The Legacy of Johannes Guile

[Old_Man]

Johannes Guile's Youth: Part 1


Several months had gone by since Johonnes passed on the care of his brood to a temporary caretaker. Since then he had travelled to Sepultra, established an occult library, and obtained the soul of his student, Bethrezoth, by blood pact.

Now his body sat frozen in time stasis on top of a tower, his disembodied soul traveling through time and space absorbing what knowledge it could gather on death and unlife.

Bloody shame all the knowledge was in the language of truth, which he could hardly recognize. He wasn't sure why exactly - but the thought of death, instead of terrifying him like it normally did, made him think of his past.

It made him think of the streets which raised him, and of the bastard who took him in. It was the start of a ruined life in a miserable time in a dying land.

------------------

It had been a long night - a cold night. It didn't help that he was scrawny and had a hard time keeping warm. Johannes was still tired, the cold hadn't let him sleep. But it was time to get to work. If you didn't work, you didn't eat. If you didn't eat, you were dead. And there wasn't anything in this world Johonnes hated more than the thought of dying.

Walking out of the alley he eyed potential targets on their way to work or to the market. They weren't people. No, they were just walking talking piggy banks ready for cracking.

Johannes could hardly believe his luck. Just out of the alley and he spottd a prime target. This guy's coin purse was HUGE. The mark was a tall skinny man wearing nice clothes - purple velvet. Must be some kind of noble slumming in the market district. Perfect.

Johannes shadowed his mark for about a block. The adrenaline kicked in and his blood felt like it was on fire. Whatever drowzy he had was quickly chased away. This was great, the mark's bulging pouch swayed with his every step - almost hipnotizing Johannes. Every tick and tock of that purple purse evoked images of roast boar and honey mead.

The man suddenly stopped and turned to look at some vendor's wares on the busy street. Now was his chance. Johannes picked up the pace and redied a small dagger while his heart thumped wildly in his chest. Johannes eyed the purse strings. Three steps. Two. One. BUMP him hard. Cut the strings. Pocket the loot.

"Watch it mister, don't just stop in the street." Johannes said.

"Oh, I . . . excuse me." Said the man.

Johannes fought the urge to run. He'd get a lot farther if he just played it calm. Hopefully, the man wouldn't notice until . . . yes. Johannes cleared the corner into the next alley. He couldn't believe it, that had been easy.

"Hey kid." A deep voice bellowed from behind him.

Johannes froze and sheer terror shot through him. Play it calm, he thought to himself, play it calm.

"Ya? What do you want?" He said while turning around. Shit, his voice cracked and his hands were starting to shake.

The man accross from him was tall and dark skinned, he had layers of chorded muscle and wore a hood over his head. He looked at Johannes and laughed.

"And here I thought you were a professional. Just look at yourself, shaking like a baby."

"Shut up, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me boy, I've been living on these streets my whole life. You got careless. You were so damn excited you forgot to check and see if anyone else was watching you."

Johannes didn't like this guy. He started looking for a way to escape.

"Look mister, I don't know what you're talking about. You must have the wrong guy."

"Oh ya? Then what's that bulge under your tattered excuse for a shirt?"

Johannes thought for a second.

"I took a dump in the street and picked it up so no one would step in it. I'm a nice guy."

"Ha-ha-ha! Oh hell, you're a funny one. I tell you what kid, you've got two choices. You give me that coin purse and work for me - or I take that coin purse and slit your throat for stealing goods on my turf. So, what will it be?"

Johannes started to edge backwards to the other end of the alley when he noticed that a shadow was leaning in from behind him.

"Oh, uh, I like working. I always wanted a boss." Johannes said as he quickly dropped his knife and walked forward with the coin purse outstretched. When he made it forward a few steps he shot a look back; but, he only caught a glimpse of the trail end of a cloak as someone walked around the corner.

"Good decision, kid. I can tell that you're a surviver already."

Just then the nobleman nearly ran past the alley, stopping as he noticed the two of them standing there.

