The character is called Alaskadie, a badass of the first order. In this scene he is threatened by a gang of thieves in a tavern.
Enjoy.
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The room was dark and smoky. Very few
people were there and the aura of the place was one of sleepiness and age. Snoring
with his head on the table was Old Ben, drunk as usual after his lunch time
session. At another table sat two men playing a dice game. Their faces were old
and leathery, lacking expression. Occasionally they took swigs from the large
metal tankards by their right hands.
There was little
sound in the room and the figure in the far corner liked it that way. Peace and
quiet. The chance to drink in solitude and reflect on the world. His blue eyes
saw the room in clarity, his mind wandering to memories of his past. His
training, his life, his childhood. Forever waiting for a signal he knew would
never come. Not in his lifetime, or five generations before him. He knew that
his life would be constant anticipation of a call to duty that wouldn’t come.
Alaskadie was
very, very bored.
He glanced to the
bar. The barman was looking at him quizzically. At the crystal gaze from the
blue eyes the barman’s face momentarily flickered with fear and he looked away.
The barman
Steren, had never seen the man before. A well built fellow of well over 6 feet.
His hair was cut to the scalp. He wore a loose shirt, the buttons open to the
navel due to the heat in the room. He could tell the man could handle himself.
He considered himself able to judge people within seconds and his brief
conversation with the stranger had made the hairs on his neck prickle. Muscles
rippled in his arms as he walked, his shoulders broad and all he’d asked for
was a bottle and to be left alone to enjoy it. Quiet yet there was something
frightening about the man.
Oh well, he
thought. At least the stranger meant no harm. Steren turned back to the bottles
behind him and reached for one to brush off the dust. There was a loud crash
and the door the tavern burst open.
“Hey, heeyyyy.
Back in town again. The boys are here!”
Steren winced and
composed himself before turning round. The Aaron brothers. They’d been gone for
weeks and he hoped they’d decided never to come back.
He smiled as he
turned round. “Morning lads, what can I get you? On the house of course.”
Unik Aaron was
facing him. His two brothers either side and four of their friends behind. Unik
was a scrawny man of about five and a half feet. His hair was shoulder length
and lank, the stubble on his face partially hiding the pock marks and
blemishes. Half his left ear was gone, the result of a fight he’d had several
years ago. He grimaced at Steren and tutted loudly. “Now now, let’s not
forget who you’re talking to fat man”, he chided as if talking to a child.
His brothers simply glared at Sengen but the other four tittered loudly. “Of
course the drinks are on the house. You don’t expect us to PAY do you?”
Steren swallowed
hard, trying to control his shaking. “No offence meant boys, take a seat.
I’ll bring a few bottles right over.”
Unik moved
forward slowly, his brothers flanking him. He lunged and grabbed Steren by the
lapels of his shirt, pulling him halfway over the bar. He whispered slowly, “You
call me sir you fat idiot. You understand that?!!”
Steren was
terrified but he nodded slowly then added, “Yes sir”. The Aaron brothers
had clearly had a bad time, whatever they’d been doing while they were away. He
glanced at Malik and Doren, the two younger brothers. They were taller than
Unik, their wide brimmed hats battered by wind and rain. Their long leather
coats faded. All were armed with swords and Steren prayed to his personal gods
that they would simply get drunk and then leave.
Unik smirked and
let him go. He turned to where the two men were playing dice. They were looking
at him with wide eyed fear in silence. Unik smiled amiably and said, “You
two chaps won’t mind buying us a drink will you? And that table is mine I think
you’ll find.”
The four other
mean surrounded them, hands resting on the hilts of their swords. The menace
was palpable but no one spoke. Slowly the two men took leather purses from
their belts and placed them on the table with a loud jingle. Unik chuckled and
the two men stood up and moved to the door, the wall of men parting to let them
out.
“Splendid,” Unik said
grinning. Some of his teeth were missing and his smile was far from pleasant to
see.
“What about him?” one of his men
said, pointing to where Old Ben still sat snoring, head on the table.
Unik chuckled. “Old
Ben’s a good lad. Just leave him. He was a friend of my father’s.”
They pulled
chairs up to the table and Steren arrived with two large bottles of rum.
“That the best
you can do old man?” Unik snapped angrily.
“No, no. Not at
all,” Steren said quickly. Just getting you some more.”
“Good man,” Unik replied,
not looking at him. He pulled the cork with his teeth from a bottle and took a
big swig. Steren returned with two more bottles and put them on the table, then
returning with a tray of small glasses.
