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Sam: Moon Mage



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Fri Nov 11, 2011 12:26 am
Dawnpath1 says...



Magic
Prologue.

Hello. My name is Sam. I don't give my last name because names have power. A full name could give anyone the power to find you. And with my enemies, I can't afford that. I'm am a graduate of the mage academy. The ONLY mage academy. If you don't know it, you'll never find it. If you do, they'll find you. And unfortunately for me, I had much more than a spark of magic. But Academy life is not interesting. What you want to hear about is what came after. That is, after all, why you are here?

Ch. 1

When I first left the Academy, my only goal was to find a house, get a job, and start a family. What many consider 'normal'. What isn't normal is that I can do magic. And even more abnormal is that I specialize in moon magic. I can call upon moon worshipers (I.E. Wolves, zombies, bats... Nocturnal creatures) to do what I wish. I can talk to ghosts, and I can control and solidify moon-beams. This is definitely not what most consider normal. If you have anything like these abilities, you should immediately seek out the Academy.

As you can probably tell, this made it interesting to find a job. I am habitual nocturnal, with my... I guess you'd best understand it as 'mana', directly related to the moon. 'Mana' is the embodiment of energy, and is, in fact, your energy level. A mage uses 'mana' to direct their magic. Anyway, I ended up as a Zoologist, specializing in night-time animals and flora. It fit perfectly with my... special needs. It was also a big mistake.

I should have just painted a target over my head. "Moon mage here, Hire or Kill!" *Sigh* For a mage, no job is perfect. The first months where fine. I quickly grew accustom to the night time creatures. My research produced many different toxic and medical herbs, as well as new and interesting species. We think we know the world we live in, but the truth is we just pave over what we don't know. It's silly and childish, yet we still think we're so smart. It's sad, this mentality. Even the naturalists don't truly get it. I certainly can't comprehend the fabrics of nature. It is very complex.

After the first few months, a stranger apeered. He said his name was Jerrico Suzintski. He also could tell I was no scientist. He wanted me to do some research on plants. Specifically poisonous plants that could be useful to an assassin. I declined, saying that I had no need to set off another World War, when the world was still in debt from the last one. It got violent. He threatend me with my life, and still I refused. He pulled a gun on me, but it was night, so I burned his hand with moon light. I quickly snatched his gun, and pulled the firing pin. He left, cursing my name.

Ch. 2

Jerrico was the first of many to come. My night habits made me perfect for assassinations, and it seemed like that's all people wanted me to do; assassinate. As a mage, I am more skilled in protecting myself hand-to-hand than a Wizard, Witch, or Necromancer. And before I joined the academy, I learned Tai-Kwon-Do. But killing people for money wasn't for me.

I turned down those jobs, and, in return, they all tried to kill me. Here's the thing; An assassin who doesn't know I don't sleep at night is firstly a rookie, and secondly dead, if they're after me. It took them a long time to figure that out.

I've had to kill more than I'd like. Some of them never even got to me. There's a particularly deadly flower. It's touch can kill you in five minutes, and the only cure open in daylight. That's the problem with rookies. They don't know where the poisons on their blades come from.

The ones that finally did get to me where semi-talented, but always liked windows. I pierced their hearts with moon-beams and watched remorsefully as they fell back out the window. After a couple more of those incidents, it was quiet.

This peace was not to last, however. The people I turned down thought me skilled at this point, and put a bounty on my head. The first was $10,000. I was approached on the street by every misfortune goon who thought 10 grand could get them off the streets for good. After the 50 grand mark, I wanted to know what they wanted with me.

I joined the military. Oh, yes, I can see it in your eyes. Your thinking, finally, some action. Well, you’re absolutely right. Someone there new me. Knew me well. Her name was Cassandra. I'm protecting her identity, just encase she hasn't been caught yet. I was 'assigned' to a Special Forces unit and sent to training camp.