"YOU THERE!" He screeched, glaring at the two of them. "That child bumped into me and stole my wallet. It's a humiliation! Kill him immediately!"

Johannes swallowed hard and was just about to bolt when the hooded man placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Now now, no harm done Mister Marcy. I have your coins right here. The boy doesn't need to die."

"But the humiliation. I want his blood. Cut off his hands or something, and be quick about it - before a patrol comes by."

" 'fraid I can't do that, sir. It's against the law you know."

"What the hell do I pay you people for?! You're supposed to protect me. And not only do you fail to do that, but you deny me justice when I so richly deserve it. You miserable commoners are all the same. I spit on the black brigands; worthless, the lot of you."

The hooded man turned to face the noble and, quick as lightning, threw a dagger so hard that it stuck into the compact dirt at the nobleman's feet.

"Don't be rude. If you don't like our work then you go hire someone else. Simple as that. I'll be keeping this coinpurse as compensation for your lip. Next time I won't be so generous."

The nobleman must have fallen at least three times as he stumbled and ran away, but Johannes could hardly tell since he was laughing too hard to notice.

"Wow, that was great. You were awesome!"

"Yeah? You liked that, kid?"

"I sure did. My name is Johannes." He said as he stuck out his hand.

The black brigand took his hand and shook it hard. "My name is... you don't get to know my name, yet. For now, just call me Guile."

The hooded man motioned for him to follow, "Come on, kid, you've got a lot of learning to do."

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[Old_Man]

Johannes Guile's Youth - Part two.

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Over the next several years Johonnes was trained to be a premier sport fencer and was taught the ways of nobility. He learned how they walked and how they talked. He was, of course, anything but noble.

Guile, the master who would never tell his name, used Johonnes to conduct scams amongst the nobles of various lands. He kept Johonnes in line by promising him that he knew were Johan's parents were and that he would take him there one day after he had earned his keep. Johannes dreamed of meeting his parents every night for years. However, eventually Johon lost that hope and bitterness over the lies set in.

Through all the forced scams and forced betrayles Johon developed a chamelion personality that lent itself well to any situation; and, most of all, he had a knowledge of when it was time to run.

Guile had said he was crazy, but Johannes had begun to hear strange disembodied voices that told him when people were approaching soon after his sixteenth birthday. In the two years since, this gift had saved his life more than once. However, Guile had punished him bitterly every time he mentioned his blossoming gifts - even threatening him with death - so he soon learned to keep them a secret.

Because of the abuse Johon was always watching for the moment he could run. Meanwhile, the gang of brigands roamed the different lands selling bogus mine and land grants and raiding noble houses. But, through all their time together Guile never trusted Johannes. It was like he could see how much Johannes hated getting to know people and then betraying them. It was like he enjoyed making Johan do it.

One day arrived, however, that Guile and Johannes were alone - there were no alley backstabbers to support Guile that day.

* * *

Guile had said they were comming to finally visit Johon's parents . . . what a load of horsedung. Johannes knew a deathmarch when he saw one and he wasn't going to wait around for the finale.

Rain pelted the ground as Johannes slowly crept out of the decaying cabin they'd used for the night. Guile lay snoring behind him and the full moon peeked through the clouds, beconing him forward.

Goodbye Guile, I won't miss you. Johannes thought to himself. He new this countryside well. It was around the same city where he had originally met Guile in that alleyway so many years ago. Here there were plenty of places a man could disappear, and that's exactly what he planned to do.

Bah, things have changed around here. He thought to himself. That wasn't it though, it was just bloody dark and he was stumbling through a forest filled with briars that were hungry for any exposed flesh. After about half an hour he finally made it to an open field, but by this time the rain had intensified and the moon had disappeared.

The rain was cold and thick, and it hit him heavy on the head. His wool clothes clung to his body and water ran down his legs into his boots, causing his feet to gain weight with the rain, and slowing his pace as he plodded along blindly.

