Isis writes something other than Spiralstory? What? Blasphemy!

Kradus
I stared at my leg, or the absence of it, as if there was a chance that if I glared long enough, the stump might grow back into the muscled appendage it once was. But my efforts were in vain, and the cold of the season soon chilled my veins. The embers of what used to be a roaring fire provided little comfort. Briefly poking at it until surrending this hopeless endeavor, I got up, grabbed my cane, and began towards the door. Passing a mirror, I doubled back, staring sorrowfully at my reflection.

My skin was loose and wrinkled, and deep bags settled under my eyes, which were half closed and glossed over, my gaze careless and zombie-like. The crimson glow within them was dull, it color masked and shrouded. White and grey hair stood upon my head like a matted mane, with a patchy beard to match. It was disheartening to see my self like this, for I was young. It was but handful of cycles ago when a handsome, proud and youthful face would be staring back with piercing, vibrant red eyes.

I continued to the outer hall of my tiny flat, grabbing a coat at the door and pulling it on before stepping out into the air. It was just after Winterfest, and workers were busy taking down decorations. A thin layer of snow coated the tile ground of Haven, sucking the heat out of my boots. I breathed in the crisp winter air, and hobbled over to one of the workers. I watched him take down strands of lights, whistling a merry tune. He had finished wrapping two up before he noticed me. His face started in confusion, and then he became a little slower, his happy song replaced with a nervous hum.

Now, I'd hate to admit it, but I enjoyed this man's discomfort. I felt as though I was releasing some of my pain and sadness upon him. As bad as I felt doing it, I couldn't help myself. Perhaps I was just a teensy bit evil. Come to think of it, I'd have been great as some sort of an agent of evil, a bandit...or maybe a gremlin. Thinking of such outlandish possiblities helped cheer me up a bit, and I decided to stop harassing the poor worker, who had simply become silent by now. I continued on, my cane claking against the stone beneith the snow.

It wasn't too long before I had arrived at North Inn, and had shuffled into it's bar. It took about a second for someone to notice me, and two for everyone in the surrounding area to hush, an eerie silence settling over the three closest tables. It wasn't as though I was some celebrity, but the Inn was within a block of my home, and I was a deformed regular to the place. I glared at the tables with the same intensity that was otherwise reserved for my leg, and all the knights there suddenly became very busy with their food and drinks. I settled into a tiny table nearby, and took off the coat. Silence once more reigned, and I assumed that they were oogling at my side. It was strange, everyone was always more sympathetic of the wounds found there.

I waved over possibly the only man who truly knew me. I won't lie, he was weak...a coward, but generally a decent man. Perhaps when one is weakened phsycally, they like to be surrounded by weakminded men. However, as much as I'd like to think that last statement to be true, it was far more likely that I liked Argile because he looked past the visible wounds, and attempted to tend to my quiet mental ones.

"Ari, could'ja get something strong for me?" I wheezed. He began to object, but I claimed that my side was hurting again, and that a drink would soothe it. My true intentions however, were far more selfish. I yearned to dowse my heartache with a long night of drunken hilarity. Ari returned with news that deepened my frown.

"It seems that they're outta Blaze Pepper, and Battug says that he ain't making any of the special without it...claims it'd be an insult to his family or somethin'." Ari glanced back to where the bartender stood, cleaning glasses but still managing to look menacing. His giant hands could easily crush the mugs his scrubbed, or the skull of a disruptive customer.

"Just tell him to make something." I mumbled scornfully.

He looked up at me, and I saw fear past his anger. "You do it. A wine bottle to the head wouldn't make you any uglier." Realizing that the words had hit home a little too hard, he turned away. I scowled at the back of his head. Coming to the conclusion that he was ignoring me, I heaved my chair back and began to stand, a lengthly process that often required somebody's assistance. He was by my side in seconds, cursing me whilst supporting my bad side until I got to a point where my cane was of any use. "And just where do you think your going?" He said as though he was Barlamel catching one one of his students sneaking out of class.

"I dunno...maybe home..." He eyed me, confused.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"I've never been better." Argile chuckled under his breathe, and I continued before he tried to look into my departure any farther. "Listen, I'll see you later." I hobbled out of the tiny building and once again hit the streets.

The snow must of frozen over in the gloom of the later hours, and I had some troubles navigating the thick ice. A troop of young soldiers stumbled out of the bar several paces behind me, and their rawdy song echoed through the otherwise silent night.

I began to turn and chastise them for being so...happy, when my mind traveled back to the days where Erake and I, stupid grins sitting upon our faces, would stumble out of taverns, singing some songs about Gremlin women and other ungentlemanly things.

