"They're going to write stories about us." Tanner leaned against the cold, wet surface of the brick wall. The alleyway was dark, but he knew there was only one way out. It was past him, and his foe wasn't going anywhere. "Tanner and Dominic - Hero and Villain, to the death."
A few feet away, Dominic laughed. It was a low laugh, filled with amusement before it turned into weak coughing. Although Tanner couldn't see him, he knew that Dominic was a crumpled mess on the ground, blood slowly draining from his stomach. The thought made Tanner smile, and he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, despite the rain dripping down on him.
"Little Sarah would be proud." Dominic groaned as he spoke.
Tanner imagined that the man's lips were covered in blood from coughing, his internal organs slowly killing him as they failed. He cringed at the thought before shaking his head and turning in Dominic's direction. "A bit too late to taunt me, no?"
There was a low snort from the alleyway. "Bitch was too good for you anyway."
"That she was." Tanner held the cigarette out in front of him. With a crooked smile, he wandered over to Dominic. Reality was similar to what he had imagined; Dominic was leaning up against a dumpster, his hands and shirt covered in blood. The rainwater was struggling to wash it all away, causing a trail of blood to flow towards the nearest storm drain.
Dominic looked up, his struggling features still managing to look smug. "What would she say now?"
Tanner leaned down, placing the cigarette in the dying man's lips. "Oh, I don't know." His eyes wandered, finding nothing more interesting than his fallen companion. "Probably argue that a good man would never kill - that you twisted me."
Dominic rolled his lips, spitting the cigarette out. "That I won."
Tanner nodded, his eyes locking with Dominic's. Despite his pale features, Dominic looked as wild and fierce as ever. Tanner laughed, shrugging and patting the man on his head. "Maybe. But I have to thank you."
Dominic seemed confused, some of the ferocity giving way to curiosity. "Thank me? For what?"
"Giving me a reason to kill." Tanner pulled out a knife, the blade still dripping with blood from recent use. "Some men don't deserve a chance to live. I never would have reached this conclusion without you."
The curiosity on Dominic's face wilted away into fear - something Tanner had never expected to see on the man's face. "Wait - you wouldn't."
"Time to say goodbye, old friend." The dagger spun in Tanner's fingers. "It's okay. In the end, I forgive you." The dagger zipped forward, cutting Dominic's neck as he tried to speak out. Tanner smiled weakly, wiping the blade on his enemies coat. "Tell Sarah I'm sorry, if you see her."
-----------------------
Boom boom boom boom. Getting better. I think. I'm enjoying the recent ones more. Original thread here. Have a good oneeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
Monday, April 7, 2014
Sunday, April 6, 2014
017 - "Tell a story of an encounter with a superhero from two different perspectives."
Intense heat. That is what I remember. My body still spasms uncontrollably at the memory. I don't know how to explain it, really. Its like trying to explain the taste of chicken to someone who has never had meat before. It was hot.
I don't remember why I was even in the building. A delivery of some kind - doesn't matter, I was there. I remember the smoke first. It filled my head, making the world appear as if I were watching some sort of optical illusion. Things were out of place. I felt lost and alone in a foreign land.
Then came the heat. The little heat at first. It was warm. I remember pulling my tie off, loosening around my neck to let my skin breathe.Then it grew worse, like I was being smothered in a blanket. I could survive the oppressing sensation from the outside. I wasn't worried until it felt as if my organs were going to burst. All I wanted was fresh air - I just wanted my insides to cool off.
Then he was there. I don't know how he got there or where he came from. One second I remember thinking that the flames looked as if they had faces in them, the next, arms like tree trunks are grabbing me from behind. I thought maybe I had backed into a beam that had broken and fallen around me.
At first, I tried to fight against it. I used what strength I had left to struggle, as if these were the last moments of my life and I had no choice but to escape the burly arm around my waist. But he was too strong. No, strong doesn't properly describe it. He carried me through the air as if I were a crumpled paper towel to be tossed in the waste bin. I'm not sure he ever used his full strength, not even as he crashed through the walls, still alight with unnaturally bright flames.
I'm not even sure he was human.