He's comming... he's comming... The voices warned him. HE'S COMMING... and there are others... But those weren't the only voices. There were many more, comming from below.

Johannes grabbed at his waist instinctively for a rapier that wasn't there. Damn that Guile, he planned this all along. Then, from the distance, there came a baying of bloodhounds.

They have dogs?! For the first time in a long time Johannes began to panic and his heart beat wildly in his chest. He ran forward until his legs slammed into something, causing pain to arc through his lower body. Bloody hell that hurt. He felt like vomiting, but he had to keep going. Unable to fully walk, he crawled, feeling his way forward through the mud and weeds. Whatever that thing had been there was a lot more of them.

This was crazy. There were stone somethings sticking out of the ground all over the place, hounds bayed madly closer and closer every second, and the voices below had turned a cacophony of shouts and wails. It was then he saw the light of the lanterns from behind.

"Hey kid." Said old familiar voice bellowed from behind, causing him to freeze in terror. But, somehow, Johon still found that he could talk.

"Ya, what do you want?" He said. Somehow, he felt like he had done this all before.

"I kept my promise." Guile said. Johannes turned around to look at Guile, but was blinded by the lantern-light, so he averted his eyes and finally saw the stone somethings... they were tombstones, and there were hundreds of them. More lanterns began to gather and men in white and red stood holding them.

"What promise?" Johon managed to say through his fear.

"I brought you to your parents. You're probably sitting on them right now."

Johannes felt a rage shoot through him like he had never felt before. "You bastard! Why are you doing this to me? I thought we were friends!"

"We were." Guile said as a hound tugged wildly on the leash in his hand. "But then I found out who and what you are."

"What the hell are you talking about Guile?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"No. I don't. I've never done anything other than what you've told me to do."

"I'm talking about the voices Johonnes. The voices and the strange things that always happen around you. I'm talking about that creature that killed one of my best men when you went on that mission. You're a DAMNED MAGE JOHON! You're a liabiity, a curse on the world, and I've brought the church with me to purge you from Eden." Guile then looked to the man in white armor standing next to him. "He's all yours." Then he released the dog.

This can't be happening. Johannes thought as the beast ran at him. But it was. Johannes shielded himself with his arms and the dog latched onto his forarm, ripping and shredding as it shook it's head violently.

The men around him laughed as they saw him struggle with the dog. "We're not going to have to do anything, good ol' Rosco is going to kill him without us. Git'em Rosco! Rip his throat out! Die you damned mage!" The cheers went out.

Johon wasn't going to die... never die... never die. I can't die! The rage returned and he rolled the dog over, pinning it with his weight. He latched onto the dog's throat with his free hand and began to squeeze...SQEEZE. The dog released his arm and began to kick with all fours as it tried to escape. He grabbed with both hands now, still squeezing... until the dog lie still. Stench rose from the animal as exrement poured from it dead bowles.

Johon's blood poured forth freely from his arm onto the dead creature and onto the ground... and the voices from below screamed louder. "Use us..."

"That bastard just kill my dog! Get him, I'm gonna make him suffer before he dies!" Yelled the man in plate armor.

"Use us..." The voices said.

The Decusian palandins began to move towards him.

"Use us!"

Suddenly, an image of a strange symbol flashed before Johon's eyes and his hand began to move on it's own, using his own blood to trace the strange symbol onto the dead dog and onto the dirt.

Immediatly afterwards the voices ceased. And the dog began to move.

"Look, it's Rosco, he's moving! I knew he was too tough to be done in that easy. Come here boy." The man said and whistled to his dog. But the dog did not come, it only growled and glared at the man.

"Aww, he's just a little shook up from the fight, come here boy." The man said to the dog and then looked to his men. "Let me get Rosco first, then tie up that mage so we can have some fun with him before he dies." Then he laid down his sword and shield and took off his helmet. He was a young man, not much older than Johon himself. He got on his knees and beckoned to the dog. "Here Rosco."

