captive would want to be in an enclosed space with him. It likely wouldn’t end well for them, particularly Franky. Out here in the open would do just fine, no need to hide secrets in the shadows now, that’s where monsters and spid— oh.

A soft grin grew upon the demon’s face. “But I think one more should join us for this. Perhaps one of you could call her?” He reached into the pouch of his pack, pulling out his favoured smoke box, one that had long since been emptied of tobacco and cigarettes. But there was a single item left inside. Sliding open the smoke box revealed a card, golden bordered, spiders crawling upon a shadowy background. It could almost be one of Yeva’s tarot cards. He hadn’t ever intended to use it to call upon her ever since he chose his stance against the Imperium.

But now in the presence of one who might? And possibly had the power to do so?

Franky did not touch the card, but he held the box out for Talon and company to see. Normal etiquette and niceties had no place in this arena. They were long since past that. “The token given to me by the one known as Veronica, for my role in aiding her and her team in transporting you to the Imperium. A token meant to be used to call upon her, to receive any favour of my asking. Your brother has met her, and she, as far as I know, facilitated much, if not all of what has come upon you. I promised to submit myself to your judgment for my actions, sworn to Karam, son of Pavel and others. And I do so now, and I offer this token, so that another might join me in this.”

He lowered his head, taking a step forward, extending his arm to allow any of them to come grab the card if they so wished. “I am guilty of my own choices. I was neither tricked nor mislead. A mistake was made by me and realised far too late, but still, I made that choice myself.” He cast his back up to Talon, “And I am sorry.”

He gave a long pause there, “But also know this. I Sacrificed that man I was, to become this, for these people. I cannot give back what was taken from you, I cannot make it right. It is far too late for either of those things. But I can allow you to give the Justice you and many others rightfully deserve to give me, and to her.”

Another small pause, “But your brother seems to think there’s a different path for us to walk now. And if you’d so wish, we can talk about that as well.”

[Talon]

checkpoint delta

24 Frost 122

He stared at the box that was extended toward him with a narrow eyed gaze. The golden card upon which were scrawled various spiders. He could see a touch of magic radiating from it. He had no desire to touch it. He could hear the words that Franky of Zaichaer was saying. He could recognize it for what it was but whether it was his own intuition or something else guiding him, he did not take the card.

“I am here for you, Frankorg of Zaichaer. No other.” Talon brought his hands to rest at the small of his back. He stared at the demon in front of him steadily for a moment. His gaze went beyond the physical form in front of him. It penetrated the exterior of his mortal coil and went deeper into the heart of the Hobgoblin demon’s soul. Burning there, Talon could see a multitude of things that the Light of his gaze illuminated. He could indeed see resting there a great many regrets. Some were clear. Some were not. He could see resolve. He could see a burning desire to do more. Talon saw many things but the brightest thing within the weary soul in front of him surprised him. It was strange to see that buried beneath the weight of all else that Franky himself presented before him to be observed in Judgement.

“Justice…” Talon spoke the word with a finality that only he could possess. “...belongs to the innocents of Zaichaer. The people who have suffered as a consequence of yours and others actions.”

Out of his peripheral he could see many assembled on the ramparts of the fortifications. He could sense in them their fear. It was not fear of Franky however, it was a fear of what would be done to Franky. In the purview of his vision, Talon could see the wellspring of Hope that flowed from each and every person, funneling its way into the strange demon standing in front of him. He was a fount of it in this blasted landscape and though little of it seemed to exist within him, it flowed from him and into those around him.

“If it is Justice you seek, Frankorg, seek it for them.” He drew in a deep breath as he further calmed his fury. Breathing out through his nose he stared hard at the demon.

“There will come a day when I seek repayment for what you had a hand in doing to me, Frankorg…but not today.” Talon looked away from Franky then and to the people who were reassembling themselves. Even without the assistance of his divine gaze or Semblance, he could see that they were exhausted. There was hunger at the edges of their eyes. Tiredness that was only born from a lack of rest. Too much fighting. Too little to prop them up except their own fear and desperation. These were people held together through sheer willpower.

