Seated upon a twisted throne of dead men, women, and children, the ruby eyes of the ghoulish king drifted down at jou, the sole knight brave enough to venture this forgoteen realm. With his black maine drenched in blood, he slowly and furiously pointed his broad sword up to the creature, meeting its crimson gaze.

"And what say you, pagan god," he shouted, having grown condifent after besting the dead kings trials.

From his seat the ghoul slammed it's fist, its jewel coated bones clattering onto the arms of its throne. Menacingly, It rose to answer the intruder's insult. Jou smirked, somewhat impressed at getting a rise from the monster men had once called god.

"Inscolence!" the skeletons voice was a shrill cold wind that echoed across the black halls.

"Heed my words mortal and heed them well. I've ruled lands glazed in spectecal and beuaty beyond mortal imaingings for eons. That there splendor exists at all, demonstrates an omnipotence beyond any living king."

The dead king stood in crimson and saphire robed sliks, trailing behind it. With its bone left hand, It grabbed the shimmering axe beside the throne and walked the steps made from former subjects. Jou prepared himself, raising his sword as the giant skeleton descended. He took a defensive stance, well-suited for larger foes. Still he had never faced one quiet as large.

"Lies!" Jou spat. "You blackened these lands which men, free men, toiled to create. You, demon, shackled those who bled to make it so that you could claim to have created it."

In anger the giant leaped and swung its axe. Though the attack was fast, the knight was equally as quick. Sparks ignited on the dead kings axe as Jou eavaded the strike, diving away into a roll.

Enraged, the skeltons ruby eyes flared at the warrior's feat of agility. Jou taunted the dead giant who swung his axe in an aimless fury, taking advantage of the kings frustration. Though the warrior effortlessly doged the attacks, Jou knew his window of oppurtunity would not come easily. This dance of axe swing and sword parry could only last so long.

"I'll have your skull mounted to my throne!" the King roared.

Jou's eyes widnedned, seeing his moment. Before the dead king had made the strike, he readied his blade.

As the axe swung, Jou dodged, knowing the dead giant would over-exert himself. Jou leaped and swung his sword in a silver arc at the undead king's crowned head.

Toppling to its knees, the kings skull fell from its robed shoulders and rolled towards it throne. As the fire behind its ruby eyes dimmed, so to did the fires of the torches die around the hall.

Slowly Jou knelt beside it and plucked the extinguished jewels from its eye sockets. He stood up and studied the crowned skull clutched in his hand.

"Mounted to my throne" he whispered.

A sinister smile appeared across his lips, foreshadiwing dark and unquenchnable ambition.

"In black kissed desert spires,
a goddess is appeased.
Though in men's hearts she bore fires,
death swifly followed if displeased."

- The cult of the city witch



Resting on the greatest of desert mounds, which sat between jungles of winding rivers from the lauding sea, the fires of the city of Jedawl danced above an ocean of sand in the black night like a beacon of light.

Within the labrythinghian streets of this desert jewel, built of yellow stone and cloacked in the finest colourful silks, merchants bargained, strong tavern wine spilt, and silk robed women quelled the insatiable lusts of hundreds of men.

Around it, a thick wall, several buildings high and lined with thousands of green banners on its moonlit stone, slithered through the sand that seperated city law from the savagry of men and beasts, all cursed to madness by the whispers from this unforgiving domain.

And high above them all, where the flagged tipped spires of the grand palace touched the black kissed sky, a symphony of sounds moaned through the veiled curtains of an open terrace and out into the night. Through this silken entrace that led into the quarters of the great sultan, a naked woman lounged like a poised leopard upon a bed of velvet at the centre of a room, watching a pot bellied man grovelling before her supple feet.

"Come to me my pet," ordered the woman, brushing aside her raven hair and spreading her legs.

Clearing his throat, the man obeyed her request and crawled.

"Stop."

Again, the man obeyed.

"Yes my queen," answered the man, nervously.

"Have i pleased you - have i done well?"

She answered his question with silence. Upon the bed, with strands of black hair that trailed across her pale shoulders, she rose to sit and crossed her bare legs. Anxiety and panic drew on the mouth of the man in front of her as her motions ceased. This servile response pleased the woman, who smirked with satisfaction at his devotion.

"Without question," she whispered, "You ridded me of that insolent dog who dared to resist my affection."

"I was glad to be of service, goddess. That he dared to question you and to resist an offer no man in his right mind could have resisted and with such insolence made it my duty. He made me sick."

"Oh yes?" asked the woman, intrigued by noticable hatred in his voice.

The man smiled at her interest.

"But it was thanks to you that we ridded him, your plan to tell the governor of his disgusting acts, to lure him to the outskirts of the city and set death upon him. He brought it on himself, you tried to help him because you are so kind, so beautiful. But he was rotten, mistress, even as you told us that we might aid him, and as he used your goodness to trick you. I knew it then and there in the back of my mind that this man had no heart and cared for no one but himself."

With a smirk on her red lips, and a slow beckoning finger, she lowered herself down onto her white back and reponned her legs.

"He didn't derserve you godddess none of them do," fawned the man, servilly as he prepared to pleasure her.

A thunderous sound came from the end of the great room. The bedroom doors, large and embroiled in gold, slammed open. Through the golden entrance, a gaurd, bedekced in light gold armour and carrying a sheathed blade, stormed in with an expression that fortold of bad news.

"Goddess!" the gaurd yelled, through tired breathes.

As the woman sat upright and turned to this gaurd, so to did the man at her knees.

"What is it-", roared the fat bellied man, irate for being interrupted.

"Silence dog!" shouted the woman, throwing a vicous look that quickly quelled the man's anger.

"What message do you bring me?" she asked, turning to the man at the door.

"I'm sorry to disturb you mistress, but the men, those that you sent to kill the stranger from outside of jewdal, they've been slain."

"What!" her scream filled the palace room and caused both men to shudder.

"Sorry mistress," started the gaurd, "- i-"

With a wave of her hand, she cut the gaurds response short. After this gesture ,which kept both men silent and watching, she stood up and began to pace the room in thought. Though naked and bare before them, she showed no sign of shame, but instead held a superior confidence in her womanly figure and posture. With each step of her bare feet on the marble floor, her expression, which in reaction to the news had been ragefu, slowly melted into a pridful satisfaction that blazed behind her eyes.

"Well," she spoke, the temper of her voice soft and clear.

"I suppose he'll think twice before returning to this city. Everyman from the great wall to the lowests tavern will be searching for his head. The poor handsome fool."

She looked over her shoulder at the two men, standing fearful and spell bound by her body.

"You are right mistress," placated the fat man, rising from his knees.

"Still-"

Her eyes darted to the Messenger.Feeling her piercing gaze on him, and hearing her steps grow, the he did the only thing he knew he could and looked to the floor.

"You, brave messanger. How old are you?"

Circling around the him, she placed a soft hand on his back. As she closed the distance between them, pressing herself against his body, she whispered words , like unintelligable incantations to his ear.

"Me," replied the man with a nervous crack in his voice.

"I'm nineteen."

In her melodious voice, a wiked chuckle rose.

'So young - so full of potential and promise - Tell me do you find me beautful?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe that i am who i say i am."

In a strange and sudden convlusion that caused the messagner to drop his blade, the young man breathed out deeply with a long extended exhale.

"Yes," he said, his voice, now devoid of the fear and awe that previously filled it.

"Then prove it, sweet boy. Step towards the terrace."

Without flinching, with no expression save an obedient and lifeless gaze that showed no sign of subconcious thought, he obeyed, walking towards and through the veiled sliks. In the distance, and still on his knees, the other man watched in awe as her commands were carried out. At the ledge of the terrace, with the vast desert city hundreds of feet below, the messanger looked over his shoulder. With both moon-light from above and the fabric threads carressing her naked body, she appeared through the wall of silk with the pose and aura of a diety .

"Now, stand on the ledge."

With one swift motion the mmessenger propped himself up and a cruel smile appeared on the woman's lip, watching as the gaurdsman stood dazed and so close to death.

"Jump," she whispered.

