the Mosiac 

EPISODE 7

Within the dense mist, a lone voice quietly broke the silence.

"I swear Gahnt, one day I'm going to put my foot so far up your ass that you'll taste the crap on my toes." Whisper grumbled as Nynko wrapped another bandage around the warrior druid.

Under the small floating pale light Nynko had summoned, Gahnt gave Whisper his best apologetic look.

"Look Whisp, I'm really sorry...' the battlemage began only to be cut off by a dark look from the druid.

"Yeah... yeah. It's just that every time you dump flaming death nearby, it's my ass that catches on fire."

"Well bro..." Nynko added carefully, "you are awfully big and usually in the middle of it. Maybe you should invest in a good suit of armor or a bow." Nynko said, lightly tapping his ancient and well-used collection of platemail pieces.

Whisper gave the Chaos priest an even darker look. "How about I pick you up and starting using you as a missle next time?"

"Or not." Nynko concluded, resuming his bandaging.

"And what the hell was that thing with the big orange eye?" The huge druid asked the small, dark skinned, priest. "I almost shit myself when I looked up and saw that thing leering at me."

"Oh..." Nynko replied, looking both left and right as if he might be overheard, "That was Ithxpictic. Old God thing, before man walked the lands, way back when the world was a way different place, blah blah, blah. Occasionally some nutcase finds some preserved tome or some similar crap and starts up some derranged and twisted cult in the middle of nowhere." Nynko glanced briefly at the gray gloom all around. "Like this place."

"Fucksticks." Gahnt swore. "How much trouble are we in?"

"Usually some law god sniffs out crap like this and sends a small army of his meatheads to 'cleanse with fire' everyone in a couple of leagues of where it started." Nynko replied. "But as for the specifics, I dunno. Ithxpictic was only mentioned in passing in some text I was supposed to be studying. I only remembered because there's not a lot of one hundred foot tall cones with a big orange eye and a thousand arms."

"Are his followers big on revenge?" Whisper asked.

Nynko shrugged in his heavy armor. "Not more than anyone else after our asses. Still, I understand that they are into some really weird shit and we just killed a bunch of them..."

Whisper nodded not wanting to know what 'weird shit' entailed. "Yeah, we should get moving. Are we still going doing the deep run? What are you guys thinking?"

"I'd rather be drinking and banging away on some whores." The priest of chaos replied.

"About going on with this?" Whisper rumbled while resisting the urge to punch Nynko.

"Might as well." Gahnt said quickly. "We need the money and these guys probably think we teleported the way the fuck out of here. As long as we keep moving, we should be okay…. if you can find the way to the temple." He motioned for Whisper to take the lead.

Whisper sighed. "Isn't this the sort of thinking that usually gets us in trouble?" The druid asked in general as they headed off into the swirling mist.

Soon after, something dark and shambling slowly made its way out of the fog and followed after.

the Mosiac 

EPISODE 6

The undead thing waited in the darkness.

When the young, half-naked wizard entered the abandoned mine shaft, a place of rotted wood and deep shadows, the creature first assumed it was some foolish treasure seeker, whose courage, greed and stupidity far outweighed any sense of self preservation.

It would have fed upon the fool and been done with it, but the creature had not survived this long by acting hastily.  It was centuries old and in all that time, it had learned caution.  In the shadows, it observed its prey carefully.  There was something odd about the bare-chested young man that didn't sit well with the creature.

No reason to rush things.

It was no longer capable of anticipation, excitement, or dread.  The necrotic energies that held it together made such base feelings impossible.  The need, the craving for fresh blood was it's only passion.  Still, it opened itself up to the stirrings of magic, a trick from it's past. 

Once, it too had been a wizard.

Threads of magic, both strange and ancient, were woven throughout the young man's flesh.  Odd runes slowly drifted across the mage's skin, only half of them visible to the naked eye, the rest shifting in and out of some never place. 

The small globes of light slowly orbited the young man, lighting his way and following him down the broken and dusty tunnel.  After the lightest of magical touches, it realized that each one of those orbs was loaded with defensive magics as well.

Years had become meaningless in its undead existence, but still, in the span of centuries, never had it encountered a being so wrapped in so many powerful and intricate protective spells. 