“I am told you are a businessman.” Just then, Mathias hopped down from his position and trotted up to stand near him. He slung his rifle over his shoulder. Aoren came to stand nearby, his beloved dragon folding his arms over his chest.

“Let us do business.”

"I am Justice."

[Franky]

A short nod in reply to Talon’s refusal, and Franky slid the box shut and hid it away in his pack once more. He would deal with Veronica and the Imperium later. Knowing his luck at attracting the attention of others, they would come find him instead anyways. It mattered not, that die had been cast long ago and he’d made his peace with the potential fallout.

As Talon spoke about Justice, Franky found that he couldn’t agree more. He would find justice for them, though it seemed he had misunderstood the words and visions he shared with Shaeoth. He had thought that the waste that had been laid upon Zaichaer was one of revenge, of Talon’s own making, retribution for the Black Wedding. If it was not that… then whose? Shaeoth’s? For what purpose?

Franky would need to know more. He’d need to find out more. And he would. For far too long, Franky was in the dark of the big picture of the world. The true big picture, the machinations of the divine and the mortal. It was becoming clear to him that the toil of the mortal mattered very little. And with how many gods had presented and involved and otherwise appeared around this event, he felt it was evident that a god must have been involved.

Could justice be brought upon a god?

But that would wait, Franky needed more information first. For now, he was incurring yet another debt, that was fine, it had been fairly earned. A brow raised in amused surprise however at the mention of his being a businessman. It was no secret by any means, and he’d heard of Talon’s own business in Kalzasi, for of course he had, who hadn’t?

But what sort of business would the premier magecrafter of the world wish with an archdemon tavern keeper amid the ruins of a city?

“When you call upon my debt, I shall answer.”

He waited a pause, allowing that to hang before continuing.

“I must admit, you have my surprised curiosity.”

Franky himself was already churning away in his mind options. He always had the next idea, the next plan, the next venture in his mind. Often it was the next two or three. The most masterful magecrafter in the world was a powerful skill set, but he doubted that Talon would simply wish to open another workshop here and just increase his labor. He wouldn’t need to come to Franky for that. No, he suspected this had something more to do with Talon’s role as Prince, rather than as a god or craftsman. A way to better foster trade and collaboration between the two jewels of the north maybe.

That was an idea.

It certainly would be possible, for the magitech of both cities could certainly rival and surpass the Imperium’s own. And if led in the right direction, could do so in a way that instead of oppressing one’s own people like the Emperor does, it could be used to lift them up. A disaster of this magnitude would certainly lead to decades of poverty if not addressed properly.

But play the right cards, seize the correct timing windows, Karnor could be thrust to the forefront of the world. To be a true major power. And that would provide a better shield against the now obviously known Imperial advances. They were coming for Zaichaer and Karnor for they assumed them to be small and weak.

Perhaps Franky and Talon and others could prove them so terribly wrong.

“What sort of business are you proposing?”

[Talon]

checkpoint delta

24 Frost 122

Karnor has seen enough death and bloodshed between our two countries. I have no interest in spilling more.” He cast a glance around at the devastation that was abundantly plain to see in the city.

“As Prince of Kalzasi and Daizoku of House Novalys, I am here to offer an alliance. I would put what resources I can toward the betterment of both our nations.” He dismissed his Reaved weaponry and folded his arms over his chest.

“Winter is here. People are going to go hungry. They are going to starve.” He looked over at the men and women watching over the checkpoint. They were as healthy as could be expected given the circumstances but he could see the edge of hunger in them. It was in the set of the jaw and the squinting of the eyes. The casual sips of water to stifle appetite or the way they kept moving to distract themselves. When people were hungry, there were signs. He had seen them before on long patrols into the Warrens or into the surrounding countryside when a disaster struck supplies. He could clearly recall an incident when a pesticyte outbreak had spoiled an entire warehouse of reserves. It had taken weeks to clear out the rot and poison.

