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across the clearing, trampling the scrubby grass that grew to either side of the road. The air was hot with the crackle of their weapons and smelt increasingly flat and sterile with every connected stroke.
Jeshux began to grow desperate as he felt his strength begin to lag against the magically charged assassin. Searching desperately for an opening in his adversary’s defense he was dismayed when he could not find one. Sefu was just too good.
He was so concentrated solely on meeting his enemy’s advances that Jeshux missed a step. As he stumbled he was suddenly surprised when Sefu let out a low grunt before her body tried to straighten like a board and fell to the ground in a heap. Behind her Candlelite stood grinning with the mercs recovered plasma pistol in one hand and a smear of blood over his left eye.
“I almost had her,” Jeshux breathed heavily as he deactivated his sword and stuck the blade in the ground so he could lean on it while he caught his breath.
Candlelite gave him a short bow and said, “Thank you would be more appropriate, I think. Because from my perspective it looked like you were losing. And you’re welcome.”
“Thanks,” Jeshux begrudged with a grin as he accepted his pistol from the younger man and then looked at the crumpled form of the assassin. “Let’s get her searched and trussed up before she wakes from that knock you gave her on her noggin.”
Jeshux sheathed his sword and walked over to Sefu to begin patting her down while Candlelite jogged off to gather some rope from where their horses were concealed.
“That’s quite the collection,” Candlelite remarked when he returned with the rope.
Jeshux had a small pile of various weapons sitting next to him that he had stripped from the assassin’s person. “This is just the beginning,” he said. “I’m starting to find the hidden pockets now.”
By the time he was done Jeshux had accumulated a small arsenal as well as a wide variety of edged weapons, large and small, ranging from throwing stars and knives to nunchucks, and a short folding staff but nothing was more impressive than the knife he pulled out of her boot. Jeshux estimated that in Sefu’s small grip the blade would resemble that of a small sword.
Candlelite then lashed her limbs together from head to toe and the two men stood back to wait for their captive to regain consciousness, they did not have to wait long.
The assassin gradually regained consciousness with small tossing and turnings before her eyes snapped open to glare at her captives as she struggled against her bonds. Upon spotting Candlelite her eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed.
“Impossible!” Sefu spat the word. “You are dead.”
Candlelite held up the shuriken she had thrown at him. He grinned maliciously but there was humor in his voice when he said, “You know your aim isn’t that good. Maybe you need more practice.”
Despite her bonds Sefu lunged at Candlelite and Jeshux sword flicked out as fast as light, its blade flashing steel once more. She pulled up short of the point at her neck and her frustration was barely contained as she spoke, “Damn you and damn the day I took this job!” It was plainly evident that the assassin’s pride was considerably wounded.
“I agree with you there,” Jeshux allowed himself a quiet chuckle at her discomfort, then his voice grew hard once more as he began his interrogation. “Speaking of who hired you.” He pressed the tip of his sword into her neck.
Sefu gave her captives her sugary smile, “You know damn well who hired me.”
“We know who’s pulling the strings but who commissioned the deal?”
“I’m not at liberty to reveal my clients.”
“Damnit bitch we know who your client is." He pushed the tip of his sword to her neck until it drew blood. “Who commissioned the deal? No games!”
Gritting her teeth Sefu drew back just enough to speak, “All right, all right. Lower your sword.”
“No tricks?” Jeshux asked.
“No tricks,” Sefu conceded.
Jeshux looked at Candlelite who had been following the exchange carefully. “She’s telling the truth,” he said.
Trusting the other man’s animal instincts Jeshux nodded and slowly lowered his sword. “All right assassin, talk,” he said.
Taking a deep breath Sefu began, “I don’t know who they were.” At Jeshux narrowed gaze she quickly added, “They were mages, they were mages. They had brown cloaks with green trim. I couldn’t identify them though, they had their hoods up.”
“Go on,” Jeshux prompted.
“I was brought the message by a boy while in a bar. I then met a guide in the forest who blindfolded me. I estimated that we had walked about one point seven miles before he removed the blindfold. We were in a cave and I was brought another four miles or so underground before I met the mages. They told me who the targets were, gave me half of the money then with the assurance of the rest upon verification of the jobs completion, and the journey was repeated in reverse.” The assassin’s sigh conveyed obvious disgust with herself. “That’s all I know, I swear.”
Jeshux looked at Candlelite, who nodded.
“Good,” he said thoughtfully. “Green trim, hmm, I think the mages with the green trim come from Gonderlund.”
“What is it?” Candlelite asked when he saw Jeshux frown.
“That can’t be right. Gonderlund is supposed to be one of the kingdom’s most loyal supporters. One of his top advisers is a mage from Gonderlund. I think this may be something we need to look into.”
“And what about me?” the assassin asked.
“What?” Jeshux asked coming out of his reverie. “Oh, yes, well you’re coming with us, of course. We can’t allow you to continue to run rampant.”