It would have given much to understand the purpose of those magics, so complicated, so beautiful the pattern. 

But it was then when the young man cleared his throat and spoke aloud into the darkness:

"Look, I know you're here.  I'm not looking to start some shit, but if you try anything stupid, you are more than fucked.  I came only for information, nothing else."

Unlike the undead creature, Gahnt knew exactly what was up.  His own existence was owed to a volatile combination of paranoia and poor impulse control.  He had no illusions about what lived in this dark place and had come prepared to fight, if necessary.

"What do you offer?" the creature rasped from the darkness.  It had come to the conclusion that it wanted no part of this one, despite it's hunger.

"You were once Terenska of Olbrik?" Gahnt asked of the shadows.

"That name.... so long has it been... yes... that name still as meaning to this shell." the creature rasped, stunned that anyone would still know that particular relic of information.  "But it is a memory and nothing more... try to conjure with it and you will find it has no hold over this collection of dark forces."

Gahnt reached into his pack and produced a scroll, bound in glowing silken thread.

"Nothing of the kind, though it is a shame if all you say is true.  Terenska was mighty in his day and was known as a learned man.  But if some whisper of his past is still to be told, I would hear it.  In just that happenstance, I have prepared this:" he announced, "The Shield of Twilight's Falling.  It is yours if you have the information I seek."

The undead thing laughed, a long, dusty cough.

"You think I'm a fool?" it spat.  "That spell was lost millennium ago during the reign of the Skybreaker.  It has become but memory in the minds of men.  Trouble me not with lies and false promises mortal, lest we test to see if your confidence in your considerable protections is truly well placed."

Gahnt suddenly spoke a series of quick guttural sounds, punctuated with serpentine hisses and odd clicks.  The globes of light surrounding him dimmed for a moment and a cold breeze entered the tunnel.  A feeling of weight hung in the air.

"How can that be!?!" the creature hissed, alarmed.  "I recognize the sounds, but those words... never in my long existence and before were they spoken.  The lost designs of Tenck... all those spells...  You must give me that scroll!"  It rasped eagerly, it's pale, almost translucent clawed hands emerged from the shadows, reaching, grasping.

"Bide." said Gahnt with a certain amount of menace in his voice and tapping edge of the scroll to his temple.  "The information first."

"What do you seek?" it asked quickly, wanting this transaction to be over and this strange being to be gone as quickly as possible. 

"It is rumored that the Old Ones, the ones who are lessened with each passing..." Gahnt smiled wickedly, "it is rumored that a number have gone your route.  Even further, it is whispered that they have gathered together to form a council of their own.  I would know the truth of this."

"I have heard this as well..." the creature replied.  "Occasionally one of my kind will run cross path with another.  If our purposes are not in conflict, we've been known to exchange information.  Even in my day when I lived under the sun and breathed the wind, we would hear rumor of an Old One falling purposefully to the Cold Path.  Not so surprising, even for them.  Their future, gone.  Who would blame them?"

"And a gathering?"

"The Cult of Shadows.  Only words, and even then, spoke quickly and quietly.  I know not their purpose but can only imagine.  Such beings of light and life fall hard into the black."

"Anything else you know, a location, anything?" Gahnt asked.

"Only that me and mine, created from the flesh of man, are pale comparisons to those creatures.  Born in when the world was young, the rules were less defined. Each one was a force of nature then. Birthed in the brightness of creation, can you imagine what they might have become in darkness?" the undead thing rasped.

With a sigh, Gahnt tossed the scroll into the darkness.

"Good enough, thing that was once Terenska of Olbrik.  Keep your prize."

"Curious, you know this spell and how it can be used.  Why would you betray your own?"

"My own?"  Gahnt asked.

"Humans."  it croaked.

The young man laughed loudly in the still tunnel as he turned toward the exit and headed for the light. 