And on her word, the messenger leaped, diseappering into the void of the black night and city lights. With a chorius of screams and fireghened voices below, a crowd was heard, gathering around the man's grisly remains that painted the palace grounds crimson with young blood.

When grim news is told
and men's opinions become most clear.
A familiar stranger speaks most bold
and anger's a prideful ear,


- The cult of the city witch

CHAPTER 2



Beneath marble rooftops, where colorful fabrics reached across the lower black alleys that encompassed the dark streets of jedawl, men of the desert made their way to the nearest tavern, hoping to sooth their troubles with fine wine and finer women. Under the candle lit ceiling of one such building, with its brown fur coated seats, wine stained wooden floors and tall exotic women, men of every sort traded gold coins for strong drink and easy pleasure.

"Jedawl grows greater by the day," roared a large man, red wine spilling from his black beard.

Two men frowned at him and shook their heads at each other. These older jewdalian's, both bald and with opposing colored eyes, sighed at the specatcle. The younger man, clearly a soldier in his prime, still bore the mark of untamed pride, a trait that often lingered in those unwilling to learn from experience. As the man laughed, the older men's hands with almost shared thought, retrieved their cups from the table and soothed their irritations with wine.

The man closest to the right with a darker shade of brown in his eyes placed down his cup on the table.

"Why do you say such a thing," he asked, his anger bubbling behind his voice.

Surprised, the hazel-eyed Jedawlan to his left shot a warning glance at his direction

"Death is everywhere, it comes in the night without cause or explanation. And not to mention the raiders outside our walls. The city is getting greater, no, it is going to hell."

With a smirk spreading across his black-bearded face, the boastful Jedawlian quickly finished the rest of his wine.

"Ha details! The world is cruel as is life and yet we thrive. Thats what makes this city great. Where else in this world wou ld you find such a contrast of savagry and civility. No where thats where!"

His fist slammed upon the table, nearly upending the cups and drawing every eye to the toppled candle and forks.

"Forget it," the other man whispered.

"Reason has left him. But i understand why you say what you say, and what you are alluding to."

"So you too have heard - about the accident in the palace."

Irked by their whispers which excluded him, the man slumped back down into his seat, like a sulking child.

"Ha Spoil the night why don't you. You, woman, come here - pour me more wine."

"What happened could not have been an accident," continued the older man, "to fall from such a height, and a gaurdsman no less. "

"A gaurdsman is still a man, and even they can fall to melancholoy of the mind. SUch thoughts exist in us all."

"But in one so young. I know the boys mother, who works the bizzare, i've shopped their for years. Not even twenty years old she told me and he was not one to have such black thoughts."

"Still prattling!" the giant-jedawlian yawned. "Still going on about the matter. Death comes to us all and it doesn't care how old we may be. Although i do forget that neither of you old goats has seen as much battle as me, so maybe you aren't as versed in such matters."

A cloaked figure loomed behind the three Jedawlians in silence. The hilt of a sword became visible beneath his dark cloak. He let out a dry cough and began to speak.

"May i join you?" asked the stranger with a calm and confident voice.

All three men turned to him with a short gasp. Startled and puzzled, the Jedawlians exchanged glances at each other and then at the stranger who wished to sit with them. As the silence continued, an aura of intrigue swayed one of the older Jedawlians, a man known to enjoy a good tale from a stranger. He slowly pulled out a vacant stool from beneath the table.

"ple-"

"wait a minute!" said the boasting man, halting the old man's invitation.

"Who are you to join us. We know neither your name or your character. Worse still you conceal your face."

A satisfied smirk appeared on the large Jedawlian's black beard, as he leaned backinto his chair.

"True my face is concealed, but its only because i am better looking like this then with it off, believe me freind. As for my character, i'm generous to those i share a table with if that will suffice."

The confidence in the strangers voice, a steady and unnerved sound that stood firm as a rock, irked the large jedawlian, a man use to having those around him bend to his will. He grabbed a cup which was not his own from the table and drank deeply, finishing the drink by slamming his fist on the table.

"What do you want?" he asked, contempt seething in the back of his voice.

"Simply to hear more of what happened from the palace, so far I've heard only fragments that reflect pieces of truth, yet it sounds like you pair may know more."

"Ignore him," the elder gestured, "wine has his mind."

"Please sit with us."

The stranger sat down on the sheep skinned stool between the two older men.

"Thank you."

A black woman, tall and with skin as smooth and alluring as onyx, came to the table with a silver platter of cups in her hand. She approached the stranger, her lips melting into a smile.

"What can i get you dear?" she asked.

"Nothing for me," he replied, "but your best wine for these men who have let me sit beside them."

He pulled a handful of gold coins from beneath his cloak and paid her more than the drinks worth. The bearded jedawlian's anger tempered to contempt at the sight of the coins.

"I suppose you may stay. But you, wench be quick, i'm beginning to become sober from being too long without wine."

The woman threw a contemptous look at him and picked up his cup.

"So is it true?" asked the stranger, "murder in the palace."

"Unfortunately it is," one of the elders answered, "a young man met his end from a great fall."

His answer appeared to worry the stranger, who soon became lost in thought over the grisly details of the incident that transpired and went silent. His eyes glazed over , looking directly into the distance.

"Did you know him?" he asked, pulling himself from such thoughts.

"Only through an aquantice," answered the other elder, "But i've not seen her for some time now. I only pray that she's alright."

The woman returned to the table with three cups and a slik skin that smelt strongly of liquor. She placed the cups onto the table and begun unscrewing the silk skin. Then she poured the blood-red liquid before each man.

"Interesting," the stranger continued, "But if i'm not mistaken the palace grounds lay directly beneath the spire of the sultans quarters."

The elder men's expressions quickly soured.

"What is it?" the stranger asked.

"Yes- you're right but surely you're not saying-"

"Don't fret freind," the stranger said, trying to set them at ease.

"I'm not saying anything, merely guessing. I would not suspect the dear sultan of committing such an act on his own men."

"Then who do you think committed this act?" asked the other elder.

"I do not know but i have my suspicions on one individual, someone who came not long ago and made herself amiable to great and powerful men. Perhaps men as great as the sultan."

As the stranger finished the words, both the men's faces lit up in shared disbelief.

"Well - a woman has-"

The large Jedawlian, who had been quiet up until now, slammed the table with his fist before the elder could say anything, spilling what wine remained onto the floor.

"Sheath your tongues!" he roared "Baseless rumors mean nothing. The sultan allowed her asylum after she was attacked by raiders."

"But how do we know?" asked the hazel eyed elder, his nerves dwindling quickly before the irate giant.

"I've seen her stand beside the sultan at one of his speeches. Why would the he permit her this grand gesture. Why he even brought her to the honory parade just for the guardsman. Why would someone so trusted by the sultan order such a thing. Answer me that"

"You are a guardsman?" asked the stranger, his interest peaked by the title.

"Yes," the guardsman stood up and leaned close to strangers face. "An interrogator. And believe me when i say, your gossiping and tall tales will cease here or i'll have you in chains within the dungeons beneath the palace."

"Ease yourself friend. I understand your loyalty to your comrades and i understand that wine makes mans wills hot. But your infatuation with this woman should not cloud your mind to the possibilities, besides I'm not saying that this wom-"

"Insolent wretch, she's not just a woman, she is a godde- wait a minute."

The jedawlian stopped his explanation and squinted his eyes at the stranger.

"Lift your hood," he demanded.

"Like i said before friend I'd prefer to keep it on," the stranger explained calmly.

"And i may prefer to stick a blade in your gut if you don't do as a ask," threatened the man, now reaching for his blade to back his threat.

While fear would have come naturally to most men who had received such a threat by a city guard, especially in the city of jedawl, where they were known to enforce the law to a violent degree, the stranger couldn't help but chuckle.

"Easy there," he said, "While i'm open to friendliness, don't mistake me for a man who'll not answer a threat in kind."

The guardsman laughed at him, wine flying from my mouth.

"You think i don't know your type. I've seen men talk tough and then cry like new born babies under the sun, especially when i put hot irons to their flesh."

