Strange Land, Stranger Folk (Lysis)

Zalin trudged through the city streets grimly. Despite the warm air and bright sun, he had his cloak wrapped around him tightly. This city bothered him, with its strange mix of old and new; it had huge buildings made of glass that stretched to the sky, which were complemented by grimy open-air markets. They were run by strange round-faced people with narrow eyes and dark skin, but stranger yet were the symbols on their shops. Very complex yet numerous, Zalin could only conclude that they were overly complicated letters. The strangest things of all were these large, metal, automated carriages that took people to and fro, a never-ending race featuring big metal beetles.

On pondering the symbols, Zalin pulled out a sheet of paper from his tunic. There were a series of symbols similar to the ones on the street written on it, with the word “shaman” next to them. A very lucky and very helpful traveler had given it to him. He was lucky in that he spoke Zalin’s language, therefore dispelling Zalin’s urge to kill him, and helpful in that he knew just what Zalin was looking for. It only took one threat to get the information from the traveler about a shopkeeper dealing in mystical artifacts. Zalin must have gotten his edge back.

Looking about at the large brightly-colored signs, Zalin spotted one that resembled the text (if you could call it that) on his paper above a dingy-looking tent. People eyed him curiously as he edged his way through the crowded street. Apparently, not many people wore thick dark cloaks in the middle of summer, much less while carrying black swords strapped to their backs. Zalin shouldered his way past a wary customer and entered the tent. Lit by an oil lamp, it smelled heavily of incense. Amulets of varying materials hung from racks near the ceiling of the tent. Statues of all shapes and sizes lined tables on the sides of the tent. Zalin could tell most of the trinkets were fakes, but strong auras radiated from a few of them.

A soft voice from behind made him jump. He spun about. A man about his height with a grimy face and very small, beady eyes was asking him questions in the local language. Zalin looked about, frustrated. “Sorry?” he half asked, half said to the man.

He nodded and smiled. “Very sorry, sir,” he said through his bizarre accent. “I asked, ‘May I help you?’”

“Yes, I’m looking for an amulet,” Zalin rasped. “This is a very particular artifact, and I was told you could help me.”

“Well, if you’re looking for amulets of any sort, you’ve come to the right place,” the man said, gesturing about. Zalin was beginning to trust him less and less. “What type of amulet is it?” Zalin looked him dead in the eyes. A change seemed to come over him. He turned to the customers, bowed, and said something in his language. They all bowed in response and stepped out of the tent. The shopkeeper went and sat on a cushion in the back of the tent. “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked.

Zalin removed his hood. “It’s true. I’m a long way from home.” He sat down against the post holding up the center of the tent. “The amulet I’m looking for is known as the Amulet of Corruption. It was stolen from me some time ago. It gives its wielder power over darkness, and it once sustained my lifeforce.” He looked at himself. “This dark aura is a gift of the amulet, and it is now all that keeps me alive. I know you won’t have it in here, but would you know anything about it? Anything at all?” His last sentence sounded hysterical, even in his own ears.

The shopkeeper pondered this, the tips of his fingers pressed together over his lips. “I know naught of the amulet of which you speak,” he said slowly, “but I know of someone who may be using it now. There is a girl I have seen in this neighborhood who seems to control the shadows themselves. She tries to hide her powers, but I have seen her use them before. She is pale-skinned and has long black hair with a blue streak. Among our people, you cannot miss her.” He stood up. “Look about and you will find her.”

Zalin stood as well. “Thank you. As thanks for your service, I’ll let you keep your life,” he rasped. With that, he threw up his hood, turned, and left the tent.

“Oh, it is not I that should worry. It is you,” the storeowner said behind him. Zalin turned around to respond, but when he looked around, the tent was gone. People carried on as if they didn’t notice a change.

This was a very strange place indeed.

Atropos Belladonna tightly held a pair of scissors in her right hand as she ran down the street, obviously ignoring the basic rule "never run with scissors." She kept glancing behind her, as if she was running from someone, or something; even though it didn't seem that anything was bothering to chase her. She pushed her way by pedestrians, shoving through the crowded street, nicking a few people with her scissors as she bumped into them (which would have been seemingly more painful than it should be with a normal pair of scissors.)

Concerned more with what was behind her, she wasn't paying any attention to what was in front of her, and as she was dashing across the street the consequences of this took their toll. A small black car ran right into Atropos, sending her flying onto the concrete. The driver got out of the car, angry but worried. Nightshade was, however, unharmed and promptly got up to her feet. She looked at the vehicle with contempt, shattering the windshield with but a glance and a shriek.