I suddenly was jealous of them...why did I, of all people, have to abandon that life? I spun to do something that I'd later regret, but they had turned off and were heading down a side street. I frowned, then turned and limped onward.

Once inside my home, I hooked my coat upon a hat stand, cleaned my face halfheartedly, and slid into bed. I was nearly asleep when I realised that I had forgot part of the cycle...one of the daily rituals. Yelping in surprise, I flicked on the lights, fell out of bed, and crawled across the room to the dresser. Lucky, it was low enough to haul myself up and snatch the only item resting upon it. Flicking up the on switch, I tossed it back up on the bureau and made my way back to bed.

.
I opened my eyes to a world opposite of my own. Flames licked at my heels, and the heat of the room turned it into one huge, shimmering mirage. Ah, this was the arena...as I realized where I was, fear choked me, and I coughed as though that would clear my throat. A familiar, yet distant bark echoed through my brain. I whipped around, pulling with me my handgun, a great unwieldly thing. Sizing up what approached me, I steadied my hand cannon and took the shot.

It struck true, and the Wolver fell forward, discontinuing its existence. Two more crawled forward, and I repeated my actions, yet I had little time to prepare my shot. I reloaded, and wheeled around just a little to late to see a giant creature, its sinews writhing beneath it's thick hide. I drew my sword, but the beast was on me before I could pull it from its scabard. The thing grabbed my leg with its razor sharp teeth, but I managed to align my handgun with its head, and I dispatched it with a great amount of effort.

I fell, and realized that the creature had taken most of my leg with it to the afterlife. Clutching the open end of the wound, I fought back the darkness that surrounded my vision. Fumbling with a side pouch, I cursed. I had taken too many risks...I should have brought Erake with me, or a couple Health Caps. No...this wasn't my fault...Erake was busy...and look at what he had caused...and Kotric, it was he who proclaimed that I was near addicted to Capsules. This couldn't possibly be my fault...no, it wasn't...it-
'
I popped out the buckle of the holster that I kept my Handheld Radio in, and repeatedly jammed the call button, before the darkness slowly veiled my eyes, and I went to sleep.

I would wake up a different man.

I nearly jumped within the confines of my sheets, and my body spasmed in pain, fully waking me up. Glancing around the dark outlines of the furniture within my room, I wondered what had revived me. A voice bounced across the room, and though its origin was not made apparent, I immediately rolled out of bed. As I fell, I grabbed my cane, though it was thrown across the room as I realized its uselessness. The pain throughout my body became quite life-sapping, and I was forced to drag myself to the dresser, sweat stinging my eyes as the voice droned on.

Yanking myself up so that my eyes caught a glimse of the walkie-talkie, I lost my grip and collapsed to the floor. However, upon hearing the tone of voice being emitted, I frowned, heaved myself up, and grabbed the radio. Falling with it in my hand, I shivered on the floor, twisting up the volume knob. Words quickly became loud enough to be clear.

It was a distress call...from Erake.

The words were garbled, but the idea was clear...fear, spirit crushing fear. From the message I picked up a few phrases: "No one left" was particlularly disheartening, while "Golden Rook" would be quite helpful in the occasion that I went after him. And, well...that was the problem. Judging by the frequency, nobody but me, with a directly connected radio, would have received Erake's message. If I wanted to, I could leave him, and nobody would be the wiser. What if he was already dead? And judging by the "No one left, was it a good idea to go after him?

But no, this was different...this was Erake. I couldn't simply leave Erake...like he left me. Like he left...no. I had to go after Erake...It's what he'd had done if he knew what was happening when...I shook my head. I was going after Erake. It was only a matter of how.

I opened a cabinet. Instead were the two things that I would need for my adventu-bah, hardship. My broken safe held my meager savings...a couple chunks of crystal energy and a sack full of, judging by its weight, about a thousand crowns. In the upper section, my armor was hung. It was standard issue Spiralian gear, with a fur coat stuffed inside. There were two Cooling Cells strapped into the armpit areas which...I won't bore you, but it was the pinnicle of my crafting accomlishments. I heaved it on, and turned the cells off...it was cold enough in my home.

I then limp-tromped across the room, still fitting pieces of armor in place, and grabbed my Iron Slug and Calibur. I had both for distinct reasons. The Iron Slug because I loved it, and the Calibur because the Order literally shoved it in my face as though they had some excess of the damned things. Looking out the window, I saw that it was early...the Nightwatch was probably just about to stop doing absolutely nothing useful. I gently opened the door and staggered out into the street. Only then did I truly realize what I was doing. I turned to head back inside, but stopped myself mid-turn.

I was going after Erake.