"And you find such things amusing do you?" asked the stranger, a violent undertone in his tone.

"A man must find some satisfaction in his work and I can say that i've found much in mine. Now, take off the hood or I'll do it myself."

The stranger let out a heavy sigh of frustration, knowing full well that the inevitable would occur.

"You'll not change your mind will you?" he asked soflty, "Not even for more wine."

"What do you think coward - wait - wait - you're"

The large jedawlian's hand shot out for the strangers hood while his other unsheathed his dagger. The stranger grabbed the giant's fingers in his hand with a vice like grip and, with an unsettling crack, applied broke them. A torturous yell filled the tavern. Desperate, the guardsman lunged for the stranger's neck with his blade.

With one seamless motion that only a master swordsman could have performed, the stranger deflected the attack and sliced the guardsman's fingers in a silver arc with the sword from beneath his cloak.

As spurts of crimson vomited from the stubs that were once his fingers, the guardsman fell to the ground. The tavern erupted into a panic, drunken men and half naked women screaming and running outside.

"It's you" cried the guardsman, still clutching the stubs.

"The desert jackal she ordered us to slay."

"Yes its me. And now - guardsman - you will help me to find her so that i may slay her."

"Deep in this desert city
lies a sport most dire.
Where a wicked queen holds no pity,
as she watches men and women expire


For she seeks the strong,
and those with unmatched wills,
so that at the palace she can sing her sorcesses song,
and explore dark and primal thrills."


- The cult of the city witch



CHAPTER 3



Beneath the blackest corners of the city lights of Jedawl, where its winding sand touched streets spiralled into the dens of vice, city men cirlced a pit drenched in blood and death. Under this arena, a refuge for the perverted and the debauched, candle lights danced upon the stone walls of a single doored prison cell. Withing this isolated chamber, a bandaged man sat against the scratched walls and a half beaten woman watched cautiosly.

Chips of rock from the ceiling fell down on the heads of the prisoners. The rattle of coin from drunken men echoed through its cracks and shouted bets of unsavory wagers filled the silence of the cell.

Forced from its hole in the wall, a large and long tailed rat scurried to the woman's bruised feet and sank its crooked teeth into her soft skin. She kicked and screamed at the rodent that had chosen to make a meal of her. The squeking and scratching rat collided with the nearest wall before it disappeared back into its hole.

Her frail limbs wrapped around her bruised knees. She cried to herself, her tattered brown hair shaking over her shoulders. Her fearful expression born out of coutnless unexplained beatings from the gaurds quickly subsided when she saw that the stranger across the room looked at her. Until then, his cold gaze had only targetted the ground. Now, something else replaced the fear she had felt. A desperate curiosity and a roaring need for justice.

At the moment he was thrown into the cell by the gaurds, his black maine and bandaged face suggested that he was a species of unfortunate vagrant, perhaps cornered and convicted for some otherwise minor act. But on closer inspection of his brown eyes, her mercantile experience with facing so many customers noticed a familar glimmer of refinment that few in jedawl had travellled wide enough to gain and only those from distant lands had managed to aquire. She knew he was a man of the world. She looked at him with cautioun and his eyes, filled with focus and sympathey, looked back at her.

"You there," she said softly, "Do you know where we are? - why were you brought here?- do you know my son?-"

"I was taken as you were," he answered, his voice frighteningly calm and composed. "As many were. And i mean to make the one responsible pay. Your son, he was the gaurdsman at the palace, wasn't he?"

She closed her watering eyes tight. An airless cry held back by will almost escaped her lips. She covered her mouth with her hand to prevent further crying.

"How did you know," she asked, pushing away her greiving thoughts.

"Why else would an honest woman like yourself be here, where those who spoke out about the sultan's new mistress are sent to be dealt with."

As he mentioned her name, a hate she had not shown since her earliest years flurried behind the woman's eyes.

"What is your name?" asked the stranger, his voice slow and reassuring.

"Feriah" she said, anger straining her soft voice. "He didn't return to me that day, my son, and i knew - i knew that it wasn't by chance. That witch took my boy from me, he took him away - my only flesh and blood. I stil remember his little face as a boy, and even after what happened with his father - gods."

"He'll be avenged," the stranger said.

His cold expression radiated a confident assurance that showed no doubt. He meant those words and he had the ability to see it through.

"But how?" Feriah asked, "How will you avenge my son when you're stuck in here with me."

"That was intended," said the stranger, a faint smile widening on the corner of his lips.

"You wanted to be captured, Why?"

A deafoning cry from above that signaled a gruesome death interrupted her. The shouting of the crowd, a ravanous madness that called for blood, grew blood-lusting excitment.

"These fights that have taken hold of the city, this sport, if it could be called that, is all in honour of that witch. The winners, those willing to spill the most blood are said to be given the honour of sharing the bed with her."

Shocked, a mixture of Horror, anger and disgust fell over the Feriah's face, invisioning the black scenario that would have her bed her son's killer.

"but i'm a wom-"

"She cares not," the stranger explained, "and her tastes of pleasure are as exotic as her sorceress ways. From what i've heard, she has a preferance and wants those who lust for blood. For what purpose i do not know. But wether they be man, women or demon is not a matter for her."

Feriah cursed beneath her breath, hate seething in her voice.

"I'd rather die first."

Her defiant words, admirable for one who had lost so much, were not reflected in her expression.

She looked up at the ceiling. Trickling blood seeped through the stones and fell down to her. A shudder of doubt came from her. The stranger, observant of others, witnessed her hands shake.

As his eyes fixed on this victim of cruel circumstance, something strong stirred in him.

He stood up with the rattle of chains. Then he started to speak to her in a kind and gentle tone.

"Listen," he said.

Feriah looked up at him.

"What lies before us will not be easy and i in truth i did not account for meeting you here. In all honestty i've given little thought to others since my incident at the tavern."

"What incident," she asked, fear shaking her voice, "What did you do?"

"I cut the fingers off a man loyal to that witch, then again, that too was not part of my plan. After the chaos that ensued had ended, I had that man tell me everything he knew about her and everything she had done. It was not an entirely pleasant experience for both of us but i did what i had to and i got what i needed."

"Good," said Feriah, vengefulness seething in her voice."

"Now listen," he said, "when we enter the arena, i will do all that i can to protect you but you will also need to defend yourself. Whatever lurks above seeks our death and if you give in, they will get it."

"But - I've never killed anyone."

"Up there, you won't have a choice. If you want to live, if you want to live long enough to see justice serve for your boy, then do what you need to do."

Suddenly, four gaurdsman stormed through the openning door across the cell. Bedecked in gold masks and shoulder plates, they grabbed Feriah and the stranger, unlocking his chains and binding his hands. They herded them out of the room.

"Wait - What is your name?" Feriah cried.

"Abbas," he replied, "Now prepare yourself and rememember what i said."

Through winding black halls with candle-lit stairs that spiraled above, The four gaurdsman led Abbas and Fariah at swordpoint towards the arena. Then, they emerged from the lightless tunnels into the pit of death. Until now, all notion of the place had been left to their imaginations and conjured from savage cheers and the smell blood. Now it sttod before them.

A cricular pit filled with crimson stained yellow sand surrounded them. A blood-cheering crowd seperated behind a grey iron cage rvelled and screamed. Abbas and Feriah stood directly below the black high ceiling, a furnace like chandelier hanging from it with rusted iron chains. The savage sight clearly and easily fitted Feriah's pre-imaginings.

A wave of hands and beer skins rose into the airas the arena erupted. A man, fat, bald and bedecked in a fine leopard cloak, appeared from the crowd. He waved his plump hands up into the air and, suddenly, the crowd stopped.

"Citizens of Jedawl!" he yelled, his voice loud and booming voice.

"You've seen gore, death, and savaegry, a concophony of carnage provided to you by our benevolent queen. And now she bring us one more act. This time two new challengers, two more would be champions will fight for our satisfaction."

"By the great sea," Feriah muttered, taking a step back.

Abbas reached out to her, placing a comforting hadn on her shoulder. Then, just as his hand touched her, he found the hilt of the gaurdsman's sword jabbed violently into his ribs. He quickly fell to his knees.

