[PK] Heads or Tails

[DancingZebra267 1626]

 

 

[2001 - 2062]

13th of the Sun’s Smile, 2062

It was just like any other day for the old veteran.

Willik Ragstone awoke from his constant night terrors in the sewers beneath Alba. After steadying himself, he began his day by crawling out of the sewer and soon overheard talk of a ball within the Imperial Capital. Surely there would be many nobles there, and possibly generous ones as well. With that hope in mind, he limped toward the capital.

Upon arriving, Willik found himself near the clinic. Unable to read the room or the tension within, he was quickly shouted at and driven away. Still, not all were cruel – one young man offered him food and a handful of minas. With thanks given, Willik prepared to head deeper into the city.

Before he could, another young man called out to him.
“You’re looking for food and coin?” the man asked.

Willik stopped in his tracks and turned, making his way over as his horrendous stench filled the air.
“Oh yes, m’lord,” Willik replied.

The man offered to let Willik follow him back to his house. Unknowingly, it would be the last choice Willik ever made.

Upon arrival, the man held out a sack and motioned for Willik to peer inside. Naive and desperate, Willik did just that. The farmhand struck him upon the head, knocking him out cold.

When Willik awoke, it felt like something torn straight from a nightmare. He found himself confined within a cobwebbed coffin. Confused and panicked, he looked about and withdrew his Slayersteel mace, a gift he had received many years ago from his Chaptermaster beneath the Temple of Ard’Karden, the fortress of the Order of the Grail of Saint Lucien.

Forcing his way free of the coffin and through a nearby door, Willik emerged into an eerie basement. His vision was poor, but he could make out a large silhouette in the darkness, accompanied by the sounds of bones breaking and flesh tearing.

Clenching his mace, Willik limped toward the stairs, only to stop short upon seeing a young girl. Petrified, he demanded of her,
"Where is the farm boy? Where is the exit?"

The girl appeared terrified, covered in blood, clearly another victim. “I do not know. I do not know what you mean!” As she spoke, the sounds of breaking bones returned.

The horrendous noises echoed through the room, twisting in Willik’s ears until he could no longer tell nightmare from reality. His good eye went wide, glassy with terror, breath hitching as his grip tightened around the mace.

“This isn’t real… it can’t be…” he muttered, limping closer, every step unsure.
“If you won’t help me… then I’ll find my own way out,” he rasped, desperation and fear warring across his face.

With a broken cry, Willik swung his mace toward the girl, not out of hatred or malice, but blind, overwhelming fear. 

The girl managed to dodge the attack and retreated deeper into the darkness.

“Let me out!” the horrified veteran screamed. Not wishing to waste time fighting an unarmed girl, Willik turned and limped toward the stairs, slowed by blood loss and injury.

Just as a flicker of mercy crossed his shattered thoughts for the young girl, his foot caught by her hand and  he tripped, the world pitching forward in a helpless stagger. In the split second he hung in the air, a helpless gasp leaving his lips, the beast struck, catching him mid-fall and hurling him aside with force.

Willik slammed into the wall and then the ground, the impact driving the breath from his lungs as his body crumpled against the stone. The creature stood over him and threw him across the room once more. His frail body struck hard and collapsed again, he whimpered uncontrollably, hands raised in a useless attempt to shield his head.

“Please… don’t hurt me no more…” he sobbed. “Please… I beg of you… let me live…”
His body trembled violently as tears mixed with grime on his face. “I’ll do anything… anything…”

The creature pounced upon the war veteran, laughing at his pleas.

In desperation, Willik fumbled inside his filthy cloak and pulled free a grey-blue metal ingot, clutching it to his chest like a lifeline before extending it outward.
“I'll… I’ll give you this,” he whimpered. “Please… just let me leave here… I’m very good at taking orders!”

The girl cried out as she stood beside the beast, “Fight or DIE.”

Something in him snapped. With a dry cry, Willik lunged forward and swung the ingot toward the beast’s head with all the strength his body could handle. The ingot of Rokodra did nothing.

Willik fell to his knees, hands raised in surrender.

“Please…” he sobbed. “Let me leave here… let me serve, and it’s yours…”

The beast stopped. Its lower jaw sealed as it loomed over Willik like a winged shadow.

“Where did you get that?” it asked.

“I… I…” Willik stammered. “I was given it… I asked for food and a man gave me this… I tried selling it, but nobody wanted to buy it… I swear it.” He pressed his palms to the ground. “I just wanted to eat.”

With trembling hands, Willik handed the ingot forward..
“I swear it on my brothers,” he pleaded. “I’ll serve… I forgo my oaths…”

Then the beast asked, “Heads or tails?” as another creature emerged from the shadows.

“Heads…” Willik answered.

The coin fell uselessly against the stone.

In that hollow instant, Willik understood that GOD had abandoned him. The last of the fight drained from his limbs. He barely had time to look up before the beast struck.

Winged arms swept him from the ground. A toothy maw closed around his head with crushing force. There was a brief, terrible resistance – and then his skull gave way beneath the pressure.

Willik’s body fell limp and collapsed to the stone, utterly still.

The fight, the fear, and the voices ended in that instant.

[Glue 40]

Spoiler

My favorite begger? NO!😭

 

[Isvinity 729]

 

𝒯he girl's breath misted in the brittle air. 𝒯he cold of Norland was so fierce that her throat felt tacky with frost. 𝒮o far north, and the great tumble of the mountains aroung them, glittering with hard-pack snow like silver and stars in the moonlight. 𝒲hen the girl set her hand on the mace's forearm, the silver-coldness of the beggars ordnance was hard and strange under her scholarly touch, like the ice of the mountain. 𝐿ike the crown of a queen.

 

 

Spoiler

@kuerbis