Without warning the dog launched itself at the man's throat and with a single wrenching pull there flew giant gushing streams of blood into the air.

"What in the name of Decus!?" Screemed another one of the men. "It killed the leiutenant! The mage must be controlling it - kill the mage!"

But no sooner had the lieutenant's corpse hit the ground, than did he stand back up.

"Oh God. Quick, kill him now!" The remaining five men rushed towards Johon, swords raised high. But before they could reach him skelletal hands burst from the ground beneath them, grabbing their legs and holding them tight. "Oh my God, no, NO!" The lieutenant's corpse had recovered the lieutenant's sword and slowly, meticulously, it decapitated four of the men in turn, each with a single blow to the neck.

Johonnes was nearly paralized by what he was seeing. Fear, outrage, and sorrow coursed through him. He had fought men in combat before, but he had never killed. He had always managed to avoid killing. It wasn't supposed to be like this: their eyes filled with terror, the stench of blood filling the air. He had never wanted this. He just wanted it all to stop...

"Stop!"

And it did stop. Five undead paladins, an undead dog, and countless skeletal arms stopped moving. The last live paladin fell to the ground, crying in great heaving sobs, the skeletal hands still latched to his legs. Johonnes walked over to him, still a little wary of the creatures that seemed to be under his control.

"I'm... I'm sorry - for all of this. Are you alright?"

The man screamed in terror. "Get away! Get away from me you monster! Let me go, please God, I have a family, please let me go."

Johannes thought for a second. "Alright. But you have to promise never to come after me again. I just want to be left alone."

"Anything, Anything! I promise, just please let me go."

Johon nodded and looked to the creatures and said, in his best commanding voice: "let-him-go"

And they did. The terrified paladin went screaming into the dark of the night. Heh, that felt pretty good. He looked at the gruesome creatures again and had to swallow back a bit of bile in his throat. Damn, they really were ugly. But then an odd idea hit him.

"Dance."

And they did. Five undead paladins, an undead dog, and countless skeletal hands danced. Johannes laughed, they didn't seem so nasty now.

Suddenly, a warning voice's shrill wail rang in his ear. Johonnes turned around quickly. Too late. All he saw was Guile thrusting a dagger into his chest. Pain, terrible pain engulfed Johonnes. And then cold, as his life's blood flowed out, there was nothing but the cold of death.

Guile grinned and mouthed the word, "Die."

"N-No."

Another flash of symbols crossed Johonnes's mind and he grabbed Guile's arm. Using the last of his strength Johonnes used his own blood to draw a symbol on Guile's forehead. "I-I'll come back for you, forever, I'll haunt you and kill you in your dreams every night, you bastard. Unless you give me what I want, just one tiny thing for my deathwish, you promise? Promise me and I'll forgive you."

For the first time since he had known him Guile looked truly terrified. "S-sure. Anything you want, just tell me. You know I'm good for it, I brought you to your parents after all."

"I want your body."

"What? No, you can't."

"Yes I can... you promised anything after all. Remember?" Johon laughed a mad laugh that echoed over the rain and the forests even as blood gurgled into his throat and the cold of death overcame his brain.

* * *

The following morning he woke up with one hell of a bad headache. The sun glared at him from overhead. As he got up he began to remember what had happened. The voices, the betrayal, the night of death... and.... there was his body - his old body. It lay dead and empty on the ground beside him, as useless as a snake's shed skin.

From now on he was Guile... Johonnes Guile.

[Old_Man]

Johonnes Guile is a man ever ruled by curiosity. In his night of darkeness he claimed the soul of a young man. He experienced the thrill of destruction and saw in the eyes of a young woman, named Appoletta, the sheer terror of what he had done. Was it guilt that brought him to that wall overlooking the church, or was it curiosity? He didn't know. All he knew was that falling into the Church district meant one thing to a man like him: certain death.