Summoning darkness to her, she reached out with black tentacles and grabbed the front of the car. Seeing her, many people started screaming and running away. She pulled the car and sent it rolling into the intersection, causing several other cars to crash into it. In a fit of insanity, she pulled toward her the nearest person (who happened to be the driver who hit her) with an invisible jerk, and slashed his throat open with her shears, dropping him in the street.

What with the black tentacles she'd summoned (which were currently melting into a thick black liquid on the ground) the car crash that she'd caused, and the violent slashing of the man, considerable chaos was erupting; which only helped to fuel Atropos' madness. With an unseeable explosion of telekinesis, all the windows of the nearby buildings shattered and fell to the ground, several of the larger shards of glass seemingly guided by an invisible and malicious force into the bodies of several panicking civilians.

She was making herself very obvious, and it was only a matter of time before the police showed up...and maybe someone else too...

As Zalin turned to head farther down the street, he heard screaming. A piercing shriek was followed by a large metallic crunch, a loud "whumph," and the shattering of glass. People screamed as they frantically ran from the area. The crowded street became even more so as people ran from their market stalls into the road itself in a desperate attempt to escape the madness.

Hoping against hope that the commotion was caused by the girl he needed to find, Zalin fruitlessly tried to push against the wave of oncoming pedestrians. Tossing subtlety aside, Zalin removed the hood of his cloak and unsheathed his sword. This drew even more screams from the frightened crowd. Zalin pushed forward, slashing at the pedestrians. As the bodies fell around him, he made his way back, but slowly. This would take too long; by the time he got there, his prey might already be gone. Reaching into the depths of his soul, he united himself with his sword. Black flames licked the blade's edge, and a jet of black fire erupted from the tip and burned a path down the street. Those unlucky enough to be caught in the attack were incinerated quickly by the unholy fire. Zalin ran down the no longer crammed street, pleased by the terrified faces of the people cowering at his sides.

The undead warrior skidded to a halt at the end of the road. The road it intersected with was much wider, but no less crowded. There was a pile of those strange metal carriages down to his right with a puddle of black liquid in front of it. The driver of the foremost carriage lay on the ground with a vaguely horrified expression, a pool of blood spreading from his slit throat. Other bodies littered the street, mangled by huge shards of glass from the tall buildings. In the middle of it all stood a sullen looking girl, pale skinned with black and blue hair. She held a pair of scissors by her side with blood dripping from the blades.

He eyed the girl with amusement. This was a job Zalin would be proud of; however, this was no time to exchange pleasentries. Now was the time for business. "Little girl, I believe you have something of mine," he called to her. She spun about. The girl seemed to study him for a moment, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. Zalin felt a stirring at his feet. He looked down; a black pool was forming underneath him. He rolled to the side just as a large black tentacle sprouted from the pool. How odd. Perhaps Zalin never really did unlock the true power of the Amulet of Corruption; or perhaps the amulet gave different powers to different people? Either way, he needed it back. His mind set, he stood up and cut loose with a volley of fireballs. She would learn not to play with something that didn't belong to her.

Well now, what was this? Atropos stared at the strange person, noticing his tattered skin hanging loosely and revealing his skeleton. As she dodged the fireballs he threw, she called out to the creature. "What are you, a zombie?" she asked. He didn't seem to be too kind though, intent on killing her. He would regret that, for sure. Atropos laughed as she leaped high up into the air, over the zombie creature. She threw several shards of black matter at him, which he quickly sidestepped.

She landed on the ground nearby, and he lashed out with his sword. She dodged it as best she could, but the blade slashed across her left arm. She winced slightly at the pain, but her dark purple blood quickly closed the wound as if it had never been there. She pushed out her hand towards the darkly garbed zombie, throwing him back with a burst of psychokinesis and into a crowd of panicking people. He incinerated several of them with a burst of flame, getting them out of his way.

As the creature approached her, she started to throw anything she could find at it. The zombie slashed at the flying objects with his sword, knocking them out of the way; shards of glass and metal, a couple car tires, a manhole cover, a construction cone, even an elderly lady. However, the next object, a red fire hydrant, knocked into him rather hard, throwing him down to the ground.

"What exactly do you want, anyway?" Atropos asked the creature.

"You know exactly what I want!" the undead warrior rasped at her, rising to his feet.