Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

part 1┼


It was silent around the gates of the Citadel. The moon was high and bright, staring down in a luminous gaze on the limestone walls. There was a chill in the air below the fortress, which’s only heat came from flickering oil lamps strewn along the road to the entrance. On that road came Olimar and Clark, dragging their weak legs towards the front entrance, hiding in their coats, shivering from the cold. A band played in a canvas tent just along that road. They played a light, melodious tune that evoked visions of life among the grass strewn fields and the warm summer sun. Olimar and Clark paid no attention to a word of it. From what they witnessed, there was no will or ability to shove any visions of rolling fields and sunshine into their frightened minds; not after one of the most terrifying things they ever saw.

They made their way up to the main gate, and a guard stopped them. He spoke, "Sirs, I am sorry, but if you are wanting to come in, you must trespass during the daytime." Olimar raised his bleached face to the guard and yelled, "Are you blind!? We own this citadel, let us in!" He was unaware of the hood over his head. The guard had recognized them immediately and said, "Right; Open left gate," he said to the guard on the control tower. The tall, hulking metal gate let out a loud screech as it slowly opened. Olimar and Clark, with out haste, rushed into the open gate; as they went, the door immediately screeched shut behind them. They hurried to get back to the castle.

Clouds began to form overhead. Soon, the moon was concealed behind the dark overcast; a drop fell from the sky on to the dry ground below, and the rain quickly followed. Olimar and Clark were now dashing through the pouring rain until they finally got to the castle. Its exterior showed remarkable craftsmanship and excellent building arrangement. It had a white, granite-like material as its walls with embedded images of two gargoyles holding the frame of the tall, metal doors that made the castle's entryway. It boasted a large, stained-glass dome on the roof of the castle; it was used for the public chapel in the main entrance of the castle. Olimar and Clark made their way around the wide exterior to the side of the castle, stopping at a small, steel door at the castle's turret tower. Clark reached in to his coat to retrieve a skeleton key and inserted it in to the keyhole of the door. It unlocked and opened for them to enter

In the hallways, red, mink carpet lay along the floor, while even more impressive marble walls lined the wide hallways, displaying suits of armor, banners with the kingdom's flag and the royal family coat of arms, and statues of humans in poses, doing different things like either writing on a tablet or brandishing a sword high in to the air. Olimar and Clark shook off the soaking rain and placed their coats on a nearby coat rack.

Now in safety, they made their way down the long hallway, not once saying a word, until they made it to a wooden door; it was a door to their office. They pulled open the door and went inside. In the office, large shelves of books, scrolls, and tablets were organized and set all along the room. In the center of the room were two oak desks; scattered papers, written papers, blank papers, open books, closed books, it was all a mess. They sat themselves down and began to catch their breath a bit. Clark looked at Olimar, and he looked right back; from each of their expressions, they both knew exactly what they were thinking: Death Hunter was real, and what they witnessed was proof enough.

Clark was first to speak, his voice shaky," It....it was r-real. Death Hunter is true, he caused all this." Olimar nodded his head in agreement, his face still pale. "We need to do something; we have to inform the king of this." "No, not yet," Olimar responded, "even with our story, it would not be enough to convince him. He still does'nt believe Death Hunter is responsible for this fiasco, and you know how stubborn he is when all the proof he has is just word of mouth." "But he can trust us, right?" “I would like to believe, but if maybe if we could bring him some harder evidence, maybe a better description? You remember his face was concealed, right?" "Yes, but I also do remember that he carried a giant cross and a scythe on his back." "Yes, and all the ravens. Oh, but still it won't be enough."
"So would that mean that you're suggesting we should find that man again? Are you nuts!? We would be dead like the stagecoach, with his ravens gouging our eyes out, we just can't go through with that again! Please be considerate!"

"Silence!" Olimar and Clark knew this voice. This booming, commanding voice belonged to the General of The New Troy army, General Michael Vendetti Vostok. A towering figure compared to the likes of Olimar and Clark. He was well built; a healthy, clean and shaven body with strong muscles to complete the set. Long, wavy black hair and a chisled chin and face made dominance over Olimar's pudgy cheeks and Clark's albino skin tone. " This noise, I need it to stop! I try to get some sleep and the only think keeping me from that is your incoherent babbling! Just stop it already!" Olimar and Clark looked at each other with a sigh of relief and plainly spoke, "We are sorry general," and Olimar continued with, "yes, but you must understand." Clark chimed in, "We have witnessed one of the most horrid things in our lives happen before our eyes." "There was a man in a cloak who came up to our coach, his face was concieled, ravens everywhere. He killed our stagecoach and we ran away." "We were so scared. We came all the way back here on foot."

Michael listened with an attentative ear and responded, "I see. Who was this man, do you know?" They said, "we believe he goes by the name 'Death Hunter'." "Hmm," said Michael, "if this is true, than so must be the rumors. Would this have to do with all of the deaths lately?" "We believe so; well, were not sure, exactly."

Michael took a long, silent thought, and said, "if this is the case, this threat must be elimintated quickly." Olimar and Clark shook their heads in agreement. "Right then," said Michael, "I will send my men to find this assailant. Do you know where he is or where he is going, perhaps?" After a long thought, struggling to remember, Clark spoke, "I remember now! He was asking us directions to South district, he's probably on his way there. At 13 kilometers, he's probably made it if he has'nt faced any distractions." "Many thanks, gentleman," said Michael," I will see to it that my men head straight for South district when dawn comes, and we will purge New Troy of this assailant."

Olimar and Clark could'nt be happier. They finnally found their answer to their problems, and hopefully everyone else's as well. By dawn, the new day will begin and Michael, with his army of well trained soliders, will head to South district and purge once and for all the dark entity of death.


*note!! ~~~~ this is the first chapter of the Death Hunter series, and that means eventually I will be taking it off in order to continue the series. Enjoy it while you can!!!!

skittles the drummer