--------------------------------------------
Arson. I'd only been on site for a few minutes, but I'd been certain even as we drove up. After fifteen years as a firefighter, I knew the signs even at a glance. These flames burned brighter than an accidental fire. They licked at the sky, desperately hungry for the oxygen that fueled it. In some places, it looked as if even the bricks had somehow began to burn. It wasn't an accident.
These are my least favorite kind of fires, even above forest fires. A flame burning through a forest is uncontrollable, deadly, and unbelievably destructive - but it is still predictable, in a way. Plans can be made, people can be warned, and, eventually, the fire will die out. They are exhausting, but in the end, the flames will be extinguished.
I'm never so certain with arson. They're unnatural, burning hotter than any typical fire. Most of the time, we're told to stay away from them. We don't know what kind of fuel could be hidden away, ready to ignite the flame's hunger. We try to set up a perimeter and hope - hope - that the flames will rush through it's dinner without inflicting too much harm.
This fire was one of those fires I wasn't sure of. People were inside. We were set to go in, but nobody was really prepared. Something was wrong with those flames. Water didn't help and we had no way of cutting off its oxygen. People were inside, but we were too afraid to rescue them.
But someone else wasn't. He must have been inside to begin with, before the flames started, because he came out before we ever saw him go in. There were three people in his massive arms, and he burst through the wall as if it were nothing. His skin was dark, as if covered in soot, and his face looked as if it may have been burned. But he just dropped the people on the ground, turned, and went straight back into the flames.
When the shock passed, that was enough for my fellow fireman to brave the heat. We went through the path that the massive man had just created, trying to follow after him. It was difficult to see through the smoke, but he seemed to kick aside flaming debris without a second thought, having no care for what it might do to his exposed skin. Some of my fellow workers tried to yell for him to leave, to find safety, but he ignored us. He just kept dredging on, and we followed.
I knew something was unnatural about him as sure as I knew that something was wrong with the fire. We made it to the second floor, and he picked up another three people and tucked them under his arm as if they were dolls. I offered to help, but he just shook his head and kept right on walking - right through the wall of the second floor.
I turned to my fellow firefighters, only to find myself alone. They had scattered, searching through the first floor to see if the stranger had missed anyone. Alone, I thought I was seeing things - that the smoke was getting to my mind. Then, a few seconds later, the brute was suddenly in the hole he had created, ripping himself upwards as if he were climbing a mountain. He moved past me, heading up to the third floor. I followed, and the process repeated. He rescued, jumped, climbed. All the way through the six floor building. He found what survivors he could, then jumped through the wall, regardless of height, and dropped them outside. When they were safe, he climbed right back in. I couldn't help but follow him, watching.
By the sixth floor, I knew I'd made a mistake. I hadn't been much help, but the heat and smoke were starting to get to me. I couldn't climb down six floors. I was too tired. I couldn't jump out, either. I was suddenly worried that I might die - but he came back for me.
I've never felt so tiny, so utterly useless, as when he picked me up and placed me on his shoulder. I felt like a boy again, dreaming of the cartoons I had hoped to be real. The man gave me a crooked smile. His face was scarred with fresh burn marks, but he seemed unaware of the burned flesh. He simply turned and jumped right off the roof. The weight of his landing cracked the Earth, sending shudders through my body. He set me down, patted me on the head as if I were a faithful dog, and walked off down an alleyway. I tried to call out, to get him medical attention, but my voice cracked in my throat. I stood, watching him go, unsure about everything I had just experienced.
----------------------------
An old one, saved about a month ago, and never finished. WELL IT IS FINISHED NOW. Could be better, but it isn't bad. Which is alright.
I don't remember why I was even in the building. A delivery of some kind - doesn't matter, I was there. I remember the smoke first. It filled my head, making the world appear as if I were watching some sort of optical illusion. Things were out of place. I felt lost and alone in a foreign land.
Then came the heat. The little heat at first. It was warm. I remember pulling my tie off, loosening around my neck to let my skin breathe.Then it grew worse, like I was being smothered in a blanket. I could survive the oppressing sensation from the outside. I wasn't worried until it felt as if my organs were going to burst. All I wanted was fresh air - I just wanted my insides to cool off.