“I am told that you have been granted leave to act as a manager of finances for…” He gestured vaguely to the city around them. “...the survivors.”

He had only a vague idea of the state of Zaichaer’s government. From what he understood, the last remnants of the old regime were in exile along with a large portion of forces that had not defected. They were holed up in Kathiid and from what he understood, Satesoria had fallen in line with the now de facto capital of the Zaichaeri loyalists.

“From what I understand, Kathiid and Satesoria are refusing to render aid. Word is that the Grand Admiral of Kathiid is demanding that the refugee and government in exile swear allegiance to him. Zeraphesh is in no condition to provide assistance. Shemashk is dealing with the rising presence of disturbances from the wastes. Antiris is facing increased aggression from the Vykul Hordes. Your only possible ally right now is Haqs and they have little to spare.” The situation was bleak to say the least. There was no clear frontrunner in terms of the factions vying for control in the city at the moment. Talon had opted to come to Franky firstly because he wanted to see the man himself. Secondly, he seemed like the smartest option as someone to do business with. The alternative was to seek out Stefan Dornkirk, who, as he understood it, was the closest thing to a leader the old regime had present in the city. He hesitated to face Stefan. While he might have been able to withhold the bulk of his fury in the face of this man…Stefan was another matter entirely.

“I have it within my power to offer the assistance Zaichaer needs right now.” He motioned to the ash of the creatures around them. “In more ways than just reducing monsters to ash.”

“What say you?”

"I am Justice."

[Franky]

Franky listened and he watched, and he let his curiosity show as he saw strange… tells in this man. No, net tells, for he did not believe Talon was lying or hiding anything. Mannerisms. It felt… familiar.

Franky wondered just how much Talon and his shadowy brother were alike.

He liked how plainly spoken Talon was, about his role and standing, about the situations at hand. Winter would be hard, allies were practically nonexistent, and death was almost quite literally around every corner here. There was no central control or governance or alliance or anything in Karnor, so the region was in tatters as both of its major cities were suffering. Franky could only assume the Imperium was managing just fine, for the affluent and influential, that is.

Still, Franky had a choice here. Did he get in bed with yet another god that seemed to find his life interesting enough to get involved? At least Talon had been there in some way all along, with the feather gifted to him from sunlight and from the message that he was alive, and probably even with his brother coming to visit.

And Franky appreciated that Talon presented his offer first rather than approaching with a desire or favor in mind.

“I say that I retired and left the Imperium because I tired of finding new enemies and burying friends. I will happily accept whatever aid you’re willing and able to provide so long as it is a fair trade for the people I represent here. And if a personal cost of my own is required, I’ll pay it.”

He smiled darkly, feeling that itch for a cigarette creeping up on him.

“I’ve already sold my soul, cut out my own heart, sacrificed family, given up every coin I’ve earned, and a retirement where I die fat and drunk and happy. Make me a fair offer and I will accept.”

Shaking his head, “Throw in some cigarettes though and you might have me for eternity.”

Franky felt the grip of his new demonic powers pushing out through his skin, stretching it, something only Talon’s divine eyes would be able to see, clawed hands trying to push and stab through. Franky kept Sacrifice in check for now.

“Though perhaps we should continue this discussion at my Tavern. It’s not far, and there are some things I should share with you that might be best softened by some of the swill that isn’t strong enough for cleaning wounds.”

Franky looked around, not liking being in the open, even with a being such as Talon at hand. He suspected that great powers like his attracted greater attention, and greater challenge, and did not wish to invite such things upon the various onlookers who really had no idea what was going on.

The Gobbler was the safest place in Zaichaer, this much Franky knew to be true.

[Talon]

“Then let us continue this discussion elsewhere.” Talon followed Franky through the checkpoint. He felt the stares that settled upon him. There were undoubtedly those among the fighters that recognized him from his visit not that long ago. He did not meet their gazes. While he was there to help them, there was nothing to be gained by trying to connect with them in the current circumstances. They were hungry, cold, afraid and on edge. He needed to build their trust. Inwardly he sighed.