The crowd cheered.

"Stay calm," he said, fighting against the pain and standing up again.

"Tonight by decree of your new queen," the speaker continued.

"Those who dared to question our new ruler will face her greatest champion, he who has bested all others - he who knows no fear - he who has the love of the arena and the honour to serve her holyness personally. I give you, ibn the desert-bear."

The gaurdsmen turned to the door. They quickly openned it and, one by one, disappeared into the tunnels they had come from. Before long, they were gone, leaving Feriah and Abbas alone in the arena.

On the other side, an iron black gate began to creak open and a giant, shadowy figure approached them. Abbas heard the clang of metal behind him and looked over his shoulder. A rusted sword had been thrown into the arena and laid still the sand.

Sparks danced from sword and axe hung low to the ground. Then, the approaching warrior entered the light. He was a crimson-haired savage, tall, broad shouldered and bedecked with sitched plate and leather. A madness pulsated behind his wide eyes. He thrusted his blood stained axe high into the air. He yelled, letting loose a primal scream that laughed in the face of civlization with its barbarity. On their seats around the bit, his battle cry frenzied the crowd to a madness that would have frightened an army. Abbas knew he was no longer a rational man but a being whose sole purpose had been twisted for pleasures and death.

The barbarian turned to Feriah, a smile growing across his bearded lips.

"Stay back," Abbas warned.

The savage ignored him, his mad eyes growing wide at the tembling woman. The monster ran at them like a giant from hell, his crimson hair flaying above his wild eyes. Abbas knew they'd be dead without a weapon. He grabbed the hilt of the rusted blade on the ground and raised it against the giant.

Silver arcs of sword and axe whirled in the air like hurricanes. Ibn's axe and blade danced to severe Abbas's head from his neck. Feriah ran to the nearest wall, praying and begging for someone to aid them. The crowd, drunk with the sight of death, laughed at her cries.

Blades clashed and sparks danced as Abbas and ibn fought. Then, locked into a stalemate, their weapons pinched and held one anothers at bay. Ibn's eyes, a savage stare that held fury and fire in equal measure, faced Abbas's cold unrelenting gaze.

Feriah's hands swept and searched the sands behind them for a weapon. Then, as he caught sight of her again, Ibn's eyes fixed on her. Abbas knew he had found a more intersting target.

Ibn pressed his blades harder against Abbas's. A sadsistic smile formed on his lips as he placed greater effort behind his weapons. Abbas felt himself being pushed back towarsds Feriah. He dreaded what dark thoughts moved him to pursue her. Abbas pushed and kciked Ibn, halting his advance. Surpised the giant swung his weapons again.

Feriah felt her skin split beneath teh sands behind them. SHe had found something and she knew it. She grabebd whatever sat buried beneath her, recgnising the hilt of a blade and something clinging onto it. She lifted it and, upon discovering the severed hand on it, screamed in terror.

Worry flooded Abbas's mind. His eyes drifted for a moment and, upon looking back at Ibn, he felt the sting of sand in his eyes. Blinded, he stumbled back while ibn charged towards Feriah.

"By the great sea" Feriah muttered in fear.

The giant swung its blade at her but Abbas threw himself between them. He tossled with Ibn in the sand, punching and kicking like a wild dog.

Feriah lunged at him and sank her new-found sword into the giants back up to the hilt. Ibn yelled in pain, throwing Feriah off his back and trying to pull out the blade with little success.

Abbas grabbed the giants sword and, with the giant's own weapon, sent a strong, crimson arc towards Ibn's throat. The giant's headless body toppled to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Abbas rose to his feet, stained red with the dead giant's blood. .

Outraged, the speaker ran to the iron cage, shoving the crowd out of his way.

"Sieze them!" he demanded.

An army of gaurds poured into the arena from the door, surrounding Abbas and Feriah.

They grabbed Feriah first, shakling her arms. Abbas tried to reach her, chargin past the gaurds and slaying many before exhaustion finally wore him down. Soon after, he found himself outnumbered fiftheen to one and pinnned to the floor.

"Wait. Take the woman to my chambers," said the speaker disappointedly

"Our Queen will want her prizes prepared seperately for what's to come."

The bald speaker turned to a man amongst the crowd who wore a satisfied grin on his face. He reached into his pockets and threw a pouch of coin to him. The man grabbed it and laughed.

"And him?" one of the gaurdsmen asked, pushing a blade into Abbas's cheeck.

"Take him to the queen first and keep the bandages on, she likes to see them done in a little."

"Deep in space
lies a sea most dark
where men must face
their internal spark


This test
through evils drive
will not let them rest
let alone survive"




- Escape from Verena 5 (1/6)



CHAPTER 1



On the furthest fringes of unexplored space, great tides strided across a landless horizon around a planet outside the known system. A surface entirly engulfed in ocean had favoured it and a magnetic polarity greater than any in the system had sustained it. Submerged deep beneath the depths of this recently deflowered planet, A ship traversed its lonesome course between black formations. Its endless rocks extended from the dark, large and alien formations appearing at every trecheous corner.

Then, the nose of this wondering ship escaped. The black crevicecs of the thinning path disappeared behind it and an open and dark watery void stood before it.

Lines of high intensity beams from the ship hull lights spat into the surrounding dark. It retrated back into its black corners. The hull of the bulky ship, now suspended at the centre of endless watery space, drifted lazily towards the entrance of another cavern. The lights swayed from its hull in every direction, dozens of crators below and tunnel entrances above appearing in quick bright beams. Green glowing lines arched around them, slithering like roots on a tree.

A churning noise from the ships rear thrusters whispered in the silent depths, a low mechanical thrum growing louder as the ship inched forwards.

Now in the cavern, the belly of the ships hull descended quickly to the lower rocks. The surroudning water down the side of the hull bubbled into a vaccum of air and zynthonium fuel along the reinforced glass. This crude white mass formed from humanities former boon swept over the ship, leaving behind a long and sweepping trail.

Behind this thick screen that sheilded the cockpit, Robert stone, the five year contracted captain of this mission, sat before hundreds of analogue controls, re-checking and stabalizing the pressure gauges.

"Crush depth, at 2000 meters" he said, a confident tone in his voice.

The man, tall, dark and beared, leaned towards the controls. Under the flashing lights, lines that told of years of experience and fatigue riddled his long face. A strange perception that showed he knew more than he should about men's nanture flared in his brown eyes.

"Hello, do you read?" he said.

A narrow gap between two protruding rocks in the distance appeared under the lights and robert quickly pulled at the controls. The body of the ship spun on its axis, rolling and slipping through the gap.

Static of a fuzzy screen suspended over the ship controls screached out in the cockpit and a series of buttons and switches blinked in the dim light. A hundred lables for the on board ship systems appeared in Robert's view. On the screen of the monitor, the pale grizzled face of Jack Ducat, Robert's handler for the mission, appeared before him, his glassses barely hanging on his swollen nose.

"Approaching the coordiates now," Roberts eyes darted to the screen.

"Good to hear," replied Jack, "thought I lost you for a minute."

The ship slipped out of the narrow pass with a chip of rock behind it, rolling back to its normal position, .

Now before a wall of darkness, the rear wings of the ship coasted into a slow and deliberate stop. The end of its lines of light dimmed in the distance, like a suspended bulb in the pitch black night.

Then, suddenly, the captain's focus, which had soley been on the controls, caught sight of something flickering in the distance. He stared through the cockpit glass. Between the dark expanse that stretched on forever and the ship's body suspended in the dark, he saw a fading bright light.

Carefully, he moved the ship and aligned all the beams of lights from the hull to whatever it was that shined so brightly.

As he gained speed, the captain's eyes discovered shadows of structures. Long black construction beams connected between rocky canyon walls appeared one after the other.

The head of the ship ducked beneath an inoming ridge. The lifting nose of the craft rose from underneath the rock and the captain, startled, quickly slowed its speed. A large elipses shaped station built into the side of the formations, apeared into view, countless lights flickering from its inverted base, and its head riddled with pylons and metalic antenaes.