Then he was there. I don't know how he got there or where he came from. One second I remember thinking that the flames looked as if they had faces in them, the next, arms like tree trunks are grabbing me from behind. I thought maybe I had backed into a beam that had broken and fallen around me.
At first, I tried to fight against it. I used what strength I had left to struggle, as if these were the last moments of my life and I had no choice but to escape the burly arm around my waist. But he was too strong. No, strong doesn't properly describe it. He carried me through the air as if I were a crumpled paper towel to be tossed in the waste bin. I'm not sure he ever used his full strength, not even as he crashed through the walls, still alight with unnaturally bright flames.
I'm not even sure he was human.
--------------------------------------------
Arson. I'd only been on site for a few minutes, but I'd been certain even as we drove up. After fifteen years as a firefighter, I knew the signs even at a glance. These flames burned brighter than an accidental fire. They licked at the sky, desperately hungry for the oxygen that fueled it. In some places, it looked as if even the bricks had somehow began to burn. It wasn't an accident.
These are my least favorite kind of fires, even above forest fires. A flame burning through a forest is uncontrollable, deadly, and unbelievably destructive - but it is still predictable, in a way. Plans can be made, people can be warned, and, eventually, the fire will die out. They are exhausting, but in the end, the flames will be extinguished.
I'm never so certain with arson. They're unnatural, burning hotter than any typical fire. Most of the time, we're told to stay away from them. We don't know what kind of fuel could be hidden away, ready to ignite the flame's hunger. We try to set up a perimeter and hope - hope - that the flames will rush through it's dinner without inflicting too much harm.
This fire was one of those fires I wasn't sure of. People were inside. We were set to go in, but nobody was really prepared. Something was wrong with those flames. Water didn't help and we had no way of cutting off its oxygen. People were inside, but we were too afraid to rescue them.
But someone else wasn't. He must have been inside to begin with, before the flames started, because he came out before we ever saw him go in. There were three people in his massive arms, and he burst through the wall as if it were nothing. His skin was dark, as if covered in soot, and his face looked as if it may have been burned. But he just dropped the people on the ground, turned, and went straight back into the flames.
When the shock passed, that was enough for my fellow fireman to brave the heat. We went through the path that the massive man had just created, trying to follow after him. It was difficult to see through the smoke, but he seemed to kick aside flaming debris without a second thought, having no care for what it might do to his exposed skin. Some of my fellow workers tried to yell for him to leave, to find safety, but he ignored us. He just kept dredging on, and we followed.
I knew something was unnatural about him as sure as I knew that something was wrong with the fire. We made it to the second floor, and he picked up another three people and tucked them under his arm as if they were dolls. I offered to help, but he just shook his head and kept right on walking - right through the wall of the second floor.
I turned to my fellow firefighters, only to find myself alone. They had scattered, searching through the first floor to see if the stranger had missed anyone. Alone, I thought I was seeing things - that the smoke was getting to my mind. Then, a few seconds later, the brute was suddenly in the hole he had created, ripping himself upwards as if he were climbing a mountain. He moved past me, heading up to the third floor. I followed, and the process repeated. He rescued, jumped, climbed. All the way through the six floor building. He found what survivors he could, then jumped through the wall, regardless of height, and dropped them outside. When they were safe, he climbed right back in. I couldn't help but follow him, watching.
By the sixth floor, I knew I'd made a mistake. I hadn't been much help, but the heat and smoke were starting to get to me. I couldn't climb down six floors. I was too tired. I couldn't jump out, either. I was suddenly worried that I might die - but he came back for me.
I've never felt so tiny, so utterly useless, as when he picked me up and placed me on his shoulder. I felt like a boy again, dreaming of the cartoons I had hoped to be real. The man gave me a crooked smile. His face was scarred with fresh burn marks, but he seemed unaware of the burned flesh. He simply turned and jumped right off the roof. The weight of his landing cracked the Earth, sending shudders through my body. He set me down, patted me on the head as if I were a faithful dog, and walked off down an alleyway. I tried to call out, to get him medical attention, but my voice cracked in my throat. I stood, watching him go, unsure about everything I had just experienced.
