Episode 5: A Professional Assassin Uses Terms


The Following episode will be featuring Sergals. Sergals are a creation of Mick39 as part of her sci-fi world Vilous; this story is a fiction all its own and the lore is unrelated to Mick39’s creation. Posted with permission.

Written by: Epicstu Wyvernwriter

“Hurry, tis nearly dawn and we must get to the checkpoint before daylight,” said Aleister to Zakir.

“Checkpoint?” Zakir raised an eyebrow.

“I am a professional assassin. I use terms,” he replied casually.

A tribe of Bears approached with their massive armor and weapons of stone. “Well well, what do we have here,” their leader roared charismatically with his mighty voice. “A Northlandish Fennec and a Sergal of the South together?” He laughed heartily and his brethren joined in. “Grab them both!” he bellowed to his men as they and he were suddenly thrown far off into the distance by a massive gust of wind.

Aleister and Zakir continued walking. After a while  “You know, you didn’t have to do that,” said Aleister. “I’ve handled worse situations.”

“I know,” Zakir replied. “That is why I did it.” He glared at Aleister, “I will not witness any more death.”

“You have my word, you shall never again witness the death of another,” Aleister replied. “We are here,” he said as they came to the front entrance of the Sergal camp.

Zakir looked up. “That is the front door,” he pointed.

“I thought I might honor my brother Edward and approach this head on.” Aleister gave Zakir a pat on the back, ever so slightly, assisting him forward. At the same time, he loosened his axe from its holster with his tail. Zakir did not notice this. “You first,” said Aleister.

Zakir walked forward through the entrance of a large canyon. The canyon was like a large bowl with only one way in or out and it flourished with life. Aleister’s axe slowly began to fall.

The Four looked at one another. “That is Zakir,” said Roil.

“Who’s that with him?” Asked Criinos.

“It looks like a Northlandish Fennec,” Dolan replied.

The Nameless One’s eyes grew wide. She knew who this was, “the assassin.” Aleister’s axe dropped onto his tail and he flicked it up to just above his shoulders. By the time he caught it, the axe had already gained more than enough momentum. Zakir never even felt it slice through his neck as he dropped to his knees then fell. “Aleister!” The Nameless One yelled in anger.

Aleister looked up and saw them at the opposite end of the canyon at the top of the cliff there with his mark. “Checkpoint complete,” he breathed deeply. “Bonus mark acknowledged. You will not escape this time.” He took a knee and held his weapon vertically, axe end up, on the ground before him. The Sergals grew into a frenzy, Aleister’s chance had come. Disks forged from elements of every nature, some so rare they were worth currency, flew at him. He opened his eyes and focused on his mark. Edward stared back at his brother and Aleister grinned. With perfect timing he pulled a trigger on his axe and the bottom sprung out, launching him skyward. He unsheathed the six-inch retractable claws on his feet and they caught the canyon wall. Disk after disk crashed behind him as he ran along the edge of the massive bowl. Still, he remained focused, his gaze on his mark.

“Edward, you need to leave,” said the Nameless One.

“No,” Edward replied. “Get the women and the children out.” He focused on his brother, “I will lead him away.”

“I’m sorry Edward,” said the Nameless One before she knocked Edward unconscious. “I will take him, the rest of you gather the women and children and get them to safety.

Aleister was the most feared assassin in the Lands for a reason. He knew well the study and practice of it, but what made him the best was his Westland Fennec blood. Aleister’s height was all he got from his Northlandish Fennec mother. His speed, his accuracy, his heightened senses, all were granted him by his Westland Fennec father. He was more than fast enough on the draw, with any one-handed melee weapon, to deflect a projectile back to the weapon that fired it. His mark was unconscious and being taken away by the bonus mark. “Two birds, one stone,” all he had to catch up to them, but he was only halfway across the canyon now. He spun his axe around as he leaped towards his mark’s last known location. He found one of the many triggers on his axe and pulled it, mid air. Wings spanned from it and Aleister glided over to the checkpoint. Suddenly a disk of water damaged the glider and Aleister fell to the ground, landing on his feet, unharmed. He looked up at his checkpoint and growled, as disks made of wind, water, and fire drove him back. Aleister found himself surrounded by angry Sergal freedom fighters. They were between him and his mark making them all marks. He found another trigger and pulled it, the barrel of a 44 magnum revolver rotated out accompanied by another trigger. When the battle was over Aleister, surrounded by dead bodies, pulled his axe from a Sergal’s skull. He watched with an enraged look in his eyes as the last of the survivors ran into a cave and collapsed the entrance behind themselves. He had lost his mark.

*          *

War crushed the skull of the dragon of Helllightning and Heavenfire under his boot. He stared off into the distance, angered by Edward’s betrayal. The Buitre Muerto entered the realm behind him. “War!” Victor shouted. “What news?”

Galvic turned to Victor and Fynrir. “Edward has sided with his brother,” he said.

“Follow him,” Victor ordered, and war left the realm. “Strife, come with me.” Victor returned to his ship, “I have an idea.”

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