And yet here he was, a twisted ankle and several bruises later, standing in the middle of what would surely be one of the biggest trials of his life.
----------------------------------------------------------

The district was lonesome and nearly deserted, not at all like he had thought it would be. The great fluted architecture of the church of Decus stood desolate since the revolt. First thing was first, though, he needed to heal his foot.

He grabbed a small bag of gravedust from his pouch and poured it into his mouth, then chanted an incantation. His ligaments soon snapped into place and the bruises faded significantly. Now he could run if need be. Next he needed to find a disguise.

Dodging patrols, he made his way to the first building he saw, the Church treasury. The building was abandoned. The lockers stood mostly empty. Comming to the locker of Idwill Kavanaugh he took out the skull from his pack, staring into its empty sockets. He suddenly had a great surge of pity and almost decided to leave the skull in its locker as a testimony to a man who had sacrificed his life to bring down one of the Resolve, those bastards who loosed the torment upon Eden.

But he kept it. It could be a useful bargaining tool to use with the Resolve, should he ever meet one.

"Sorry, you can't rest yet." He said to the skull as he shoved it back into his pouch. Instead of leaving something behind, he took even more from Idwill. He stole a white robe and red cloak and then patted the skull in his pouch in thanks.

Garbed in Red and White Johon made for the gates of the district, but suddenly stopped. Off to his left lay what looked to be a grand library. Why not? He thought to himself. Things weren't going so bad, he could chance a little look around.

The guards to the libary allowed him to pass, but the journey was fruitless. Nothing there but empty rhetoric of mindless faithfull. He went to another building... closer to the central place of worship. His guardian spirits screemed of danger as he moved closer, but he went still.

As he passed through the threshold of the building he was filled with a strange sense of peace and his guardian spirits were abruptly silenced. They could not enter. The building was filled with pews and a dias, upon the dias lay an ancient tome.

Johonnes was filled with anticipation and opened the book, which was simply labled the "Book of Truth." He read for what seemed like hours and hours. He read of the creation of the universe, of the heavans, and of hell. He read of the Rapture and the near destruction of all things. He read of the armistace and of the arbiters, the enforcers of the doctrine and of the tenuous balance of Eden. He saw the truth of it, as it reflected his memories of his time in the planes.

And he wept. All this time... all this time he was a fool for relying too heavily on the dark. Such imbalance would surely lead to his destruction, he knew now what he must do. Then a heavy hand clasped his shoulder.

"Ah, friend, it has been a long time since I've seen someone so moved by the good book. Take off your hood and share with me your name." A husky voice said from behind him.

Why didn't the voices warn me?! He thought in terror. But then he rememberd that they could not follow him here, and he turned to face his fate. The sight of the man in front of him sent a tremble down his spine. Memories of Decusian Shock Troopers hunting him for decades flashed across his eyes. To Johonnes this man was more terrifying than any daemon. Worse, this man had suvived the purge and must contain a great power within himself. Johon knew his only chance would be to flee and he started to think quickly.

But the Shock Trooper didn't give him long to think. "Wait... I remember that robe. Who are you?!" The man said as he grabbed Johonnes's arm with one giant hand and grabbed for a weapon with the other.

Johonnes didn't speak. With his free hand he jabbed a thumb into the corner of the Trooper's eye, thrust in, and raked it powerfully across - popping the eye from it's socket and leaving it to hang on the optical nerve. The giant of a man bellowed in rage and hesitated, but he would not let go of Johon's arm. He continued to withdraw his weapon, nearly unphased.

"Monster!" Johonnes cried in terror. Johonnes wrestled with the powerful man and managed to cast his weapon clattering to the floor, he tried to summon dae energy but as soon as he said the words they faded without effect. The screams of battle drew shouts from outside the church. Was this the end? The giant, deprived of his weapon, hammered at Johon's head with his fist. His aim was off, and he only landed glancing blows, but Johon's head was still spinning. He had to escape.

