Resurrection Pt. 3

In the dark, they crouched next to the burned stump of a tree looking around; so many roaming flame legion, Rafka thought, pupils black taking in the area. Grim reached into his jacket and pulled out his flask, uncorked then nudged the thief, offering. She declined, so he tipped it up and finished it off, a silent exhale as he corked the empty bottle and returned it to the inner jacket pocket.

When the centurion had told her ‘…when you see the sky raining fire, we’re close’, he wasn’t kidding. The sky really was raining fire here, materializing somewhere above and keeping the ground and any plant life black and burnt. There was almost nothing for them to hide behind, only stumps to hug and the occasional boulder. ‘Now you know why I wanted you here, not Dinky,’ he whispered.

Rafka nodded. Though she thought legionnaire Shredskin with more experience would have been a better choice, legionnaire Dinky certainly would have gotten them into trouble right away with his heavy gear. Grim motioned silently to Rafka, pointing across Keeper’s Sanctum; take them out, quickly and quietly. If you can, drop them behind a rock so they aren’t discovered soon.

She nodded again and moved out to the right, the centurion moving off to the left, both with daggers drawn.

Three dozen or so dead bladestorms, axefiends, and shadowblades later, the centurion came up behind her from out of the black, tapping her on the shoulder and motioning her back toward where they started next to a boulder. ‘Good job, we have our backs cleared. Now things get interesting.’ He pointed up toward the cliff base about one hundred feet away, a small fire barely visible with what looked like at least three soldiers roaming nearby.

They quietly trotted up to the cliff, left of the fire, backs hugging the face then in a crouch, they silently moved along the wall then stopped, Grim touching Rafka’s arm lightly then nodding off to her right; a flame legion stalker sitting on a boulder in the dark sharpening a small blade. He nodded to her then made a slit throat motion.

She backtracked a bit to circle around the stalker to the opposite side. Her thief instincts kicking in, she disappeared from even Grim’s view as he watched the stalker’s head get yanked back, at the same time as a huge gash appeared and an artery squirted blood ten feet away. She pushed him off the giant rock away from view of the fire, then returned to the centurion.

Surface of Keeper’s Sanctum, Fireheart Rise

Grim then motioned for her to move out in a half circle around the fire, eyes open and to take only one target out at a time, quietly. She moved off with a nod, he went forward slowly and cut three throats, dragged them back toward the cliff then returned where they separated. Rafka had killed four herself, then returned as well.

He then tapped her bicep and pointed, their main target, on the other side of the fire near some crates, speaking to a smoke shaman and another stalker about thiry feet away. He silently motioned for them to throw their blades at the same time, pointing at his head. Grim sheathed the dagger he kept out and pulled an axe.

1….2….3 The axe flew at the smoke shaman and two daggers shot at the stalker, the shaman’s head split with the axe stuck in as he toppled, the stalker’s head gushed blood falling over, knocking down another crate stack. ‘I’ve been expecting you centurion,’ a deep throaty voice growled.

As he turned, what Grim thought was a flame legion shaman while he searched all these years, he saw was actually a godforged hellstorm. The hellstorm raised his arms, motioning in a small army of flame legion from the darkness, weapons drawn and waiting word to attack. Grim and Rafka looked at each other in determination, then around them in silence.

‘You’ve made quite a name for yourself, centurion,’ he said. ‘You have most of my compatriots nervous at hearing you are on the attack, I commend you. I’ve created quite the monster in you.’ At that, a commotion began at the rear of the flame legion ranks, silence except for the sound of their armor and weapons falling to the ground.

The rest of the flame legion turned and met their death at the hands of some shadowy figures, who then stepped forward led by a knee-high figure in Whispers gear, the asura Manikk, from Burnt Hollow. A small army of Vigil soldiers in heavy armor fanned out behind the group back some forty feet, commander Skullbash shouting her soldiers into position, stepping toward the light and saluting Grim, then returning back to the dark and guard duty around them.