For no reason, the undead thing seemed to shiver at the sound.

the MOSIAC
EPISODE 5

He leaped and danced through the canopy of trees in joy, the aliveness of the forest washing over him, reviving him, filling his heart with all the wonder and happiness of a child. A brown speck in a sea of green and gold, he spun left, adjusting his angle in mid-air, catching a hanging vine and letting his momentum swing him wide and far until he finally let go, launching himself into the air once again with a backwards somersault, arms wide. At last, when gravity finally caught up with him, he dove like a dart through the misty air in the shadows of the forest below, twisting as he fell only to reach out and snag another vine at the last moment, severing one end with his claws to swing out fast and high, ever higher, into the tops of the trees with a huge smile on his broad face.

His mass seemed not to matter at all, he was a leaf on the wind, a creature of the forest. He burst through the emerald ceiling in an explosion of leaves, high above the tops of the trees with a graceful spin, basking in the momentary warmth of the sun and the gentle summer breeze across his golden brown fur, before slowly arcing back into the embrace of the living forest below.

As he fell, he grabbed a massive limb of an ancient tree, swung himself up and sprinted down its length, before leaping fearlessly into an infinity of green above and below. He dodged past a family of squirrels, danced around an owl, and winked at a snake nestled high in a tree as he slowly made his way to the heart of this sacred forest. Few of these creatures even reacted to his presence, so much he was a part and apart of the great cycle of life all around him.

This was joy, he thought, as if joy was something you could just wrap yourself in. While the others thought his form a curse, he secretly knew the truth.

It was a gift.

Once, he had lived as a man. He had done the things that men do. He had known love, bright blades, magic and war. He remembered wine and song and friendship and all the beauty of the simple moments before. And he had known pain, great pain and loss as well...

But that was all past.

Now, he simply was. His rebirth had been his deliverence, his freedom.

But some ties could never be broken, nor would he want them to be. There was still a legacy and the reason for this pilgramage.

It was the early evening. The night and the stars above were just making their presence known against the purples and oranges of the sky when he finally got to the clearing. The first cool breeze from the forest washed over him as he scouted the area, clinging lightly to the highest branch of a tall tree on the clearing's edge. He drank deeply from a waterskin at his side, enjoying the sensation of the breeze and the cool water as he rested in this scenic spot.

Stone ruins of a civilization long past lay scattered across the grassy floor of this sacred place. These people had lived in harmony with the world long ago and he thought they would be pleased by all they had been being reclaimed by the world they had so loved.

His eyes fell upon the remains of a once great temple. Its roof and many of its walls had long ago collapsed and only a few high columns remained as ancient reminders of its glory and beauty.

He made his way there. He was a whisper in the wind, a shadow against the twilight.

He rounded a stone column to see two young people, a boy and a girl sitting on a fallen pillar, admiring the night sky as more and more stars winked through that dark curtain. The slightly older boy got to his feet, turned and grinned. Whisper was always surprised that the boy knew he was there, but the bright eyes, so familiar, told him volumes about the man the boy would one day be. The girl stood and turned as well, adjusting her green cloak as she moved. She knew the smile on her face became his world, his everything.

"Father." she said, running to embrace him.

The Mosiac
Episode 4

the MOSIAC
EPISODE 3

The victory had not been without cost.

Whisper stood wearily bleeding from dozens of different wounds, his chest heaved as he panted heavily, leaning on his bladed staff amidst the piles of bones and still twitching limbs from the scores of undead that had attacked them. Beside him, Gahnt had faired little better, suffering numerous wounds as he burned through most of his magics in the first few waves of undead attacks.

Only Nynko seemed relatively unharmed, his ancient armor and shield protecting him from the bulk of the attacks against his person. Still, the battle had not been easy and he was completely exhausted and drained within his metal shell.

Suddenly, a bright light flooded into the cellar as the door to the upstairs was kicked open violently and a tall, powerful man in wooden armor came walking slowly down the stairs followed by a group of reprehensible looking indivduals.

"Balls!" cursed Gahnt as a broad shouldered woman with a massive sword strapped to her back came into view.

"Sheesh..." said the man in the wooden armor as he removed his hood, "what is it with you two?"

Nynko and Gahnt heard Whisper gasp upon seeing the man's face.

"Long time no see..." said the man smiling at the huge druid. "I heard you had come back." The staff at the man's side started to throb with an errie green glow.

Whisper said nothing but started growling, the fur on his back standing up with movement beneath as things shifted about.