----------------------------
An old one, saved about a month ago, and never finished. WELL IT IS FINISHED NOW. Could be better, but it isn't bad. Which is alright.
019 - "Write as if you were the king, your brother the high wizard, and you are discussing an impending orc invasion, as close to reality as possible."
The table in the center of the dining hall was large enough to cram a hundred people around it. The surface of the table was overflowing with an array of different foods, as if a feast had been prepared to feed half the castle. Instead of an exuberant feast, however, there was only silence as two men sat across from each other, eating slowly.
The first man cleared his throat, the motion turning into a cough. He forced his shoulders back in an attempt to fix his posture, but both his eyes and body drooped with exhaustion. "Anything interesting happen today?" His voice carried across the empty room, bouncing off the walls and returning in a slow, unintelligible mumble. When there was no answer, he tried again, "Any news, today?"
While the first man was hardly picking at his food, his counterpart seemed to be eating so much that it was a wonder his stomach didn't burst. He paused, his mouth still half full, and shook his head slowly. The food slid down his throat as his eyes darted across the table. "What?"
The first man sat up in his large, throne like chair and pushed his food away. His hair was in a strangled mess, with a patchy beard attempting to cover his pale, blemished face. He tried to smile, but the act only resulted in a grimace. "Your king asked if you had anything to report."
"My king, or my brother?" The second man was younger than the first, but taller and far more refined looking. He eyed the king carefully before returning to his food.
"Does it matter?" The king cleared his throat again before shaking his head and letting out a rough cough. "You're the courts high wizard, and my brother. Either way, I need to know what is going on."
"Have you tried talking to the men you pay for information?" The wizard continued eating, his eyes not even leaving the plate in front of him. The food seemed to disappear so quickly that it was a wonder he had time for words.
"I have." The king grimaced. Most of the council made his skin crawl and he wanted nothing to do with them. They were too worried about the politics of a kingdom, rather than its safety. He let out a sigh. "Ren, we agreed to rule this kingdom together."
The wizard stopped, another forkful of food halfway to his mouth. He set it back down, took a long drink of water, and looked up at his king. "Your point?"
"Help me." The king's eyes began to feel a bit glassy, and his vision became a bit blurry. He blinked furiously against the water in his eyes before giving out a weak smile. "I didn't want this anymore than you did. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't think I can lead a kingdom."
"We could leave." Ren leaned forward against the table, his eyes boring down on his elder brother.
"Like dad did after mom died?" The king snorted, shaking his head. "And leave the kingdom to whom? The council?"
"Who cares?" The wizard clenched his jaw, his eyes wandering through the wide empty room to stare out one of the many windows along the wall. "It shouldn't be our problem. Let them figure it out."
"We're the rulers, their leaders - it is our job to protect them against attacks like this." The king felt his sinewy muscles clench up in frustration. If he had the strength to argue, he would have risen from his chair and shouted. Instead, he let out a sigh and rested his forehead against his hand. "We may not be very good at it, but we shouldn't leave."
The silence of the hall seemed to envelope the both of them, but eventually Ren gave a slow nod. "From what we have been able to scry, the orcs should be here within the month. Our neighboring kingdoms have not lasted long against the creatures."
"Options? Ideas?" The king perked up slightly, but he remained with his head in hand, eyes turned sideways at his younger brother.
"Well, leaving would be my first suggestion." Ren glanced down from the window before shaking his head. "Surrender isn't a real option. The orcs kill enough of their own men on a good day. Humans fair much worse."
"What about holding our ground?"
"Not wise. Like I said, many of the other kingdoms are...gone." The stoney gaze that the high wizard gave off was enough to send a shiver down any mans back. The King, however, just felt a twinge of sadness whenever he looked to his brother.
"Yes, well, we don't have much of a choice." The king clicked his tongue against his teeth, counting the beat as he did so. A few tunes tickled his brain, but he pushed them away to focus on the problem in front of him. "What options do we have as far as defensive strategies are concerned?"