Kicking the man away from him, Johonnes grabbed at his last hope. He pulled a red pulsing orb from his poutch, thrust it into the air and bellowed the incantation for teleportation. The orb exploded into shards of red gemstone and for a moment Johonnes thought his life was at an end. Then he felt the familiar tugging of the transportation spell at his center.

Moments later Johonnes found himself a block away from the gate with shards of the red gem sticking into his hand, oozing blood - and the familiar screames of danger inside his head. He wrapped his hand in the red cloak and made his way quickly to the gate.

Approching the curious looking guards, he spoke. "Hail friends, I have some business to do in town, mind letting me pass?"

"Alright," said the guard, "Do you have any idea what's going on over there? We heard shouting."

"Hmmm? Oh, no, not really. I'm sure it's probably just an enthusiastic preaching by the big guy at the church."

The guard laughed. "Oh, him. Yes, his faith is very inspiring, if a little overpowering at times." The guard motioned to the person manning the winch and the the portcullis slowly slid upwards. "Travel safely and be back soon, we're going to lock down the gate at nightfall and you won't be able to get back in."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not worried about that in the slightest." Johon said in passing. "May the eight guide you."

It was about five minutes later that Johonnes got the shakes. He couldn't walk, he couldn't talk, all he could do is lay in the alley, pull the shards of his hard earned gem from his bleeding hand and think of the changed destiny that he now faced himself with. Things would have to be different than he had originally planned, yes, much different.

[Old_Man]

*For this post I'm going to assume that Johannes made it to lichhood and several hundred years have passed*

"How long has it been now?" He said while gazing up at the night sky. His voice comeing from an etherial pit in his stomach, as his lungs had decayed several hundred years ago and could no longer give breath to normal voice. But, the stars would not answer. They simply winked at him, as if they had some great knowledge form their millenia of existence - some great truth he did not yet know.

Looking down from his tower he looked over the ruins of the ancient city of Tor. How great it had once been, even when it was ailing with the torment it sparkled with the fire of hope. But that was over now. The blood drinkers had come, and they had harvested - and he had helped them.

Regret filled him at that memory. At the very end he could have fought the numbers to save Tor, but he was too afraid, so very afraid. The demon within was strong and the numbers provided the only method of sealing it away for eternity. But now even they were gone.

One by one he had decieved them and hunted them over the past four hundred years. II had been the hardest, all he could do was seal two away back in his cave deep under ground. A shiver shook up Guile's exposed spine as he remembered the fight with II. Guile overcame hordes of tormented with his own army of undead. The Beast had destroyed Guile's body twice before the swarms of undead had managed to contain him within his cave.

Comming out of the memory, Guile gazed into a swirling mirror of reflective mercury. Hideous. All that remained of him after the fight with II was bone held together by daemonic energy. Guile punched at the image with a boney fist. But the enchanted mirror simply gave way at his strike, unbreaking. Guile kept the mirror as a reminder of what he was, should he ever start to forget what he had become.

Looking at the sky one last time Guile began the slow decent down from his tower. It was dark going down, but he didn't need to see. He had memorized the one-hundred-thirty-two steps and their exact angle of decent, so many times had he made this journey.

At the bottom he pulled on a dark hooded robe and opened a closet which contained a large curved scyth.

The weapon screeched at him from a fleshy hole near the top of the blade, "HOW LONG WERE YOU GOING TO MAKE ME WAIT THIS TIME?! I'M HUNGRY, DAMN YOU GUILE!"

He looked it over, the blade formed from the bones of the daemon he had enslaved, the staff covered with daemon flesh. He never got over how disgusting it looked.

"Shut up."

As he grabbed the enslaved creature he felt it's hunger flow into him, almost overpowering. He dreaded this, oh heaven how he dreaded it every single time. A pit of guilt formed where his stomach should have been, mixing with the daemon's hunger.

A long time passed while he walked to Johannesburg on the outskirts of the ruins. Who would it be this time? A woman? A man? Whose life would he take? Would they be a farmer, a poet, or maybe a priest of the Guilic cult? He hoped it was the latter, they were all nuts anyway.