Nynko jumped between Whisper and the mercanaries holding a dark blue potion that danced with stars.

"Not this time... not on these terms." he said, quaffing the strange liquid in a single gulp.

Without warning, thousands upon thousands of screaming, flying serpents drawn from the deepest depths of a madman's imagination erupted from Nynko's mouth and hurled themselves at the group on the stairs. The mercanaries scattered, screamed, dived and threw each other in the way to escape. At the same time, Gahnt made a series of fast arcane gestures as Whisper started to lunge forward.

There was a loud POP, a flash, and all the serpents and the three friends vanished.

The man in the wooden armor extricated himself from the pile of squirming mercanaries and growled in rage.

"Dammit! It was an illusion! Those bastards probably teleported halfway across the continent!"

"Or right up the stairs..." came Gahnt's voice from up above as he tossed a particularly nasty and massive fireball down the stairwell before shutting the door...

the MOSIAC
EPISODE 2

He wasn't sure if it was the bouncing of his head or the vile smell that woke him up. All he knew is that it was dark, hot and hard to breathe. He felt disoriented and confused. Everything felt wrong. He managed to bite down the terror when he tried to move and found himself bound.

Then he remembered.

He was in trouble. Alot of trouble.

Sadly, he knew from experience he was across tied across the back of a horse. Once, long ago in the foolishness of his youth, when he was mostly a mouth and attitude, he had managed to piss off some very dangerous people. As a result, he had been beaten within an inch of his life.   Just to add insult to injury, after they were done abusing him, they had wrapped him up with rope, threw him on the back of a horse with the intent of tossing his barely conscious form in a nearby river.

It wasn't a sensation one soon forgets. Fate, in the form a wild haired wizard with anger issues, had intervened that day.  He thought it was too much to hope for a repeat occurrence.  He would have prayed to the Gods of Chaos for deliverance, but he knew better than to ask for their dark help.

"I know you're awake." came a muffled voice from outside the bag around his head.  Still he recognized the speaker and realized he was in more trouble than he thought.

"Dammit Pelcoz! If you know I'm awake, get this damn bag off my head!" Nynko yelled through the canvas sack.

The movement and bouncing stopped.  There was a long pause before he felt a tugging at his head.  Suddenly, the sweet taste of fresh air assaulted his senses and the bright light of day blinded him. He gasped, taking a huge, deep breath.  He twisted his neck to get a better view of his captor.

"I had to think about it for a minute." said the huge armored man riding the horse he was tied to. "normally, I would make someone promise not to try anything stupid, but with you I figured that your promises aren't worth a damn anyway and I fully expect you will try something stupid."

"Bite my ass, Pelcoz. What did the bitch queen promise you to bring me back to that hot wet hell? You know they are going to torture the shit out of me for what I did. I thought we were friends once."

"Once I thought we were." the warrior priest replied with hint of venom in his voice. "but then, you decided to betray everyone and everything that mat-"

"Screw that!" Nynko interrupted angrily, "I won't follow any faith that makes me murder a bunch of..."

"Of what?!? Monsters? Villains?" The big man angrily said behind him. "You betrayed us. You stole from us. You walk away from anyone and everything you loved...and...for...WHAT?!?" He pulled to the side of he dirt path they were on and dismounted furiously, rushing back to face Nynko.

The disgraced priest gasped at the sight of the huge man's tattered remains of a face. The beautiful silver armor that was the big man's trademark was now dented and and bore huge gashes. To the right, massive burn marks ran up and down its length. Dried blood was everywhere over the man and he looked more than a little unsteady on his feet.

"You would forsake your own, for savages like this? Do you see what that beast you travel with did to me before he went running off like a coward into the woods!?!" Pelcoz raised up a bloody mass of bandages where his left hand would have been.

"Whisper ran off into the woods..?"

"Yes! We fought after I took care of your wizard friend. The moment I had gained the upper hand, the beast couldn't bolt fast enough and ran like a dog! Coward!" he coughed, "By the time I realized what he was doing, he had scooped up the skinny mage and ran to the forest!"

"These woods?" the bound priest asked.

"Yes dammit! Why are you grinning you traitorous bastard!?!" Pelcoz demanded, slapping Nynko hard with his good hand.