‘You may have command of your battalion and can tell them not to follow, centurion, but the Whispers don’t answer to you…yet.’ He smiled and gave his best version of a charr salute, then they all stood watch as Rafka pulled both pistols and darted up next to the lone hellstorm, both barrels aimed at his head.

‘Well,’ the godforged hellstorm resigned himself to saying, ‘it would seem I’ve run out of options you little maggot. You could have been a legend in my flame legion army, what a waste.’ Grim stepped over and pulled his axe out of the dead shaman’s head, wiping it off on his corpse. ‘Sit down,’ the centurion told him. The hellstorm kneeled and sat back on his haunches, the two staring at each other in silence for a moment.

The centurion remembering his simba’s ghostly image…

‘If I hadn’t run you would have killed me as your soldiers did my simba, but you did me a favor killing my worthless sire, as I would have done that myself eventually. I suppose I should thank you, you saved me the effort. And we both have a lot of blood on our hands. But as for you,’ Grim tossed his axe in the air with a spin, catching it as he said, ‘I’ll see you in hell.’ And with a roar he slammed the blade with years of built up fury into the godforged hellstorm’s head, splitting it completely in two, the edge buried down deep into his chest.

Rafka still stood off to the side, mouth agape, pistols dropped, watching as a strange blue smoke began to rise out of the hellstorm’s chest opening above his twitching corpse and began to form into a strange ball shape above. Inside the ball of smoke a figure took shape, a female charr from chest to head. Grim stood wide-eyed but still ready for a fight, watching warily.

The Whispers and a few Vigil soldiers in view saw and heard nothing and wondered what was going on, as Rafka’s eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped open even more at the ghostly voice of the smoking figure she heard say, ‘You’ve grown quite handsome, my cub. And I am very proud of you.’ The figure seemed to smile slightly. ‘Simba?’ Grim said, bewildered.

The only ones who could see and hear what was going on were Rafka and the centurion, the others stood around wondering among themselves. Rafka, still wide-eyed, began to tear up knowing Grim had never known her beyond a young cub. ‘Yes, my cub. The souls of those killed in our camp were taken into the hellstorm. Every time he heard you searched for him, he grew more fearful.’

‘And every time he grew more afraid, I grew stronger. You truly frightened him with your beheading his soldiers alive at Incendio Templum; as he grew afraid, I grew stronger and began to force his fear on him every day, then every hour, he could not escape. He truly had a tormented mind, and will have a tormented soul.’ Grim tried to focus and see the smokey vision with more clarity, but his tearing up didn’t help.

‘I must go, cub. You have freed me, but I have something of yours for you I have been saving all of these years. All of the rage, strength, clarity, order, and kindness the hellstorm saw in you was drawn into my soul. Now I return it to you. CRUSH THEM!’ At that she made a fist, eyes glowing green in an angry face, then went back to a slight smile and reached out, a paw barely formed under his jaw with blue smoke before evaporating. Her image disappeared, but from the center of the blue ball a beam shot out into Grim’s mouth and eyes with the sound of a freight train in a wind tunnel; he fell to his knees leaning back, arms slightly raised out to the sides.

Dinky with his legionnaires and the 12th ran up from beyond the Vigil soldiers and got to the Whispers surrounding them when Rafka, still teary-eyed, whipped her pistols around and pointed both at them, shouting ‘STOP!’ Rathgaar Firemane ran to the front of the group afraid for his cub, full of wonder and wide-eyed as well.

A moment later the beams and noise faded, and the blue ball of smoke evaporated. Rafka put her paw to her mouth saying quietly ‘Oh my!’ behind it, as Grim stood with glowing green eyes, turned and began to walk back south, silent and staring beyond them, through the group of soldiers. Dinky said, ‘Uh, Grim….’, then got quiet. The Whispers and Vigil parted for the centurion as well, and he disappeared into the dark. Rafka, crying now, ran after him to make sure he was alright, wherever her centurion went.