As he walked past the threshold to the village all was quiet. The only sound came from his bone heals as they tread across the dirt. The sound of his heals, and as he got closer, the sound of the woman lashed to the sacrificial post in the center of town. She was crying.

"YESSSS!!" Shrieked the schyth. "I LOOOVEE WOMEN. IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT."

The woman screamed at hearing the voice, and struggled against her bindings. She was young, attractive. Her sacrificial robe fell off her shoulder exposing her tender unblemished skin.

"OH, OH, OH, I lOVE IT WHEN THEY STRUGGLE!!! SCREAM FOR ME, BEGGGG. HAHAAHA!!"

"Shut up." Guile said to the Scyth.

A pool of liquid began to form at the woman's feet and she began retching in her terror. He should get this over with fast, before she had to suffer anymore. He raised the scyth high over his head, when the sound of feet running towards him came from behind.

"NO!" Screemed a high pitched voice, and it was followed by a small thud that pushed him slightly forward. Johannes turned around slowly to find a small boy hitting him with his fists. "Leave, mama along, just leave her alone." Tears streaked down his face."

The woman had suddenly found her voice, "Fredrick, RUN, go back to the house - go back to your father."

"No mama, I won't go, I'm going to protect you." He shoutet back, pounding and ripping on Guile's shroud.

A priest with a skull mask emerged from the shadows. Grabbed the child. Held a bone knife to his throat.

"STOP!" Guile shouted. The preist froze, paralyzed by enchantment. A light flow of blood started a trickle down the child's throat. He lowered the Scyth and freed the child from the priest's frozen grip. The child fell to the dirt, dying.

"Fredrick? FREDRICK?!" His mother cried in alarm. "No, no,no,no,no, NO! Anything but my baby. Please, not my baby." The woman lurched against her bindings in great heaves, attempting to reunite herself with her dying child through sheer force of will. Her face turned with anguish, tears and wild hair streaking across her grim visage as she flung herself against her ropes.

Johannes kneeled by the child and touched his throat.

"No, please, please don't take him, he's just a child, you said you wouldn't take children Lord Guile, you promised - you promised. . ." She went limp, hanging against her restraints utterly exhausted.

A red light eminated from Guile's hand for over a minute. When he was done the child coughed and sat upright, blinking at him. Then he picked up a rock and wacked it against Guile's hollow skull with a dull thunk.

"HAH!" Shrieked the scyth. "SERVES YOU RIGHT, YOU WEALKING! NOW KILL THEM AND GET IT OVER WITH, I WANT ALL THREE. KILL THE PRIEST TOO."

The preist began to shake with fear, despite his paralysis, while the child kept throwing rocks at Guile's head. *Thunk... thunk...*

"Get..." *he chucked a rock* "away..." *another* "you..." *another* MONSTER!"

Guile dropped the scythe clattering into the dirt. Monster... yes, that's what he was. For a long time he had prided himself on how he had rescued and assembled this last bastion of humanity from the Illblooded. They had praised him as their deity. He maybe even had felt justified in killing a few here and there. It wasn't so bad when it was just the elderly or the criminals. But for the past generation no one committed crimes for fear of death and the population was getting steadily younger. And now... he looked at the child as another rocked thunked off his skull. Now those that had praised him saw him for what he really was.

"There's nothing left." He said to himself out loud with his alien voice. Guile picked up the scyth and raised it high above his head, turning to the woman. She screamed as he brought it down.

"HEY!" Shrieked the Scyth. "HEY-HEY-HEY! WHAT IN HELL ARE YOU DOING GUILE? YOU MISSED!"

Guile held a bony hand over the weapon's mouth hole as the woman's bindings slid from her body. Then he spoke.

"Take your child and go home, you are free."

The rocks stopped thunking against his skull as both woman and child stared at him motionless, unbelieving.

"Go on, before I change my mind." The daemon's hunger coarsed through him powerfully as he struggled to control himself, muffled screeches comming from beneath his bony hand.