“Well lads” Unik said
looking round the dimly lit room, “Never thought I’d see this place again.
Good to be back don’t you think?”
The others
sniggered and one poured rum into the glasses and they raised them in a toast.
“To taking
whatever you want!” Unik said, glancing at Steren who looked away.
The others
shouted back, “WHATEVER WE WANT!” and swiftly downed the drinks.
Unik looked
around the room, his eyes finally fully adjusting to the gloom. He saw the
stranger in the corner. His brow creased. The man was simply staring at them,
one hand holding a glass. As he looked at the stranger the other man made no
attempt to look away or acknowledge him. Unik’s anger riled and he said loudly,
“Well, well boys. Looks like we’ve got a new friend in our tavern. Why don’t we
say hello.” He stood up ,his chair scraping back as he got to his feet.
He sauntered over
to where the stranger sat. The man simply stared at him levelly as he
approached. His brothers flanking him and the others one step behind.
“It’s polite to
introduce yourself when your betters enter a room,” Unik said grinning.
The stranger
simply looked at him, then the others, then slowly raised his glass to his lips
and took a drink.
“Cat got your
tongue?” Unik asked. His brothers smiled and the others giggled again. “I
must say you’re a quiet one. Still I’ll forgive your lack of manners if you buy
us all a drink. Can’t say fairer than that can I?”
The man’s
expression didn’t change. He slowly finished his drink, put his glass on the
table and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked past Unik
to the bar, his expression one of complete disinterest. He took the bottle and
filled his glass again, ignoring all of them.
Unik found his
temper fraying. He got respect wherever he went and this man wasn’t even
acknowledging him. His cheerful façade slipped. Through gritted teeth he
hissed, “I’m talking to you. Now you put down that glass and pay attention
to me.” He looked at the stranger’s wrist and saw the bracelet, a many
sided, multi coloured jewel encased in strands of silver over a chunky leather
strap. “I think we can start by you handing over that bracelet if you want
us to forgive your rudeness.” One of his brothers laughed loudly.
Finally the
stranger spoke. His tone was weary and cracked, as if he didn't speak very
often and his voice was rarely used.
“Everywhere I go,
I meet people like you,” he said, staring at Unik again.
Unik felt his
anger overflow. This man wasn't even afraid of him.
“Well, maybe you
won’t go anywhere else my friend.”
Alaskadie eyes
were impossible to read and a look of utter fury began to form, like black
storm clouds on the horizon. He slowly took his hand from the table and a
short, wicked looking blade was revealed that his palm had been covering.
He glared at Unik
and said slowly. “If you can take this knife from the table, then you may
take my bracelet.”
Unik grinned once
more. “Oh, you want to play silly games do you?” He snarled and lunged
for the dagger with one hand while his other lunged for his sword. At this
range he could take the stranger’s head from his shoulders in one swipe. He
grasped the hilt and began drawing the blade, felt it slide from the scabbard,
halfway out, more.
Then…suddenly the
stranger vanished.
Alaskadie appeared in the room. The room
that had been used by his predecessors. The secret room, hidden deep below the
palace and known only to a handful of people, the room where the protectors of
a multitude of worlds could be called. For over a hundred years no Octagon
sentinel had been summoned. Four priests of the Guardianship stood in a semi
circle around the dish in the middle of the room. Their white robes were
dazzling and perfect. Six guards stood in shining armour, hand picked for this
honour that would doubtless not happen again in their lives or the lives of
their children, or their children’s children. Their armour was gleaming as they
stood nervously awaiting the arrival of a legend so secret that it was a fairy
tale for generations. A protector of the Octagon.
With this one
secured and the formalities out of the way, the summoning of the remaining
sentinels could take place. The Prime Guardian calmed his nerves and despite
the gravity of their situation, was immeasurably pleased to have the honour of
being present at such a historic event. The three available would assemble here
and be despatched together to return the crystals that Scious had so stupidly
stolen. A simple task, but one that required a very complex set of protocols
and magic to invoke. To see such a secret order of people in one room was
something few men knew could ever happen, let alone dream of seeing.
As Alaskadie
fully materialised Jakoban began to recite the lines, last spoken generations
ago, to formally welcome the most exalted guest. “It is an honour to be
present at your most…” his voice faltered as he realised something was
terribly wrong.
