Written by: Epicstu Wyyvernwriter

In Aroamourne, an Elven village hidden between a massive mountain and a foggy unpassable marsh, a skinny man with blonde hair and hazel eyes entered The Voodoo Ward Inn. He sat down and ordered a drink. The Elven lady behind the counter cocked an eyebrow, humans were rarely seen in Aroamourne, “Here you go, child of the living. On the house.” She placed a glass filled to the brim with hard liquor in front of him. The man looked up from the glass of liquid peace he was staring into and scowled at her. “Fine, pay for it if you want to,” she turned around and started washing glasses. No one else was at the inn, despite it being open at all hours. It was just her and this strange man. “What keep’s you here so late? Child of the living.”

The man drank the entire glass of liquor and slammed it, empty, upside down on the table. “I am not of the living,” he said as he gestured for another.

“Do not tell me you, a human, worships 999,” the elven bartender asked with curiosity as she handed the man a glass of clear liquid.

“No, I do not pray for some dead cat to solve my problems,” the man said as he stopped to examine the glass of clear liquid. “Nor do I abide by the so called living God.” He took a drink of the strange liquid and immediately spat it back out, “What is this?”

The bartender looked at him with a raised eyebrow and said, “That is water, you look like you need it.” The bartender looked over her Inn and noticed someone sitting at a booth in the back. Whoever it was, they were hidden in the shadows between two illuminations of candlelight. She continued tending to her tedious nightly duties as a bartender and turned her attention back to the human, “tell me your story, child not of the living.” She kept an eye on the strange figure in the back. She recognized the figure but knew not from where.

The man scoffed, slammed the rest of his water, and stood up, “you already know my story.” Then the doors opened and a human wearing the armored robes of a Warpriest walked in. He was dripping wet with some heavy liquid and it was too dark to see him.

The Warpriest walked up to the counter and leaned his massive sword against the bar next to himself. His sword had a golden blade and a black hilt. It had the sigil of the living God on it, which was nothing more than the silhouette of a coiled up lizard. The elven women behind the counter froze, it was blood what dripped from his garbs, weapons, and relics. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

The skinny blonde haired man’s hazel eyes widened, then he focused on the Warpriest, “beauty is in the eye’s of the beholder,” he clenched his fists.

“What have you done, Warpriest?” the elven women tending the bar asked.

The Warpriest said nothing. Instead, he grabbed his sword and swung the massive, sharpened hunk of metal across the counter in one swift motion that ended on the floor with the blade aimed at the skinny man. “Now that is beauty,” the Warpriest said. Then he looked at the man and smiled, “a dead elf. Of course, you love all dead. Don’t you, Michael?”

“Taking life without Death’s permission is never beautiful, Pip.” A light blue power pulsed and whirled around Michael slowly at first then gradually gaining momentum and speed.

“Oops, you have an entire village to work with this time,”  Pip said as he readied his weapon and religious relics. “Quite the zombie horde.”

Michael could sense all the recently dead, he could feel their souls scream in the agony of deaths undeserved. He felt their pain because he knew it. Then he felt all that death move to the strange figure sitting in the back, “That is quite enough,” the Figure said as he stood up at the same time as the elven bartender stood back up.

The bartender felt for her vitals, she was fine, she was alive. “999…” she stuttered as she beheld, floating just above the ground between the Warpriest and, “You’re Michael of the Dead!” she screeched, having noticed the Necromancer’s signature light blue aura. She returned her attention to the dead cat floating between the Necromancer and the Warpriest.

“I have a number of names, but here I am known as 999,” the dead cat began talking directly to the Warpriest, “Go ahead outside and you will find that all you have done has been undone. Everyone is alive and well, you have no power here so leave now. Return and you will not find me waiting for you.” Suddenly Pip found himself just outside the foggy marsh that hid the village of Aroamourne. “You will find Deceit instead,” the voice of 999 echoed in his mind.

“Then tell Deceit to prepare itself,” Pip said as he sheathed his weapons and religious relics and walked off, “I will return expecting a good fight.”

*          *

Edward awoke in a dark place where the only light was his fire, “finished site seeing?”

“There’s nothing to see,” Edward replied. Then he turned around and found the Nekolich, “I take it this is where I spend my time until my body is done with Rainbow?”

“No,” Stu replied. “The Heroes of Rainbow have defeated Hell itself and are now living out their lives as individuals,” he began. “Brett and Hensil got married and have three kids. They bring the nations of Red and Green together once a year, I think on the twenty-fifth day of the final month of Rainbow’s calendar year. Jain and Henry brought the nations of Blue and Yellow together in an effort to prepare all of Rainbow for the possibility of another Attack. The defense grid they design together will be the strongest in this multiverse. Q turned himself in for all he had done in his lifetime, but no one wanted to carry out his death sentence now that he’s a Hero. He’s become irritated that the people of Rainbow had forgotten who he was and returned to his life of crime. Terial has dedicated her life to hunting Q down. The two of them will share many epic battles before the end.” Stu looked off into the distance, “I have a new job for you, this time you will be doing Your job.”

“What is My Job, pray tell” Edward replied.

Stu smiled, “to put it simply, you are a bounty hunter. Actually, you are The Bounty Hunter, for you are Hell,” Stu’s tone became more serious. “I am sending you after one who belongs to you, he has done his part and now disrupts the balance. Your next jump will take you to a small Elven village called Aroamourne, you will know the one you hunt when you sense him.”

“Elven? What’s an Elven? Edward questioned.

“You will find out,” Stu said as he began to move away. “Do not worry about Zesrial, she is meeting you there.”

“Without her, how can I jump?” Edward asked.

“You’re a Wyyvern Weapon too, figure it out,” with that, Stu left the Realm.

Edward focused on the destination now locked in his mind. He did not know where he was going and he did not know who or what he was hunting. What he did know was Zesrial would be there. A portal of his fire opened and he stepped through into the unknown.