Without another word they ran into the dark of the village, to terrified to speak. Then he turned to the priest and lifted the curse, before speaking.

"Tell the clergy that there are to be no more sacrifices. You are to go into the ruins and rebuild Tor. Spread humanity to all the corners of Eden. It is now the sole duty of all the clergy and magi to protect the people of Eden from harm, inside and out."

The priest started to interrupt, but Guile stopped him, his head reeling from the daemon's hunger and rage.

"You don't need me. Believe me, you are better off without me. Protect the people - grow strong, prosper, live. Don't regret death and pain, accept them as part of living and do your best with what you have - otherwise you may live a tortured existence too horrible to imagine."

Guile's bone arms started to quake. He wanted to tell him more. There was so much more he wanted to pass on, hundreds of years of knowledge and wisdom that he had kept hidden. Secrets of the universe, the purpose of existance which he had himself foresaken. But he had not the time, he had one last chore and it would take all his power to manage.

Without another word Guile turned from the confused preist and whispered the incantation for teleportation. A dark flash, a glimpse of the hells, and he was suddenly standing in front of II's cave. When he arrived he released the weapon's mouth. It could rant all it wanted now, he didn't care. But it didn't shriek, instead it was subdued.

"You're not going to be able to move, you know. If I don't eat we'll lock up. It'll be worse than death. I've told you this before."

"This isn't like before." Guile said as he pulled out his phalactory from behind his rib cage. The metal wire holding it in place was rusted, it took a couple of yanks to get free. Sure enough, the soulfire was dim. He didn't have much time.

"Oh?" Said the Scyth. "Are you going to smash your soul cage and kill yourself Guile? Finally given up have you? That didn't take long. I've been alive since time began Guile, YOU ARE WEAK. After a mere four hundred years you give up. I'm going to enjoy torturing your soul for all eternity after you die. You're going to PAY for what you've done to me. HA-HAHAHA!"

"You're wrong." He said as he worked on a series of runes at the entrance of the cave. "I'm not going to die. I want to be frozen."

"What?"

Guile placed his phalactory inside his skull and then sealed the hole to his braincase with enchanted metal. Quickly Guile mumbled the words for transfiguration. The same spell he had used to turn the daemon into the Scyth. He heard his body start to pull apart and reshape itself and was happy for the first time that he could no longer feel.

The Scyth also crumpled and reshaped, making itself into a beam. The rock from the cave mouth answered as well, merging with Guile's body and the Scyth to form a great door of stone, enchanted metal, bone, and daemon. His skull presided in the center of the closed doors so that any looking on the it would look upon him and be afraid.

With that his magical energy was all but spent. He wouldn't be casting another spell for at least another century or two. At least he would be able to warn away any passers by to stay away or to gather a great force to destroy II. He had been unable to accomplish that task, and he knew that II would break free of the primary seals someday.

But Guile would hold strong, with the daemon's energy and his soul's power he would hold II shut for all eternity if he had to. But he hoped for rest at somepoint, he wished for an avatar that would kill II and be done with it. Maybe one day he would open and allow past a great guardian who could rid the world of II forever. Maybe not. Even now he felt magical bond between his bones turning rigid. The lines of magic binding them were becoming like unbendable metal rods.

He looked out as the sun creeped over the horizon. The sky turned purple, then red, then gold. The fields in front of the cave ran on forever, spotted here and there with vibrant wild flowers. Birds chirped, greeting the new dawn. Maybe eternity wouldn't be so bad after all, with sights like this every day.

"Disgusting isn't it?" Said a fleshy face that had formed beside his own skull. "Oh, you didn't think you would get rid of me that easy did you?" Said the daemon. "No, I'm NOT GOING TO LET YOU FORGET ME!" It shrieked.

Guile laughed to himself. This is going to be an interesting eternity, he thought. If he didn't go insane from boredom he would lose it from listening to that guy for one thousand years. Maybe you can't avoid hell after all.