A military training camp is one place you never want to be. It's also the best self-defense training you'll ever get. It teaches; hand to hand, weapons accuracy, certain bits of martial arts, and the ability to stay calm during stressful situations. It is one place where pain is supposed to be commonplace.

Cassandra. She knew how to recruit the best. My unit was "Extraordinarily talented." We were all mages trained to be soldiers. We were dropped in areas that either required heavy fire-power, or extreme stealth.

At the time, I was young and foolish. I relished every moment of combat in the name of our country. I drowned myself in honor and pride. I would do anything for the United States. Short of killing my loved ones.

One day my mission was to shoot down a helicopter holding a high priority targets. I hadn't heard from Cassandra in months, and our new C.O. was anything but her. He seemed to hate her with every fiber of his being. But he was one of the bravest men I had ever met.

It was night, and my gear was a black covert suit, night vision goggles, a silenced pistol, and a rocket launcher. The rocket launcher was a last resort. I was to board the helicopter, wait for everyone to get on board, and kill everyone in it. But only one person got on board.

Ch. 3

Cassandra was a Death Mage. The only difference between a Necromancer/tress and a Death Mage is skill level and combat prowess. She was flying the chopper out, and that's when I knew she was my target. ‘What kind of sick joke was this?’ Was the thought that went through my head as I sat in the co-pilot seat and put on the headset. She asked me what I was doing, if I was there to kill her. She didn't alter anything. Almost like she expected someone to show up. I told her that I was supposed to kill her.

"Supposed to? What does that mean?"

"I'm not going to. You’re a target not even Uncle Sam could make me kill.

She stared at me hard. "You realize that now you’re going to be a target too, right?"

I told her that I had been a target ever since we left the academy. She nodded, and kept driving. I recall saying, "The only difference between now and then is that now I have a military instead of a faceless man.” She smiled at that.

It turned out that the Americans where killing all mages who weren’t theirs, and she did not agree with this policy. So she met up with some other mages, and ran away. The 'copter was compliments of a Love Mage with an ability to talk anything off anyone. Cassandra said she was going underground. Her plan was to get to Russia, where she could get some zombies, who happen to be world class diggers, to build an underground home, which was self-sufficient, and comfortable. And the Americans wouldn't dare chase us there, where a small missile strike could spark another World War.

I thought this was an excellent idea, and stuck with her for the entire journey. It started in Iraq. America was not going to let us leave easily. They shot down the chopper with an EMP burst that nearly killed us in what looked like an accident. The search teams found nothing. They found us about 15 miles from the border, using jeeps, dogs, and Scout Teams. We killed that entire battalion and stole their jeeps. I remember saying something about sides.

Cassandra's answer was, "We're on the side that doesn't want to kill, maim, or hurt us."

The next incident was in Mongolia. We were trying for the back end of Russia, where people came in short bursts. A helicopter trio was waiting for us. Hidden by a ridge. We summoned two recently deceased zombies to get shot up, and watched them leave. We hit Russia, and when we got to the first town, we discovered that America had pulled out all the stops. We had become international terrorists.

As one would expect, we disguised our selves. It had taken us a good 3 months to get to Russia. Since then, we had been strained to our limit. It was time to rest.

Ch. 4

We spent three days resting. I spent all of it sleeping. I had weird dreams about a big Uncle Sam picture hitting me in the head with a hammer. When I woke, I was still tired, and daylight was filtering into the dust room we were staying in. For me this was not pleasant. Then I realized that there was a Russian citizen on my door.

"American! American! We are under attack!"

It seems they found us. We thought we could hide in Russia, but even there, the U.S. had satellites, spies, and sleeper teams. We were lucky it even took three days. I should have known better, should've kept moving. But I didn't, and it is senseless for me to waste time on hindsight.

At the academy, they teach us to where, or keep, our robes with us at all times. It occurs to me now why that is. Our robes contain, store, and unleash our power. It was daylight. I should not have been able to kill their sleeper team. But as I put my hat on, and completed the robe, it could have been night for the chances they had. They all fell the same way, Silver spears of an unidentified metal through various parts of their bodies.