"Son of a bitch is lit like the fourth of july," Jack said over the the intercom.

"Standard procedure Jack," replied stone, "You wouldn't know where the hell they where if they didn't do it."

"Yeah, you know what. Discount the creepy shit and its kind of prretty," exclaimed Jack, "in a creepy way."

Robert's right hand lifted the mug from the dashboard and sipped at his coffee. Bruned by its temperature, he quickly dropped the cup, which smashed to pieces on the floor.

"Shit" he cursed.

As he reached down to the ground to pick up the cup, his eyes lingered at a photo stuck to the lower part of the dashboard. It was him, his wife and his son, deacon. Robert felt a small tug at the back of his throat but quickly forced down the feeling that he knew better to ignore.

Slowly, he lifted up the pices of his former coffee cup and turned to Jack on the screen. His oblivious operator, who seemed more preoccupied with his ramen, seemed not to have noticed the accident.

"Creepy how?" robert asked him, slurping some of the coffee from his fingers before resting the pieces on the counter.

"Well the planets terra inconita right," Jack began. "God knows what else is out here. That light could draw something right to them."

The flickering lights of the station grew brighter in the distance, refracting as bright blur on the the pane of the cockpit.

"Same thing could be said about my ship," replied Robert, "I've been here longer than most and i've never had trouble."

"Yeah, but that was sector delta, and, no offence, but it ain't exactly the biggest pond on the planet. But this, where you are right now, thats waters, real waters. The kind of stuff that makes earths sea look like a puddle. You could be there for an other decase and ain't ever gonna scout everything."

Robert picked up the mission brief tablet.

"Well," robert sighed, "The company wouldn't send me somewhere without it being necessary and scanners didn't pick up any signs of anything dangeous on the planet. So we should just assume its a routine equipment gone bad situation."

Something in the back of the captain's tired mind told him that a simple comm talk wouldn't suffice. He knew he'd have to go ashore before he could make his superioers adequetly happy. Anything less and he'd have a pile of paper work to deal with.

"Okay," he sighed reluctantly,"I'm gonna try and make contact. Wish me luck"

"I won't - not because i don't believe in you - but because you better make sure things go smoothly, It'll be a bitch to deal with the fallout if there's any casualties down there"

"Well" Robert said cheekily," that might be out of my control."

The captain's hand moved the ships throttle forward, sending the craft into a steady speed towards the station.

Suddenly, Robert's focus quickly spun into dizzyness. His eyes quickly blinked and his focus faded.

"Shit," he muttrered.

He had rested in bed two days prior but the small amount of sleep failed to keep him up now. His mouth widened into an involuntary yawn and he quickly wiped his blinking eyes.

He rose from seat of the cockpit and began to turn to his bed in the middle deck of the ship. Yet before he could turn his back, something odd in the corner of his eye caught his fading attention.

On the outer glass of the cockpit, the warm smear of a hand and arm print ominously painted its surface. The troubling sign appeared recent like someone or something had dragged itself along the head of the ship.

Stunned, the captain reached for the hull monitor controls, rewinding for something that passed by. The tapes showed nothing, just a series of columns passing by the ship from a distance.

His fatigued mind wondered whether what he had seen was real or if the fading print existed long before his departure from the planetary orbital dock. He pictured the mechanic leaving a memento while half-assedly prepping his ship but this seemed too far fetched, considering the hull being burned on entry. No, he thought, judging it be too recentto be that. His eyes watched the print disappear into the glass, like a dream at its conclusive edge.

Suddenly, Jack's voice blurted into his ears from the screen.

"Seems this is the bio- gene subsidiary. A lot of off-record stuff down here. So its no wonder i didn't hear about it earlier. It seems to be high up on the hush-hush list, so stuff the powers that be would keep us from knowing about."

"Is that so," Robert said softly, concern still hanging onto his voice.

"You good there"

"Yes - yes" he replied.

"I know we're supposed to do these weekly cathcups while your deployed but i know it can get - well - lonely down tehre. So if you do ever want to talk more than feel free to send me a message."

"I - I appreciate that"

"That's what i'm here for. People ain't supposed to be alone too long and that goes double in your line of work. Now i know you probably prefer some alone time - since - you know - your family situaion - but be careful because its easy to go mad if you don't keep in touch"

"That's good to hear - Listen, I'm gonna grab some shut eye before reaching this place. I'll have the ship computer handle introductions, docking and also have it wake me once we arrive."

"Probably better if you're awak-"

"It'll only be a couple of minutes," robert interjected.

"Okay, just keep in touch"

Jack's face disappeared from the screen. Robert's fingers pressed several buttons on the dashboard and his other hand turned two switches. As they flipped to the oposite setting, a high frequency sound echoed loudly across the dimly lit cockpit, like a loud and ghostly whisltle.

"Ship computer," he said firmly.

The winding metalic beams and rusty underwater rails stealthily passed the ship. An errie screach of a sound follwed and echoed into the cockpit, like cries of a dead foundary.

"Jesus, I need something to listen to," robert silently muttered.

"Ship computer" he repeated.

An bright orange figure on the cold black screen where Jack's freckled face had been walked forwards and saluted. It wore the standard company jumpsuit of commerical ship artificual intelligences. The beardless organge face smiled at him, its features sharply resembling an old maintenance operator or mechanic.

"Yes captain," it replied with a low and reassuring voice.

"You didn't respond before, Axel" said the captain, yawning again.

"Sorry captain," the figure took out a digitial wrag and wiped its hands.

"I did a system diagnositc check while being rebooted which delayed the interface boot time by a few seconds."

"No problem, could you play something calming from the list."

"On it captain."

A low sound from the suspended speaker began to play in the cockpit. The captain smirked, quickly recognising theme song from the classical movie , jaws.

"Very funny," he said.

"I'm glad you think so captain," replied the AI.

As it finished its words, the music in the room changed to an upbeat rendition of Robert's favorite artist.

"Thank you. now James-"

The captain stopped his sentence mid way and, quickly, released the throttle. The ship stopped in its tracks.

He stared out the glass, his heart beating like a drum.

A man, suited in a full atmospheric diving suit and with a weilder in his right hand, stared at the cockpit, floating in the partially luminated dark like a deer in headlights.

The expressionless mask which the man wore watched him intensly. The captain felt his hairs stand on end. He waved at the stranger suspended in the dark waters before his ship. He hoped he would wave back or at least give him some assurance of normalcy in this otherwise terrifying meeting.

A menacing light on the visor of the man's mask shined coldly, like the glow of a tigers eyes in the dark.

Slowly, the figure's free hand pointed into the distance at some rusted docking rails. Robert found the act less reassuring as a wave but at the very least it cemmented the idea that he was heading in the right direction. Then, slowly, the stranger's body turned to the dark and floated off into the distance, disappering into black waters.

"Captain," Axel asked.

"Yes - yes - Axel ," Robet said his voice shaking.

"I need you to take control of the ship. Poll the stations customs and docking comms and tell them that were part of the companies inspection and slavage division. The company credentials should work but wake me if they don't, I- i'm going to grab some shut eye."

"Auto pilot engaged and polling comms to begin docking of the ship," james said, "sleep well, captain."

Robert pulled himself up from the controls and walked to his qaurters.

Now before his bed and a wall of photo's he had ammassed while on deploymet, he felt the wave of fatigue that had previouosly hit him.

His eyes drifted. He bent down to the bed and layed comftorbly on his back, his eyes faced up at the rivetted ceiling. They closed and the dim lights of the room slowly drifted into nothing.

The sound of heavy breathing woke him from his slumber. He openned his eyes. Immediately, his blood turned cold as ice. Two masked figures loomed over him in his bed, their masks identical to the one worn by man in the water from before. They stared silently at him for a moment. The captain tried to yell for Axel but before he could release a word, he felt the hard end of a gun on his skull and quickly fell back to sleep.

"A mother enraged
faces a fate most dire,


and though the jackal is caged,
he'll not gently retire."