Who would have thought that he would be returning to Zaichaer in order to help rebuild it after everything it had done? Brenner and Stefan Dornkirk, two of its highest officials, had been responsible for his downfall and imprisonment. They robbed him of his father, his mortal father anyways, and had set him on a course that had changed him irrevocably. He should have hated Zaichaer.

Looking around the ruined landscape of the once proud city, all he felt was pity. The people of Zaichaer had enough hate. It was time for something different.

“They looked none too pleased to see us.” Mathias fell into step beside him. Aoren settled into place on the opposite side.

“We are strangers to them. Symbols of a place and people many of them likely hate or fear. Perhaps both.” Talon kept his senses attuned to the world around them, alert for threats that lurked in the corners.

“Zaichaer is responsible for…for what happened to you?” Mathias posed the statement as a question but they already knew the answer. Talon felt the muscles in his jaw tighten. He let out a breath through his nose.

“In part.” He pushed away the thoughts that wanted to crash down upon him. Across the Bond, he felt Aoren push at the edges of the gnawing memories that wanted to claw their way back into his waking mind. There would be time enough to deal with those terrible pains. Now was not the time.

“Then why are we here? Offering help? To a man who had a direct hand in…well…in doing that to you?” Aoren grunted.

“Mathias.” His tone was a warning but Talon shook his head. Over the Bond he sent a wave of assurance to his husband.

Again, Mathias voiced what might have been an obvious question but Talon did not mind. He stared at the back of Franky’s frame. He could see the demonic powers writhing just beneath the surface of the Hobgoblin’s skin. It was unsettling, disturbing. It reminded him of the time he had witnessed Lyra’s true form for the first time. He had experienced the same visceral reaction of fear, horror, and wanting to immediately smite the abomination in front of him. For all of her questionable morals and ethics however, Lyra had proven to be a fiercely loyal and admirable in the right circumstances. She was not evil. She was not good either. Lyra was akin to a force of nature. She merely was.

“Because that would not be Justice, Mathias.” They rounded a corner and waiting for them was a group of shadowspawn and mistspawn. The creatures all turned their attention toward them, hideous mouths opening in clear hunger or bloodlust. He could not tell which. He simply raised a hand and before the creatures could even jump into motion he had taken hold of the flow of the aether flux inside of them. With a flick of his fingers he ignited the aether flux inside of them, burning the shadowspawn and the mistspawn from the inside out with merely a thought.

“Look around you, Mathias. This city is fallen. The people are scattered, floundering as they search for just a way to survive. Could I unleash my wrath and finish what that cataclysm started? Yes. I could. Who would that serve? It will not bring my father back. It will not undo the torture the Imperium inflicted upon me. It would not bring peace to anyone, myself least of all.” Talon was a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. He knew that about himself and he would not feign humility in that regard. He knew his prowess and he knew that it was that very prowess that had so moved the leaders of Zaichaer into acting against him and his country in the way they did. They had been terrified of his wrath. In the end, they had gotten exactly what they feared just not in the way they expected. A doom of their own making.

They turned another corner and Talon came to a dead stop. He immediately tensed, his wings stiffening and his posture growing rigid as he beheld what could only be described as a giant, building shaped monster. Its toothy maw was open and there were people headed directly for it.

“What? What is it?” Aoren and Mathias were immediately on the defensive. Talon blinked at them.

“Do you…?” He looked back at the building monster. Did they not see it?

[Franky]

Franky led the way back to the Gobbler. He still moved with the slow and careful caution required of the unique gorilla warfare that existed in this city. Every open door, alleyway, pile of rags, shadows, rooftop could not be trusted. The only trust any in Zaichaer could find would be in the living that fought side by side with them.

And so Franky was choosing to trust Talon as well, for Talon had come to the fight, had come to help. He watched as more monsters appeared, entering his fighting stance only for them to be smited instantly. Part of that really chapped Franky’s ass. He’d never understand how so many gods could exist, could wield such wonderful and destructive powers, and yet seemingly do so little. Talon was here, yes, but where were the others.