After leaving the town, we were well rested. But we were also road-weary, jumpy, and foreign. We both looked like a Halloween pair. It was probably the most ridiculous thing we did. We practically screamed mage. We had reached the tundra with three incidences similar to the one I just described. The thing about the tundra is someone can launch a missile, and it was;"Just a missile test." The first time went something like this.

We were walking across the frozen wasteland. It was the night of the full moon, and so, I was wide awake, at the top of my game. At first they looked like stars. But as they got closer, they more and mare resembled jets. They were unmarked, but I knew they were US. I remember being scared, on the verge of panic. Cassandra was resting, and couldn't see the jets yet. I told her we had to get moving, but she wouldn't listen.

"We've been moving for the last 10 hours. I need a break."

I was torn between saving myself, and protecting her. Obviously, my honor and pride won out.

"Fine," I told her, "We rest." But my mind wouldn't let me. Not with the jets looking closer. There were three, and I knew I could only hit one at a time. They would have normally been out of range, but it was the full moon. You know that stereo type about mages? They all have staffs? This is false. A staff is used as a focus. It's a requirement for beginners, but it's also a sniping tool for the experienced. The first one went down with a flash and a boom.

This caused the jets to scatter. When the second one went down similarly, I could swear time slowed. The truth is that my reaction time increased, because of the adrenaline. It had gotten a rocket off. I didn't know what to do, If I destroyed the missile, the last jet would have a clear shot. If I shot the jet, the missile would close in fast and kill us both. I sat there so long, the missile almost hit us. At the last moment, I threw up a silvery, spherical shield. The missile bounced off it, and failed to explode. I then launched the shield at the remaining jet, in the shape of a very large missile. It was a reaction that solidified our terrorism. We had, "RPGs, and an unknown weapon that launched silver spear-like projectiles, and raised the dead." Our plan was getting shot down like the combat jets.

Ch 5.

Three more air-strikes followed. Some of them where Russian. I begged Cassandra to abort the plan.

"You got a better one?" was her only response to that. There was another period of rest after the third air strike. We found a suitable place to build the underground bunker. We had begun construction when a small team of special assassins tried to kill us.

The zombified sentries and assorted nocturnal wildlife all where on edge when it happened. They attacked at night, which was to our advantage. However, the moon was a sliver. The assassins where equipped with small, poisoned dart guns. It was difficult to kill them, but we succeeded by luring them into a patch of poisonous bushes. It was not a pretty death.

We where halfway finished with the bunker. The next attack came, entered the front door, and got speared because they didn't disarm the alarm system. We had planned to live in the bunker, never going out, nothing coming in. We figured those types of safety mechanisms where appropriate.

We had different kinds of plants and animals scattered around the bunker as food and protection. These had been difficult to obtain without drawing attention to ourselves and our home. Money wasn't a problem, when the assassins came, they usually carried wallets, however, some just weren't in Russia. These we called the Academy for. They had also gone underground, so as to protect their neutrality, and students. We received small shipment of the required goods weekly, until we were ready. It almost seemed like we were going to make it.

Ch. 6

The thing about isolation is the boredom. We should have planned to bring a few friends, but our trust in others had all but fled. We had board games, some video games, and a few visitors here and there. But we couldn't handle being boxed in one place with nothing to do all day. We began going out of the bunker from time to time.

At first, it was okay. America had almost given up looking for us, and the few villages nearby were to poor to have T.V. We made contact with a few of the villagers, who were glad to give up some food in exchange for some of the fruit that didn't grow around the villages.

About 3 months in, we spotted a spy-plane fly by, and we knew it was time to leave. We packed everything that could be useful on the road, including a pair of 'confiscated' pistols. We then planted explosive ordinance in the base and fled as far as we could. About an hour later, there was a nice fireball in the sky.