"I don't know." Ren looked down at his food, then pushed it away. He reached for another drink of water, but when he found it empty, he let out an audible sigh and leaned back in his chair.
"You don't know, or you don't want to talk about it?"
"I don't know."
"Helpful." The king folded his hands together, his eyes wandering out the same window that his brother seemed fascinated with.
Time passed as they sat in silence, neither looking to the other. Eventually, the King gave a crooked smile and brought his gaze back to the table. "If this were a game - one of the ones we created during our childhood - what would you tell me?"
The wizard matched his brothers gaze before rolling his eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"Here." The King stood, using the full force of his body to push the large chair backwards. He moved to a nearby cabinet, pulling out a large blank parchment and a quill. He carried them to the opposite end of the enormous table. His boney fingers reached out, pushing aside meals worth of uneaten food and replacing them with the parchment. Immediately, he began to scribble across it, drawing a crude map of the realm.
"What are you doing?" Ren sat up a bit straighter, leaning in just enough to see the parchment. "Your handwriting is terrible."
"So is my ability to draw." The king frowned, scratching at his poor excuse for facial hair. "Do you want to do it?"
"No." Despite his words, he stood from his seat and pushed the King aside. Sighing heavily, the wizard reached out for the quill and looked down at the parchment. "What am I doing?"
"Drawing the realm."
"Is that what this mess is?" The wizard released another rush of disgruntled air and started to draw. It wasn't much better than his brother's work, but it at least appeared to be created by an intelligent creature.
When the map was done, they both took a step back and looked it over. "Okay." Said the king. He nodded to himself, then pointed to a few sections of the map. "Those places are gone. You might as well mark them, and their resources, as belonging to the orcs."
Ren nodded, scribbling down the information, consistently careful to avoid getting ink on his hand as he wrote. When he was done, he started to scribble down information of his own. "These are our allies. Rather, the kingdoms that we can depend on holding long enough that we will have a warning if we are flanked."
"Good." The king clicked his tongue against his teeth again and let his eyes wander around the empty room. "We should be careful anyway. Have your wizards create outposts in each direction. They can create firetraps to slowdown our enemy."
"They won't like that." Ren paused, the quill dancing back and forth in his fingers. "They would rather be here. They would be more useful here."
"They would be safer here." The King stood up straighter, his stance growing solid for the first time in weeks. "But they would be more useful guarding our borders. If the orcs breakthrough, the wizards are the only ones able to communicate with us from the outside - and the most effective at harassing our enemy from behind."
"Fine, fine, but I remain here."
"Of course."
"What of the cavalry?"
"What of them?" The King made his way to a window, his gaze drifting out over the scenery. It made him feel powerful to look down upon his kingdom. It was an odd sensation, but one he yearned for as his physical strength waned.
"They are of no use to us inside the keep." The quill was writing on it's own, now, as Ren returned to his seat. Leaning back in his seat, his gaze wandered to the expansive skyline visible over the king's shoulders.
"Fair enough." The elder brother turned, looking over the make-shift map in front of them. "Send them to the West. They can act as diplomats, until the fighting begins. Either they will return with aide, or they shall serve as our relief force, for the wizards. Between the two of them, we should have a high potential for flanking and dividing the enemy force."
"Good." Ren reached out, grabbing another selection of food, despite it growing cold with the passing conversation.
"Are you eating more already?" The King shook his head, a small chuckle rising from within.
Ren shrugged, his mouth stuffed full. "I'm hungry."
"You're always hungry."
"A downside to being a high wizard." He shrugged. "Are you going to finish your drink?"
The King waved dismissively, his attention on the map. His fingers traced the ink, most of it too dry to smudge under his touch. He took a deep breath and smiled sadly. "We should make tunnels, under the keep. Give our people a chance to escape, should the need arise."
"Ah, yes. The people."
"We are not running."
"If you say so." Ren sat down in the King's throne-like chair, his feet resting upon the table as he sipped on his borrowed drink. "This city was not intended to be defensible."
"So we change it."
"Easier said than done."
"You're a wizard." The King shook his head. "Stop...whatever it is you're doing. We're staying. We're defending this city."