Instead of a man
materialising before him Jakoban could only see a chaotic weaving of clothing
and flesh. It was as if someone was shaking the man inside the Shimmer dish
like a dog with a rat. With a final flash of bright light the sentinel fully
appeared.
The figure before
them wasn’t a man but a pure blur of motion, impossible to focus upon. Before
anyone could speak the blur moved incredibly fast from the stone dish and the
nearest guard went flying into the wall, armour crashing loudly. The others
didn’t have time to react before the blur moved to them. In the space of a few
seconds all five were thrown like rag dolls into the walls of the room. Jakoban
made to move away but the blur turned towards him and through a scattered staccato
of speech, the terrifying vision swarmed on him, high shouts and yells
emanating from the spinning smear of violence. Jakoban felt himself lifted and
hurled backwards, landing heavily into the crystals set out so lovingly for the
summoning of the sentinel’s fellow kind. The precious glass smashed as it
collided with the wall and floor. The other priests scattered to the far end of
the long room. The haze snarled in anger and made towards them but suddenly
purple light erupted from the doorway and cocooned the hazy form. It continued
to thrash violently but the cocoon morphed until it held the man in an oval
prison. Alaskadie howled in frustration and the priests turned to stare in
fright at the doorway. Jakoban raised his head and stared in frightened awe at
the spectacle.
Sophie stood
there, Mordalayn beside her. Her hand was raised, the purple light emanating
from her outstretched fingertips. Alaskadie continued to thrash and blur inside
his tiny cell, screaming with rage. Mordalayn stared at the spectacle, his brow
furrowing in concern, for the first time in a long time, not knowing what to
do.
Sophie spoke, her
voice quiet but carrying in the narrow room. “Octagon sentinel, we are not
your enemies. We summoned you because we need you. Please trust us.”
Alaskadie beat
against the walls of light holding him. The oval cocoon stuttered and Sophie
muttered some words and the spell was reinforced, pinning the furious,
screeching man once more.
“Please,
Alaskadie. We need you, we are not your enemies, please trust us.”
The blur began to
slow and Alaskadie became visible to the entranced audience. As the blurring
slowed more they could see the sweat lining every visible piece of skin on his
body and soaking his clothes, his shirt stuck to his muscled chest and heavy
arms. As his body stopped hazing he staggered and fell to his knees with a
thud, breathing heavily, palms open to support him as he panted and gasped.
“I will release
the holding spell now, we are not your enemies,” Sophie said once
more.
Mordalayn’s sword
was instantly in his hand. “My Lady!” he growled, moving to stand in
front of her.
She turned to
stare up at her bodyguard. “Takoba, he is not a threat. Look.” With that
she lowered her hand and the purple light vanished. Alaskadie remained on his
knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Slowly he raised his head and looked
at them both, saying nothing.
“What, what is
he?”
Mordalayn asked in bewilderment, staring at the man.
“He is a rage
dancer, he can harness the power of warping . A power known only to few and
used very rarely. He is now exhausted beyond endurance. The guards are lucky
they did not draw their swords. If they had he would have killed them.” She turned to
Alaskadie. “You are my guest here but we have need of you Chosen One.”
Slowly Alaskadie
stood up, almost falling as he staggered upright.
“Are you calm
now?” Sophie asked gently, her face full of concern
After a long
pause Alaskadie took a deep breath. “You are the Emerald ruler?” he
asked still panting, his breath slowly returning to normal.
Sophie looked at
the man then replied. “I am. Why were you warping when we summoned you?”
she asked looking puzzled.
Alaskadie smiled.
“In over 100 years, no sentinel has ever been named for summoning. The fates decreed that you
called me to you just as I was about to teach some cut throats a lesson.”
Sophie smiled too
and Mordalayn resheathed his sword and stood back. The priests moved hesitantly
forward and the guards sat up groaning and painfully stood. Alaskadie turned to
Jakoban and winced when he saw the devastation he had wrought upon the
crystals. The only way of summoning the most elite of warriors. “My
apologies. My actions were not malicious. Can you still summon my brother and
sister kind?”
Jakoban shook his
head and with a wheeze, the bearded man replied. “The crystals were
priceless. They can be replaced but not in time. I am afraid that you now are
our only hope.”
Alaskadie shook
his head sadly and reached down to help Jakoban up. His hands were soaking with
sweat. Once the priest was on his feet Alaskadie turned to Sophie. “Emerald
queen. Please tell me what you require of me. I, Alaskadie, guardian of the
Octagon , am yours to command.”
“Come” she said and they
left the room.
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