“So we’re going to Gonderlund?” Candlelite asked.
“Yes,” Jeshux answered. “Something tells me that this connection is important. I’m not sure why but at least now we have a destination.” He frowned again, “Candlelite, get the horses. We need to catch up with the others.”
“All right,” Candlelite said. “I’ll be right back.”
Sefu had lapsed into a sullen silence after her confession so Jeshux walked over to the pile of various items that he had stripped from her person, the tools of her assassin trade.
“Quite the collection,” he said.
“Thank you,” Sefu answered sarcastically.
Within minutes Candlelite returned leading three horses.
“Look what I found,” the young man said holding up the reigns of Sefu’s horse. “She was just standing there munching grass with our horses.”
“Good. I wasn’t looking forward to sharing a mount with this scum,” Jeshux said indicating the assassin with a thumb jerked in her direction before he pulled a bag from where it hung on his saddle and began depositing Sefu’s toys into it.
Candlelite came over and jerked Sefu roughly to her feet and then, despite her protestations, slung her across her saddle on her stomach.
“That ought to do it,” he smugly smiled at her after tying her securely in place. “We wouldn’t want you to fall off, now would we?”
The indignant woman refused to give her captors the satisfaction of a response and so the two men swung into their saddles and with their captive in tow, set off to rejoin their companions.


The sky was crystal clear and bright blue, not a cloud in sight. Off in the distance a mild breeze ruffled the needles and leaves that covered the mountain range. In search of a meal a red-tailed hawk winged its way across the grassy plain below, unfortunately all of the lowland prey had secreted themselves safely in their burrows in fear of a much deadlier threat.
The hawk let out a sudden, piercing cry and fled back the way it had came as a massive flock of squeaking, screeching vampires flapped its way across the sky and blotted out the sun. Below, in their shadow, marched the vast hordes of Harmony’s army. Rank upon rank of goblins, werewolves, and humans trampled the grass in wide swathes, destroying the habitat of small wildlife for miles, millions of troops in a perfectly coordinated precision march. Mindlessly they moved toward the mountain range that was their goal, carrying in their midst Harmony’s ultimate weapon. Their destination was Matanukan Peak, the highest point in the entire range and the perfect eerie to unleash the perfect weapon.
Harmony rode in the middle of the mob just to the front of the Arcane Energy Canon. His litter was born by sixteen large werewolves and was canopied in a light opaque material jet black in color. Behind this veil mounted on a throne of bones sat the dark sorcerer. His hands clutched tightly at the armrests and a twisted smile played at the corners of his mouth. Soon, with the aid of magnifiers, the keep of his enemy would be in sight.
Once atop the great peak that was Matanukan the army would be afforded a range of hundreds of miles in any direction in which to unleash his arcane energy canon, also this vantage point would provide an excellent shelter from the backlash of force once they delivered the arcane energy bomb into the capital.
For two days this massive army marched across the desert until they hit the plains then another three days took them over the grasslands and into the mountains. The afternoon of the third day found the soldiers of darkness settling into position on top of Matanukan Peak. While the bulk of Harmony’s army was scattered at various positions throughout the mountains only about twenty thousand troops were camped on the peak and these were mostly upper echelon soldiers. A group of these were busy overseeing the placement of the arcane energy canon.
While the canon was busy being settled in place Harmony was busy picking his fastest werewolves and two trusted goblins to ride them in delivery of the arcane energy bomb to the palace capital of AnEerth. He had already oriented himself in relationship to the palaces position and he planned to witness its destruction before full dark.
Mounted atop their feral steeds the two goblins made final adjustments to the straps of the backpacks they wore. One carried the bomb while the other bore the detonation device. Once ready they followed their demented master beyond the boundaries of the camp.
There was no conceivable way that the two werewolves could travel the necessary distance in the time designated so Harmony planned a simple bit of teleportation to solve this minor problem. Once well away from the other troops the two goblins nudged their werewolves close to one another and closed their eyes. They heard their master mumble something unintelligible then felt the unpleasant displacement and compression of de-atomization before they opened their eyes again…
…and found themselves an estimable four hundred miles distant from the mountain range. Taking a quick moment to establish their position from the sun they turned and quickly urged their mounts to top speed for Dirsellia.
Dusk found the werewolves panting heavily in the grass approximately five mile from the walls of the city and as the sun dropped from the sky the two goblins huddled around the arcane energy bomb where they diligently connected the detonator. The detonator was a small black square with a digital readout and six green wires trailing from its housing, three on either side. It mounted to the bomb magnetically and then the six wires plugged into an equal number of jacks. Once connected one of the goblins set the detonator and then the two terrorists sat back against their steeds to enjoy a last meal.


King Zakeriah had by royal decree tried to organize an orderly evacuation of the surrounding countryside to the city but, as in all crises, bedlam ensued. Messengers were sent out from the
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