- Cult of the city witch



CHAPTER 4



Beyond winding passageways that seperated into a sprawl of black alleys near sand stained streets, the bright and colorful market stalls of the grand bazzare sat empty in the cold and desolate night. A prison wagon, drawn by three black horses and a white staliion, raced violently towards it, eager to see its cargo delivered to the chambers of Jedawls new queen. Its wheels grinded the sand stone ground and the horses hooves trampled all in its path. The draped cell attached to the back of this mobile prison rattled at every bump as it madee a sharp right turn.

Three gaurdsman sat at the helm. One bore the horses reigns while the others cluthed their crossbows, their eyes watching for those brave enough to disobey newly governed martial law.

"Turn the next corner but be careful not to pull the reigns too hard," yelled one of the gaurds. He lifted his weapon into the air and pointed it at the passing buildings where open windows passed by like trees in a forest. He fired a bolt into a few of the buildings and let loose a chuckle for the act.

"Why, the steed will turn no matter how hard i pull," replied the driver, bewildered.

The gaurdsman who had launched a volley into the passing windows lowered his weapon and looked towards the driver, a toothy grin begun filling his face.

"Yes but i'd not risk damaging her, she'll be put to the betting track soon. And i promised to sell her in top quality."

"The beasts mind is already damaged, she'll take no rider. Remeber aleem. That white demon threw her off full gallop across the desert canyons. Only a fool would consider her for the betting tracks."

The wagon passed the threshold of the bazzare. Agravatted, the white stallion head barged into the bodies of the horses at its sides. Its eyes became wild and black and white foam hanged tightly around its lips.

"I may have withheld that part" the gaurdsman chuckled. "Besides it won't be my problem once my purse is filled."

Fear gripped the other horses as the untamable stead swung its head wildly. Now completely mad, the white horse kicked at the frame that held them all in line, shaking the neck of the wagon.

"I pity the man who rides her."

Now on the dirt road of the main street that led to the sultans palace, the body of the wagon shifted and sweighed as dry sand turned to hard hard cut stone. Its riders, bedecked in gold masks yet with nothing to secure them, slammed into one another.

"Shit" one of them cursed.

Within the conealed cell behind them, Abbas, chained and still bandaged, sat calmly quietly. He neither complained nor moved even as the body of the wagon thrashed wildly.

"He's been qiuet," said the gaurdman who sat to the left of the driver. He pointed to the Abbas with his crossbow.

"The prisoner, he's probably salivating over getting his reward. I know i would be."

"He must be some warrior to have killed the desert bear. I only saw him once in the arena but he fought like a demon. But this man, I can't see how someone half his size could have bested him. He's as skinny and lean as jackal, yet he bested a bear."

Abbas let slip a prideful smile, reminicing on the fierce battle with the crimson haired giant from the pit. He did not seek out violence but he was still a man, and as a man could not help but feel some pride in having slain someone so fearfully viled by many.

Yet this alone was not what caused him to smile, the new moniker he had aquired pleased him. The jackal, a suitable title, he thought.

Silently, he started to scrape between the locks of the chains that bound him. He stabbed and probed at them with a small pick between his fingers again and again. . Like his moniker, he had scavaged what he could to prepare for this eventuality and knew he'd be free without his captors even being aware.

"When the queen is done with him, perhaps we'll find out and pay a visit to the arena."

"Ha - like you have coin to gamble."

The jackal heard a sudden click and feared the gaurds had heard it too. Fortunately for him, they did not hear it, the sound of rumbling wheels and passing wind deafening them somewhat.

The chains quickly loosened behind him. His thoughts shifted to fate of the greiving mothers from the arena. He felt a strong and almost parental sensation that clawed at his heart. She was another victem of the cruelty of this desert city. Neither given reason or explanation for the suffering she endured. Past thoughts of his own pains surfaced in his mind. He breathed deep to quell them. In suffering, the two were somewhat similar and he would see to it that she at the very least recieved justice.

The chains touched the cell floor. Now he was closer to his goal and his plan, one laid out far in advance, still followed its set course despite the incident at the tavern and Feriah's involvement.

"I'm sure they'll be plenty of gamblers we can persuade to let go of their winnings." said the driver, a thuggish tone coating over his voice. "Gambling's a very serious crime, you know."

"Oh is that a fact," the gaurdsman to the right laughed.

"Oh yes it is. I'm very strict on all forms of gambling but only when its commited by others."

"Ha," the driver laughed, "You dog."

The jackal cleared his throat, preparing to speak.

"Good man will you come here."

The wagon slowed to a crawl. Surpised, the gaurdsmen turned in unison towards Abbas.

"You got something to say," said the driver "then say it. Otherwise Keep quiet,"

Something about the sharp look of the jackal's eyes struck fear into the driver. Anxious, he turned his gaze from the prisoner to the road ahead.

The others, armed with crossbows, yeilded braver faces. Together the pair looked at him as one would watch a caged beast, entertaining to look at but from a distance and fearful for the moment it may strike.

"Hey, he's a killer," one of them whispered, "don't buy it."

"True, He may be a killer but he's in chains," the gaurdsman to the right placed down his weapon on the seat, climbing into the cell at the back of the wagon.

"That's what i want to dicuss," said the Jackal.

"Could you loosen the chain over here. Its beginning to pull tight on certain parts. I'm sure as a man, you can understand."

The gaurdsman laughed and then slowly knelt down in front of him. Abbas watched him closely. The gaurdsman scratched at the uneven hairs on his chin and began to smirk.

"What, do you want me to scratch your balls for you as well?"

"Better if you don't and just loosen the chain around me i think. for both our sakes."

The gaurdsman punched him with his right fist, bloodying the Jackal's lip.

"You think i'm stupid," he whispered.

He moved closer towards him. Only, an inch away from Abbas's face.

The driver and the other guardsman behind him laughed at the act. Careless, the man before the jackal turned to join them.

"Absolutely," muttered the Abbas.

With a length of his loosened chain, the jackal leaped at the distracted gaurd and wrapped it around his neck. They tussled upon the ground, fighting like dogs in a ditch. Startled, the others looked back and leapt to aid their comrade, grabbing their weapons into the back of the wagon.

Abbas, quick and agile, rushed out of the wagon cell, leaving the aphyxiated gaurdsman on the floor. His hands reached for the ceiling bars, gripping them and pulling himself up to the roof of the wagon cell with ease . The shadows of passing buildings and market stalls whipped by the transport in a haze of dark colors and rushing wind. Abbas saw the white steed that the gaurds had spoke of before and an risky idea came to mind. He jumped towards it, leaping from horse back to horse back.

Arrow bolts flew by him from behind. The gaurdsman, clammering to the helm, yelled and cursed in their native tongue.

The jackal quickly looked down at the frame which held the horses aligned. He caught sight of something, a metlic ring glimmering under the moon light. The jackal kicked at it, seperating the first two horses from the wagon. Abbas and the white stallion, free from their shackles, rode ahead while the gaurdsman were left behind in a pillow of dust and sand. The horse, feroucs and as wild as the gaurdsmen said, fought against its new rider, its hind legs rising to throw Abbas to his death.

More bolts flew from behind them and the clanging sound of an alarm bell started to ring into the night. The Jackal knew he needed another plan. Skillfully, he reared around the white beast. Together they headed towards the wooden coach, dodigng and weaving between incoming arrow bolts.

With the distance between horse and wagon closed, Abbas leapt back on to its roof.

Surprised, the gaurdsman to the right of the driver pointed his crossbow up at him.

Abbas, quick and strong, yanked the weapon from his grasp. The gaurdsman screamed.

"Stop him," he cired.

"Impressive weapon," said Abbas with a mocking tone.

He fired two rounds into the skulls of the gaurdsman to the right and left of the driver. Their bodies slumped off the wagon, violently rolled over by its spinning wheels. Frightened, the driver pulled the reigns and the wagon came to a sudden stop.

He scrambled down from his seat on the wagon, falling face first into the sand. Amused, the Jackal watched him from atop its roof. The gaurdsman ran, fleeing into an alley just right of the street.

