Chapter 2

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Dedicated to StellaFavour - Day ones !!!

Chapter 2

Past Promises

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Clamp!

The Old man stuttered in his wake- weak, frail, but stubborn of his own body's limit- he attacked. One resounding kick to the face sent him crashing back over the table. The mercenary drew his scarlet blade with a smurk; his eyes beaming a familiar red hue. His scarred left eye, all too nostalgic- Jack Roharz, the Red Mage.

Roharz rushed forth, grinning; his blade lusting for blood, straight into the depth of the darkness in the corner. But the darkness void hissed at him as it grew ever so larger, and more defiant. It seemed to whisper Roharz' greatest nightmare- before it exploded in his face.

"Thaw!" Roharz shouted with disgust, spitting into the ground he now laid in, some distance from where he was standing. His head was still ringing from the screams- the voices he'd heard when the darkness whispered to him.

The rest of the bar needed no greater invitation. The soloist quickened his tempo a tad bit faster with a rotten grill carved wide on his face. The moment he'd been waiting for the whole night. "Bar fight!!" A tall, thin man with shaggy brown hair and brown teeth to match stood up clenching a bottle in hand fiercely. He lived for those two words.

A rapid tornado of men, fists, blood, and teeth ravaged the bar, tearing wood, stone and skin as it did. It also tore some distance between the two mages. Bars in Shanklore all inclined to one specific architecture: shitty- "they will tear it apart anyway," depressing- "it's Shanklore," and an ever-presence of back doors.

The bartender casually slipped out the back with his coat over his shoulder for an early night. "This way," Hayden tailed the man. Ayala crutched the old man through as they hastily crept away. Hayden momentarily caught Roharz's temper flaring through his eyes as he tried to push through the crowd in vain. Every vein in Hayden was screaming murder, but some lingering hint of honor restrained his urges for the sake of his old mentor's daughter's safety to his surprise.

Unfortunately the tunnel underneath the bar barely took them away to safety, the exit was merely feet away. Several companions of the red mage were still scampering the outside looking for Ayala. There would have to be violence after all. "Wait here," Hayden said.

One mercenary standing right by the hatch had his lights snuffed out like the cigar in his mouth, right off the horse and into the drab earth in a second. It felt good to feel the cheek bones cracking on the Earth. The startled horse invited company. "Yann! You oka-" The next man only caught a glimpse of the demon prince right before a shadow swallowed him whole into the ground. His lungs would soon be filled with dirt as his eyes slowly watered swelling with blood.

"What in the bloody hell is going on here?!" What the other mercenary saw was only a silhouette figure of a woman standing in the distance. "Woman!? What are you doing standing here?" As he approached she seemed to be mourning.

"Urgh..." He groaned as he placed his hand on her shoulder, "Woma-"

Her head jerked, rotating- striving to see his face when her body seemed unwilling. "M-m-mother?" He stammered. Her head had been split open by the mercenary's own blade... He completely lost his will.

"Let's go." Even now, it took the old man a few seconds to accept help from the Black Mage, but he took the opportunity to make some ground. The commotion at the bar was the perfect distraction to the rest of the mercenaries. Roharz was still stuck in the bar; everybody knew that bar fights in Shanklore only had one rule, no magic. Anyone who broke the rule would incur the wrath of the whole bar- even a mage. Either Roharz didn't know, or his infamous rage had taken the best of him again.

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