"Yeah."
"We're not going to die."
"Yeah."
"Stop that." They locked eyes, neither of them wanting to back down from their position. Eventually, Ren simply shrugged. The king nodded. "Good. Now, about the archers..."
--------------------------
Started weeks ago. Not sure if I'm content, but I'm content enough.
The first man cleared his throat, the motion turning into a cough. He forced his shoulders back in an attempt to fix his posture, but both his eyes and body drooped with exhaustion. "Anything interesting happen today?" His voice carried across the empty room, bouncing off the walls and returning in a slow, unintelligible mumble. When there was no answer, he tried again, "Any news, today?"
While the first man was hardly picking at his food, his counterpart seemed to be eating so much that it was a wonder his stomach didn't burst. He paused, his mouth still half full, and shook his head slowly. The food slid down his throat as his eyes darted across the table. "What?"
The first man sat up in his large, throne like chair and pushed his food away. His hair was in a strangled mess, with a patchy beard attempting to cover his pale, blemished face. He tried to smile, but the act only resulted in a grimace. "Your king asked if you had anything to report."
"My king, or my brother?" The second man was younger than the first, but taller and far more refined looking. He eyed the king carefully before returning to his food.
"Does it matter?" The king cleared his throat again before shaking his head and letting out a rough cough. "You're the courts high wizard, and my brother. Either way, I need to know what is going on."
"Have you tried talking to the men you pay for information?" The wizard continued eating, his eyes not even leaving the plate in front of him. The food seemed to disappear so quickly that it was a wonder he had time for words.
"I have." The king grimaced. Most of the council made his skin crawl and he wanted nothing to do with them. They were too worried about the politics of a kingdom, rather than its safety. He let out a sigh. "Ren, we agreed to rule this kingdom together."
The wizard stopped, another forkful of food halfway to his mouth. He set it back down, took a long drink of water, and looked up at his king. "Your point?"
"Help me." The king's eyes began to feel a bit glassy, and his vision became a bit blurry. He blinked furiously against the water in his eyes before giving out a weak smile. "I didn't want this anymore than you did. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't think I can lead a kingdom."
"We could leave." Ren leaned forward against the table, his eyes boring down on his elder brother.
"Like dad did after mom died?" The king snorted, shaking his head. "And leave the kingdom to whom? The council?"
"Who cares?" The wizard clenched his jaw, his eyes wandering through the wide empty room to stare out one of the many windows along the wall. "It shouldn't be our problem. Let them figure it out."
"We're the rulers, their leaders - it is our job to protect them against attacks like this." The king felt his sinewy muscles clench up in frustration. If he had the strength to argue, he would have risen from his chair and shouted. Instead, he let out a sigh and rested his forehead against his hand. "We may not be very good at it, but we shouldn't leave."
The silence of the hall seemed to envelope the both of them, but eventually Ren gave a slow nod. "From what we have been able to scry, the orcs should be here within the month. Our neighboring kingdoms have not lasted long against the creatures."
"Options? Ideas?" The king perked up slightly, but he remained with his head in hand, eyes turned sideways at his younger brother.
"Well, leaving would be my first suggestion." Ren glanced down from the window before shaking his head. "Surrender isn't a real option. The orcs kill enough of their own men on a good day. Humans fair much worse."
"What about holding our ground?"
"Not wise. Like I said, many of the other kingdoms are...gone." The stoney gaze that the high wizard gave off was enough to send a shiver down any mans back. The King, however, just felt a twinge of sadness whenever he looked to his brother.
"Yes, well, we don't have much of a choice." The king clicked his tongue against his teeth, counting the beat as he did so. A few tunes tickled his brain, but he pushed them away to focus on the problem in front of him. "What options do we have as far as defensive strategies are concerned?"
"I don't know." Ren looked down at his food, then pushed it away. He reached for another drink of water, but when he found it empty, he let out an audible sigh and leaned back in his chair.
"You don't know, or you don't want to talk about it?"
"I don't know."
"Helpful." The king folded his hands together, his eyes wandering out the same window that his brother seemed fascinated with.