Just as he gave chase, the jackal heard something. Behind him the sound of horse hooves filled the night. The jackal looked over his shoulder. The white stallion that he had freed ran towards him. Surprised, he waited to see what it would do. THe horse slowed down, coming to a sudden stop. It quickly stood up on its hind legs and slammed its hooves to the ground.

Its large ebony eyes fixed on its liberator. Its head sweighed lightly towards the jackal, almost as if gesturing him to come closer. Abbas obliged the steed, his hand reaching out to touch its nose. The horse closed its eyes. Abbas understood its intent. He jumped onto the back of the white horse who not long ago had tried to kill him. It did not rebel and walked in motion with the movement of the reigns. Somehow, Abbas knew this stead was inextciably tied to him.

Mounted, they went into the alley after the fleeing gaurdsman. A heavy panting echoed on the wind against its thin walls. The stead picked up its pace and a gold faced figure quickly appeared in the distance. The gaurdsman looked over his shoulder and screamed in terror.

Now only a few paces behind, the steed caught up to him effortlessly. The Jackal aimed his crossbow and, with one precise shot, sent the gaurdsman flailing on the floor with a bolt in his bloody leg. He stopped the horse and dismounted, still pointing his newly aquired weapon.

"Damn you," the man cried, squeezing his wound.

"Now," said the Jackal softly, "Where is the woman?"

Suddenly, the sound of a dozen moutns echoed behind him. The gaurdsman smirked. Abbas turned and saw armoured horses in the distance at the entrance of the alley. Torches flarred, revealing more gold masks carrying swords and crossbows.

"Damn it" he cursed.

"They were carrying a prisoner," one of them yelled, "find him."

The wounded gaurdsman looked up and spat at Abbas.

"Fool they'll be here any minute," he said, venom coating his words.

He looked at the wagon driver on the ground and a clever thought crossed the jackal's mind.

"I'm going to need you to be silent. I'm also going to have to borrow something from you."

"With dark pleasure unbound
a man lusts for mortal sin,


A woman is quickly found,
with an odd but curious djinn."

- Cult of the city witch



CHAPTER 5



Within the auspicous financial district of the rich and powerful in the city of the Jedawl, lights of a fire dimmed in an ominous circular room with a closed golden door and surrounded by five tall elegant glass windows on black walls.

And as serphant like shadows slithered up its high ceiling and over expensive furniture and fine crutains, the drapes swayed hypnotically in motion with an unatural breesze as if something dark and unseen breathed from some other symmetircal realm.

Seated at a wide and large dinining table from one another, a man, lightly wrinkled and with a sordid smile on his face and Feriah, her long black hair washed and braided over dazed eyes, ate from a silver plates of fine meats and fruits.

The man had the look of clinging youth with light circles beneath his eyes which held an experieinced and almost unnatural maturity. His hair was thinning above his bald head and he wore a long green and brown cloak over a fine gambent with worn leather shoes on his feet.

Across the table, Feriah wore a dress uncommon for her proffesion, more common for the the noble women of Jedawl with its fine red matterial interlaced with golden yellow fabrics than wokring the bazzare by day.

With slow yet graceful movemebnt, the man's head tilted as his eyes drifted towards her.

"My dear you have exquisite hair. You should take that as a compliment, you really should. I've been around a long time and have seen many women but none quiet capture the matured color yours holds."

In a silent and zombie like state with no grace befitting consciousness, her body sunk slowly above the floor to the right. Quick to save her, the stranger stood up, ran towards her and propped her up straight on her seat again. Then, grabbing a closer chair nearby, sat beside her.

"Now now, no need to do that," he said gently, "The spell should wear off soon, hopefully your not as erratic once it does."

With a semi conscious sound that hinted of disagreement, her eyes rose up and drool slowly dripped down her mouth to the rug on the floor.

"Oh to be human," reminisced the man, "it must be a tragedy.Having to live such short frightened lives. No wonder she wanted to escapee the its trappings. Who should have to endure such a thing."

From across the room, the door slammed open and a gaurdsman with a spear and a strange book in his hand enetered. As smoke faded and escaped through the door behind the gaurdsman, the man beside the woman quicky rose to his feet and ran to shut the door. When it closed, he threw a scornful look at the uncaring gaurd.

"The queen requests your audience tonight," said the guard coldly.

"Did your so called queen say why?" replied the man with scorn as he walked back to his seat.

"No and she has no need to for the likes of you."

He threw his hand out with a disregard and under the orange glow of the fireplace, the strange man's surprisingly short frame became more visible.

"Oh but why would she, she wouldn't want all ehr dirty little secrets getting out now would she. Bloody mortals."

"Just get there monster or would you prefer the alternative."

"I'll be there," he said begrudgingly, "Just go outside and stand weait for me. I'll come shortly."

The gaurdsman did as was asked and left the room, closing the door behind him.

"At least he remembered to do that, the blind fool." muttered the man.

"Oh well," his eyes drifted to Freiah across the table.

Another unintellagble moan escaped her lips and her body slumped slowly into the chair.

"Believe me the witch who conjured me had far worse plans for you. you're better here."

Across the dim room, another powerful breeze came and the embers of the flame to danced gracefully around the room. Suddenly, behind Feriah, the door opened again. This time, a different gaurdsman chose to enter.

"I told you i'd come out soon. Why not make yourself useful mortal and bring more fresh olives and meat, the ones i like. My guest and i are getting sick of these meats and fruits.

Unflicnghing and staring in silence, the gaursman stood there. His gaze, a cold and piercing stare locked on the short man seated at the head of the dining table with next to the fireplace.

"What are you waiting around for, are you deaf. be quick about it lest i tell your unholy queen about your incometance or something of the sort," said the man with venom oozing in his voice.

Pulling out a leather book from his cloak, the stranger started to read with whispered words.

"Are you deaf mortal, i said move - wait - what are you doing," said the short man, rising slowly from his chair.

The gaurdsmsan continuied with his eyes set on the man whose face started to grow pale with fear.

"Wait i sense something different about -"

Before the short man could finsih his sentance, a cloud of black smoke slithered from the fire place behind him and, like chains, wrapped tightly around his limbs. Jerking and writhing, he tried to break but found the imaterial binds too strong. The gaurdsmans eyes darted to Feriah, who, still sat in a sleep like state, was unfocused on the events transpiring around her.

"Release her - now!"

Taking off the robe and gold mask off, the Jackal revealed himself and stepped towards the bound man with a crossbow pointed to his heart.

"Or you'll be sent back to the shadows with an even more grevious wound, Djinn!"

The eye's of the man chained by smoke widened in terror, his breathing turning into panicked gasps.

"Who are you!" he cried "and how did you get past the gaurds."

"I'm the one they've called the Jackal and you will release her. Or i'll send you back to fire and smoke."

"Jackal, what are you a dog or a man, no matter. Whatever you are, you ar-"

The jackal raised the book and contninued his previous chant, sending the short man before him twisting in pain.

"HOw did you know what i am?" he yelled.

The jackal did not answer.

"Wait stop - stop and i'll tell you all you wish to know about that witch. Just don't send me back."

Closing the book in his hands, he pressed the crossbow even harder on his chest.

"Tell me djinn," he said coldly.

"But of course," said the man with a far more tone agreeable then the Jackal expected. "But first please illuminate me mortal. How did you come here, past my gaurds."

"I borrowed this garm from one of the wagon drivers for the queen," said the Jackal coldly, "the poor tongueless fool is probably at her chambers as we speak, involved in whatever twisted ritual she came up with."

"Wagon driver?" the djinn's eyes brightened, "wait you were the prisoner at the arena earlier today, the one who slayed the desrert bear."

"The very same, and as to how i made it here. I merely pretended to be abnother of her worshippers. They mentioned an obnoxious and affluent man who visits the witch queen regularly. They described him as you are short, odd amd pale as a ghost with abnormal saphire eyes. Suffice to say the stories around you picqued my interest, particularly those around you spending much time in a room of smokeless flame, and paying for woman to dine with."

"I'm impressed mortal, not many would could have beaten the bear and fewer still have deduced what i am so quickly on their own."