It seemed that to be a higher order of God, you must care less for mortals.

As they rounded a corner, Franky relaxed, seeing Hobbie once more. He felt Talon stiffen behind him. He turned, a rare-these-days smile upon his face as he looked at the god. He could only guess that Talon, like Lyra, could see her for what she was.

“Bring no harm and she won’t bite.”

He led them to the doorway of her gaping maw. Teeth and eyes were evident to Talon, and he’d be able to easily discern that her and Franky were one. And he’d be able to feel Shaeoth’s touch there as well, one of his crystals placed in the shadow of the demonic tavern. The door opened of its own accord for Franky, leading into the front room which had been fortified into a barricaded killing field for anything that might breach the entrance. Weston and several others lowered their guns as they entered.

Talon would see that he was literally in the belly of the beast, moist, dark, alive and yet no one else seemed to notice or mind. And she purred as Franky walked over to a hearth, patting it gently. He nodded into the next room, what used to be the theater. Inside it was an infirmary, many of his serving staff moving back and forth dressing wounds, boiling bandages. Many of the injured were missing limbs or trying not to look at the parts of them that had been twisted and corrupted.

Franky stopped by one bed, a small green goblin girl there, one leg missing below the knee, an arm at the shoulder gone as well. Reaching back into his pack, he pulled out a package wrapped in a dirty cloth. “I’m sorry it took so long to find.” He handed it to the small girl, who unwrapped it, finding an empty notebook and a small package of colored waxed crayons. She smiled brightly, for a moment forgetting about her wounds. Then she tried to reach with her missing arm and stopped. Her face went dark, angry, eyes filling with tears.

Franky knelt down, reaching out to gently take her remaining hand in his own, “Could you do me a favor?” She looked at him, incredulous that he’d even ask such a thing. “Would you mind drawing me something pretty enough to put on the board? We could use some more color in here and haven’t had any new art pieces in a while.”

He pointed over to the board on the wall where several papers hung. She refused to even look at it. Franky smiled, scooping her up in his arms, carrying her over to the board. She didn’t resist but she didn’t seem to be enjoying it. He pointed to a child’s picture of a four headed dog, “This one was made by one of my very own grandtadpoles, Gobriella.” He laughed, “She always wanted a dog.”

The little goblin girl peered at it with one big eye, then back up at Franky, “Did she get a dog?”

Franky’s throat tightened, “No. Unfortunately she died. Her and her mother were trying to get her when the disaster happened.” He smiled with tearful eyes, knowing his role in all this, “But this picture always reminds me of her and brings a smile to my face. And when you finish healing you’ll grow big and strong and go build a life somewhere. And I’d like something to remember you fondly by. Could you do that for me?”

She looked up at him for a long moment, then nodded. Franky carried her back to her bed, setting her upon it. She took up the notebook and crayons with her one arm and set to work. Franky moved onward before stopping, “And eat your rutabagas. The cooks work hard on them and they will help you grow strong.” The little girl giggled and nodded, not looking up from her artwork.

Franky found a table in the back corner, sitting down. Merielle approached, her uniform crisp but not as clean ad it usually was. “Welcome back Franky. It’s a.. good day here. We haven’t lost any today, and some sacks of grain were found hidden beneath some floorboards at Yerpold’s. That will give us another week maybe.”

She turned to Talon and Mathias, “Hello Sers, May I get you something to drink? Eat?” She would leave them after they answered. Once alone, Franky set to business, “What more can you help with here? And how can I help facilitate it?” As he spoke, he reached into his own shadow where he’d set the crystal given by Shaeoth and tapped it. As he did, he sent a thought into it, hoping to reach the god. ‘Your brother is here, as you said he’d be. Your presence might be appreciated.’

Franky suspected there might be some better service achieved if all the pertinent players were to be present. He would need to reach out to Lyra after this as well. She was the closest thing to a partner he had these days, being something beyond mortal such as himself.