HoN Lore 28: Judgment

This chapter is dedicated to Serasboy from Heroes of Newerth Forums!

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“A brilliant plan,” commented the Silencer.

The group nodded in agreement.

Ophelia, and Nymphora were to return to the base in order for Ophelia to call upon the Behemoths to deploy, accompanied by Jereziah’s men via a writ of command from Jereziah. The Keeper of the Forest had worked with the Silencer to draw a map of where the towers were all located, The map would be copied and redistributed to the battalions who were ordered to attack the towers, who were to be protected by Jereziah’s men while they did what they could do to take down the towers: earthquakes.

As soon as the battalions were ready to move, Ophelia and Nymphora would return with a Behemoth to take down the tower they were dealing with in order to move on.

Meanwhile, the Keeper of the Forest and the Armadon would meet with different battalions in order to lead them through the Forest, each having advanced knowledge of the Forest’s layout.

“If everyone present agrees with the situation, then I believe we can begin?” asked Jereziah.

The Scout raised his hand. Jereziah looked at him.

“What do we do?” the Scout asked, and then pointed at the Blacksmith, Pyromancer, Legionnaire, Pebbles, Silencer, and himself.

“Our objective has not changed,” replied Jereziah, “We are still the main striking force into the heart of their territory. The other two forces are to fulfill two objectives: destroy the towers protecting the Shrine, and force the Hellbourne to divide their forces.”

“Ah. Divide and conquer,” commented the Blacksmith.

Jereziah noticed the Earth Elemental shifting visibly. It seemed unsettled.

“Is there a problem, Pebbles?”

The Earth Elemental did not answer for a short time, and then said, “Something wrong with Earth.”

That made no sense. Jereziah looked at Ophelia questioningly, imagining the ‘Earth’ referring to the Earth Goddess she was in charge of. She shook her head; nothing was wrong.

“What is it?” he asked Pebbles.

The Earth Elemental made a shrugging motion it had learned from Scout just yesterday, “Nothing underground.” Which seemed to it as though it was all that was needed to be said.

Jereziah dismissed it as the Earth Elemental saying that nothing was underground. In a way, he was right. Either way, he would later regret not paying more attention, and not asking about it more.

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“You can’t keep me here,” she said to him.

“No,” replied Seimei, shaking his head. “Not against your will.”

“However,” he continued, before she could voice anything, “I know what you want.”

She stared at him. “There is no…” she began, but he broke her off.

“You seek to die in combat, at the hands of someone who is stronger than you. I know this. And I know that it is impossible for me to best you, and therefore, I will not personally be doing it. That is what daemons are for.”

Seimei gestured, “This place is large enough for you to have your fun. I trust you will not be able to pass up the opportunity to fight against daemons.”

At a command, several materialized. “If you die, your soul is theirs for the taking,” said Seimei. “But I have confidence in your skill; you should be able to live long enough for me to finish my business with Arasunia.”

She unsheathed her swords without a word. From the side of her vision, she saw Seimei summon yet another daemon, and disappear in another flash of fire, but she was focused on the daemons in front of her. The largest one, especially, standing in the front, was easily twice her size.

“Quite large, are you?” she asked it, readying her stance. It did not answer, of course. Merely glared at her hungrily. But she was hungry too. Hungry for battle.

“Unfortunately for you, I’ve fought larger,” and she dove in, as the daemons piled on top of her.

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The warrior pushed his boot against the dead body of the last slain guard who had tried to protect the door, and yanked his sword out of the guard’s body. With satisfaction, he watched as the sword consumed the guard’s soul.

That was his pact with the Hellbourne. He would kill with this sword, and it would collect souls for him. When enough energy was collected, they would fulfill their side of the bargain.

He could not wait. With this sword, he was invincible. With each kill, he felt even more invigorated.

And with heavy gauntleted hands, he pushed open the door to the Inner Sanctum. He knew this place well, having walked its hallways many years before. He knew where they would be hiding.

“We have a guest,” came a voice from the room. The room was dark, for a clergy that worshipped the sun. The few sources of light included a round hole in the roof, but it only illuminated a table top, and the symbol imprinted on it. The warrior’s eyes narrowed. He did not recognize this.

“Ah, if it isn’t the late King,” said another voice, “Care to come in and join us?”

Without a word, the Warrior walked into the room.

A third voice, this time, “If I may be granted the knowledge as to the reason of your visit?”

They were confident in something. He knew it. There was no plausible explanation for the thirteen of them to not know or have seen his slaughter of all who stood in his way here.

But he said clearly, “There is something you have, that an acquaintance of mine wants back. I am here to claim it.”

Silence.

Then, “What makes you think we have this thing you refer to?”

“If you do not, I will simply search elsewhere,” he replied, “But there is another thing of interest to me here.”

“Oh? And what would that be?”

His sword flared to life with flames, as it illuminated the room, and he said, “Your souls.”

The light allowed him to see. The thirteen stayed sitting in their seats, cowls covering their faces, their robes betraying nothing of their body gestures.

“Our souls are not for you to take. We serve Sol; there is nothing for you here. Leave this place of judgment.”

It was here, and he knew it. But he was not one to be trifled with these silver tongued people. The daemon sensed his intentions and materialized, having accompanied him in silence as had been his command.

“Judgment? Then I shall judge you,” he said,”and I pronounce you guilty of lying.”

The undying horse snorted aloud as its rider fully materialized, twirling its scythe.

“Your souls are mine.”


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