Time passed as they sat in silence, neither looking to the other. Eventually, the King gave a crooked smile and brought his gaze back to the table. "If this were a game - one of the ones we created during our childhood - what would you tell me?"
The wizard matched his brothers gaze before rolling his eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"Here." The King stood, using the full force of his body to push the large chair backwards. He moved to a nearby cabinet, pulling out a large blank parchment and a quill. He carried them to the opposite end of the enormous table. His boney fingers reached out, pushing aside meals worth of uneaten food and replacing them with the parchment. Immediately, he began to scribble across it, drawing a crude map of the realm.
"What are you doing?" Ren sat up a bit straighter, leaning in just enough to see the parchment. "Your handwriting is terrible."
"So is my ability to draw." The king frowned, scratching at his poor excuse for facial hair. "Do you want to do it?"
"No." Despite his words, he stood from his seat and pushed the King aside. Sighing heavily, the wizard reached out for the quill and looked down at the parchment. "What am I doing?"
"Drawing the realm."
"Is that what this mess is?" The wizard released another rush of disgruntled air and started to draw. It wasn't much better than his brother's work, but it at least appeared to be created by an intelligent creature.
When the map was done, they both took a step back and looked it over. "Okay." Said the king. He nodded to himself, then pointed to a few sections of the map. "Those places are gone. You might as well mark them, and their resources, as belonging to the orcs."
Ren nodded, scribbling down the information, consistently careful to avoid getting ink on his hand as he wrote. When he was done, he started to scribble down information of his own. "These are our allies. Rather, the kingdoms that we can depend on holding long enough that we will have a warning if we are flanked."
"Good." The king clicked his tongue against his teeth again and let his eyes wander around the empty room. "We should be careful anyway. Have your wizards create outposts in each direction. They can create firetraps to slowdown our enemy."
"They won't like that." Ren paused, the quill dancing back and forth in his fingers. "They would rather be here. They would be more useful here."
"They would be safer here." The King stood up straighter, his stance growing solid for the first time in weeks. "But they would be more useful guarding our borders. If the orcs breakthrough, the wizards are the only ones able to communicate with us from the outside - and the most effective at harassing our enemy from behind."
"Fine, fine, but I remain here."
"Of course."
"What of the cavalry?"
"What of them?" The King made his way to a window, his gaze drifting out over the scenery. It made him feel powerful to look down upon his kingdom. It was an odd sensation, but one he yearned for as his physical strength waned.
"They are of no use to us inside the keep." The quill was writing on it's own, now, as Ren returned to his seat. Leaning back in his seat, his gaze wandered to the expansive skyline visible over the king's shoulders.
"Fair enough." The elder brother turned, looking over the make-shift map in front of them. "Send them to the West. They can act as diplomats, until the fighting begins. Either they will return with aide, or they shall serve as our relief force, for the wizards. Between the two of them, we should have a high potential for flanking and dividing the enemy force."
"Good." Ren reached out, grabbing another selection of food, despite it growing cold with the passing conversation.
"Are you eating more already?" The King shook his head, a small chuckle rising from within.
Ren shrugged, his mouth stuffed full. "I'm hungry."
"You're always hungry."
"A downside to being a high wizard." He shrugged. "Are you going to finish your drink?"
The King waved dismissively, his attention on the map. His fingers traced the ink, most of it too dry to smudge under his touch. He took a deep breath and smiled sadly. "We should make tunnels, under the keep. Give our people a chance to escape, should the need arise."
"Ah, yes. The people."
"We are not running."
"If you say so." Ren sat down in the King's throne-like chair, his feet resting upon the table as he sipped on his borrowed drink. "This city was not intended to be defensible."
"So we change it."
"Easier said than done."
"You're a wizard." The King shook his head. "Stop...whatever it is you're doing. We're staying. We're defending this city."
"Yeah."
"We're not going to die."
"Yeah."
"Stop that." They locked eyes, neither of them wanting to back down from their position. Eventually, Ren simply shrugged. The king nodded. "Good. Now, about the archers..."
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Started weeks ago. Not sure if I'm content, but I'm content enough.
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