"Stop grovelling," said the Jackal, pressing his weapon harder on the Djinn's chest.

"But"

"But what?," asked the Dinn with a whince.

"But what i can't understand is why a dinn would wish to dine with human's and then let them go after. Especially one working with a witch so vile. So why are you doing this?"

"Such a restricted view of the world you mortals hold," the short man smiled.

"True i aided that whitch, true she is not the most pleasant mortal to be around but i am not one of those ill tempered brutes formed from smoke and fires. My name is Nasnas."

"And why did you aid that witch, Nasnas?"

"Like you said, she's a witch. An old and powerful one at that. SHe captuired me, not unlike how you have me now. But she casted some twiseted curse, one that gave her complete dominion of my abilities. While under her spell, she harvested secrets aquired over centries, powerful spells to confuse and entrance mens minds, secrets to everlasting youth and vitality, the ability to harness the very elements. Then she had me molded into this thrall and mortal state. Cutting off my full powers so that none would match her strenth."

"Intersting," said the Jackal, slowly pointing his weapon away from the djinn.

"bah - as if i'd want to stay and challange her. Being mortal is far too much fun."

"By the great sea," a woman muttered.

Across the table, rising from her slumped state with her hand on her head, Feriah awoke and stared at them.

"I'm glad you two are having a great conversation, but could you tell me whats happend. I feel like i've had too much to drink."

With a light smile, the jackal went to her, helping her to her feet.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome" said the Jackal and the djinn in unison.

Despite the warning look the Jackal gave him, the Djinn smiled cheekily.

"No need," replied the Jackal, now looking at Feriah, "its the least after your aid in the battle in the pit."

"My heads a mess but what are you going to do to him?" she asked, her eyes set on djinn.

"I'm still not sure," said the Jackal, his hands tightening on the book.

"Despite what you might think he did not harm me. In a way, you could say he saved me." said Feriah with uncertainty in her voice.

"But he may still be controlled by her, even if he doesn't want to be."

Suddenly, from across the room, the golden doors slammed open and a small army of gaurdsman poured into the room with swords and cross bows. Surrounding the trio, one of them emerged from the rest to face the Jackal. Unlike those around him, he wore the standard gaurdsmans garm, but where they were of various physcality, he was the most tall and imposing, greyish beard sprouted under his mask and strong arms at his side.

"Traitor," he barked at the Jackal, "we'll take your head for this."

The jacka's hands wrapped tightly around his sword.

"Fool, the building is surrounded, and no matter how skilled you think you are, there's no way for you to get through us."

"Is that a fact," said the Jackal coldly with glaring eyes.

"Come quitly and we'll make it quick," said the leader fon the gaurds, looking back with equal intensity.

"As for you old man, our queen told us to be keep you secure and safe so long as you don't start making problems. but this seems to be quiet the problem. Plenty of my men are already itching to pay you back for the long llist of pointless orders you've had them make, expensive spices, salted meats, scrolls and books. We serve the queen, not you. Unfortunately for you and fortunately for us, she ordered us to remove you. It seems you've outlived your usefulness"

"I see you've fitted well amongst her followeres," the Jackal mocked the short man.

"Followers, bah," said Nasnas "more like fanatics. I've always hated the zealous ones."

"Kill them," ordered the gaurdsman, signaling his men.

The surrounding gaurdsmen came slwoly towards them, their weapons poised and ready to strike.

"Listen, Jackal" said Nasnas, "you know the encantation to release me. Say the words and i will aid you in slaying that witch."

"I thought you said you were'nt at your full power," the Jackal growled, pulling Feriah behind him.

"I'm not, but i have enough power to seee us out of this mess."

Lunging, two of the gaurdsmen charged the Jackal with thrusting spears. Slciing the arm of one with his sword and shooting hte other with his crossbow, they toppled lifelessly on to the floor. Though uncertain if the Djinn would keep his word, the Jackal quickly utterred the enchantation and the smooke that binded the Djinn's arms suddenly disappeared in a cloud of black smoke.

Picking up the spear from one of the dead gaurdsman, Feriah pointed it towards leader of the gaurdsmen, who smiled and gestured for two soilders to attack. But before they could take another step, a black cloud enveloped the room around Nasnas, Feriah and the Jackal, sending it into a pitch black state.

"This way," yelled the Djinn, grabbing the pair by their arms through he veiled shroud.

"Stop them!" yelled the leader of the gaurds.

- Escape from Verena 5 (2/6)



CHAPTER 2

Robert felt his kneess graze against a cold floor. His eyes awoke in slow monotonous blinks. Every openning revealed a new corner of a rusty rivetted tunnel. The place was wrapped in steel with the occasional see though glass to seperate them from black waters which chocked the planet.

Then after some time, his mind returned to full conciousness. A heavily circluar door loomed over him. Its center replaced with a small square of see through glass at standing height. He shot up in a cold sweat and rose to the door. It was sealed shut. He pounded the glass, his bruised hands beating its surface like a drum.

"Let me out!" he yelled.

A cloud of steam from some loose pipe condensed the window but through it he could see two silent figures. Slowly, the steam disappated. Those behind the glass looked at him. Their faces concealed in strange, old and alien-looking dive suits. Robert recognised them as the two that knocked him out. They turned to eachother with an almost agreed acceptance and then faced Robert again. The captain pounded the glass harder but the pair just watcvhed. Odd green markings stained the rusted surface of their helmets, their lines glowing under the dim light.

"Let me the fuck out!" Robert yelled.

They remained silent, staring without so much as a flinch at the man's demands.

Robert, despite his years of solitude beneath these waters, felt uneased by what he could only assume was a cold gaze behind their masks. They moved towards the glass and the captain slowly stepped away from the door. He turned to the hallway behind him. A tunnel, a dimly lit passage of steel grating and rivetted ceiling, faced him. An identical sealed door stood at its opposite end.

So you want me in there, he thought. Cautiously he stepped towards the door, still feeling the cold gaze of the watchers on his back. A burst of steam erupted from a ceiling pipe. Startled, he looked over his shoulder. Those behind the glass said nothing but he sense an sick and eager anticipation from their direction.

The sound of his steps squeaked and echoed in the hall, compounding uneasily with droplets of water and the occasional burst of a steam pipe.

Robert felt his heart drum in his chest. His mind, trying to understand why he had been so violentlpy brought here, swirled with unpleasant thoughts. Pirates looking to ransom or corporate espionage being the most frequent.

Now he faced the two meter high door. He looked above it where a cracked pressure gauge hanged beside the fainlty painted words decompression. A dim red light spun to the right of it in the corner.

Suddenly, the light, changing to bright green, stopped and the door creaked open. Robert prepared himself for whatever lurked behind it.

The squeeking doors stretched fruther and further apart until a pitch black room stood silently before the captain.

Confused, Robert turned back to the suits who wathced through the other door. Robotically, one of them gestured for him to go inside. Angry, Robert threw the neiest piece of loose metal at the door and cursed at them. He waited for them to respond but they gave no answer.

Then one of them stepped back, reaching out for something on the wall. Robert suspected a voice to boom on an intercom, some concerted effort to appeal to him to go inside.

But as the suits hand fell, Robert painfully dropped to his knees.

A surge of sharp electricty stabbed at his legs and body.

He spat and throffed from the pain, rolling on the electrified grating. The smell of burning flesh filled the hall. It became almost too unbearable to bare for him.

The pair behind the glass watched in silence. Their helmets eagerly pressed against the glass, waiting.

The captain squirmed and shifted in pain towarsd on the black room.

Confident that what lurked in there was no doubt worse, he knew that it was still his only relief from the pain and possibly death. He threw his body through the door with as much strength as he could muster, landing head first into the dark.

Immediatly, the pain subsided into a faint sting. The captain rose to his spasming legs. He barely glanced the suits before the door to the tunnel descended shut.

Suddenly, he felt another flavour of pain. A loud yell escaped his mouth. He fell to the ground. The door, now entirely sealed, rested on widenning pool of blood around the captains now destroyed toes.

Delerious, he swore he heard hushed voices while he fell into unconciousness from shock.