"Because..." he said, spitting blood, "I just realized that you've never fought a druid before..."

Despite the blood running out of his mouth, Nynko kept grinning like a fool as 400 plus pounds of fur and claws dropped like a hunting hawk from the canopy above. Whisper landed like thunder behind the huge man. Riding the druid's back and hanging on for dear life, Gahnt was also covered in dried blood, but otherwise uninjured and looked beyond pissed.

The big man turned slowly around as Gahnt got off Whisper and cracked his knuckles. Whisper drew his crescent bladed staff and whistled.

"Round two asshole..." was the last thing Pelcoz heard the wizard say before the forest exploded on him...

the MOSIAC
EPISODE 1

Beneath a pastel sky drawn in smudges of faded pinks and sickly greens, the enormous, insect-like city of Kathuchuk painfully crawled its way across the dusty red plains. Small metal claws underneath the rusted behemoth tore slowly into the barren ground drawing mineral sustenance into itself as the crumbling city sluggishly dragged its massive structure toward the end of time

Above one of the many dented and fractured platforms that overlooked this ancient and abandoned city there was a sudden flash of light. Three figures appeared and promptly fell into a chaotic heap upon the weather ravaged metal disk.

From beneath the mass of limbs, weapons, armor and gear, a voice could be heard panting breathlessly.

"How is it...that Whisper...always...lands on top...when we...are a little...off....on landings?"

The huge and beastial druid untangled himself from the pile of bodies and gracefully rolled onto his wide, clawed feet.

"I would say the universe has a poetic sense of justice Gahnt." Whisper rumbled, flashing a broad smile within his incredibly wide mouth, his dagger-like teeth shining brightly under the perpetual late afternoon sun.

The other two in the pile wouldn't argue the point. Of the three of them, Whisper was the only one who potentially served a higher calling.

"Y'know Gahnt," the smaller, armored man said as he slowly pulled himself to his feet and checked his belongings, "the real irony is that you're the one doing the teleporting and you always seem to get the worse of it."

"Go to hell Nynko. At least I got us out of that crapfest that erupted. I seriously doubt any of that town is left standing after those two demigod wannabes decided to have a pound fest with each other." The incredibly lean battlemage said as the glowing runes upon his flesh crept into a new pattern. He sat up and pulled out his clay pipe, delighted that it was still intact after the fall. He began to search about his person.

Meanwhile, Whisper looked about the wrecked city that shook and swayed with the sound of creaking metal.

"Uh Gahnt?" he asked.

"Yeah Whisp?" the battemage replied as he puffed on some strange herb.

"Where in the FUCK are we?" he said, gesturing at the broken expanse of decayed metal and shattered towers.

Gahnt wobbled a bit as he stood, the potent mix already having an effect on him, and glanced around as he brushed his wild mane of blond hair from his eyes with his free hand.

"Oh riiiight." he said sheepishly looking around, "I forgot this place was on my 'Oh Shit' list. I guess I forgot to remove it."

"Dare I ask?" Nynko asked as he cracked his neck. He started to examine his heavy and ancient armor for new dents.

"Places we can randomly teleport to in a pinch that will give us some breathing room. Usually odd pockets close to the Bright Line that are very, very difficult to track. It would take considerable time and effort to punch through and find us here."

Whisper yawned.

"Well... it certainly is one of the more interesting places you've dragged us to. What's the story?" the druid asked, handing Gahnt's pipe back to the war wizard as the he studied how the afternoon light reflected off a partially collapsed dome in the distance.

"Oh hell, it's been an age since I was out this way and a couple of bodies ago. I barely remember this place at all."

"Uhm..." Nynko said quietly. "Do you recall why you needed to take it off the list?"

"Not really bro. Like I said, it's been a very long time."

"It wouldn't have anything to do with the city trying to kill intruders?" The Priest of Chaos asked as he pulled out his warhammer. His armored fingers lightly touched the chaos symbol etched into its worn stone head and a blue fire erupted from it. He readied his shield.

"Oh balls." Gahnt muttered as a horde of lurching mechanical creatures, all different sizes and shapes, armed with spinning blades, hooks and chains, emerged from alcoves and shadows and surged toward them.