America was not pleased. Russia was furious. We fled to Europe. We didn't stop moving from place to place until we landed in France. France was where we had hoped to find the rest of what was rapidly becoming known in America as 'The Resistance.' We knew we could no longer handle this alone. We were tired, burnt out (This means that using any more magic would probably kill us), wired, and under stress. The world was a battle zone, we were the targets.

Ch 7.

Paris. The city of love, food, and musicians. The city of the Eifle Tower, and The Guillotine. France is famous for many different things. It is also being slowly torn apart as the American Government tries to find the mages hidden there. Absolutely terrified that we, the free mages, would use our gifts, given to us by nature, against them.

Naturally, we end up killing many operatives, and assassins along the way. Long story short, the test-flight failure, the bombing run, and the satellite crash were us, all covered up by the U.S. Government to hide what they were doing, and suppress mad panic. Chaos, panic, all enemies to society as we know it. This keeps rich people rich.

Once in Paris we booked a hotel, four stars to avoid attention, and explored the city. Thoroughly. When we were comfortable we knew our escape routes, which took five days, we began searching for signs of mage activity. It's not too difficult if you know the signs. This person’s garden is extraordinary, that person has a way with animals, and so on. We were on the verge total melt-down. Forget burnt out; it was a miracle we hadn't spontaneously combusted. It was a miracle we could stand! We couldn't handle another ambush, which was precisely why there was one.

I'd love to say that by some mystical being we were able to slay the 2 assassins who tried to capture us. The truth is, we didn't even try. I recall falling into ones arms, the other one shrugging, and catching Cassandra before she fell. We had made the mistake of not using our beds the night before. They had dragged us half way to the vehicle when I was suddenly dropped.

Goon 1: "Whoa...!" He was slack jawed and staring. I managed to get under Cassandra before number two dropped her.

Goon 2: "Well hello zere, mad'am."

A female, approximately 5' 10'' was standing there in a pink dress, blushing and waving. I knew her immediately. Her name was Jessica, and she could talk bottle of whiskey off a drunkard. She also prefers Jess.

Jess: "Hi," she says in a small voice, shifting. And then, both Assassins dropped so quick you’d’ve thought their legs had blown off. The next person I saw surprised me. Surprised me so much I tried to drag both me, and Cassandra, to my feet. I also drew a .44 millimeter revolver, known as a Python, on him, limping away slowly.

"Don't move, or I swear I'll-," I had dropped the gun, "Punch you as hard as I can when your close enough."

He just laughed, "At this moment, you couldn't punch me and hold her up and the same time. It's a miracle your even able to stand. You are one hard, cold, gunslinger, Sam. Loyal, but cold." His name was Ezekiel, was known as Zeke to spare the pronunciation, and was a Sun mage. Ideally, he and I could defend a small fortress by ourselves at all times of the day, but it was rare that you got a Moon-Sun combination.

The reason for this is because we're opposites. Opposites attract in chemistry only, in relationships with others, they tend to separate faster than two positive side of a magnate. At the Academy, Zeke and I would fight every week, in the army, we where forcibly separated on multiple occasions, and was afterwards executively separated. We never went on the same assignments, we were never in the same base, and if we had to be around each other, we wore straightjackets, in a cell with one light bulb and no window. In which we would head-**** each other until we where both too tired to stand.

I was not thrilled when he was the one who caught me again.

"If this was any other situation, I would try to kick you senseless for touching me."

"I know that. That's why I caught you now, and not earlier" he replies, with a small grin. I'll say this for him, he's polite, and generally a nice guy, and I now hold no grudges against him. I trust him with my life.

Cassandra mumbles, “Where are you taking us? Alcatraz?" Alcatraz is one of the few magic suppressing prisons suitable to hold a mage still operational today. Even if the topside is a museum.

"America, are you crazy?" Jess smiles, “They’d kill us before we could get another chopper for you guys to crash in Iraq!" She giggles.

We all laugh which releases the tension.

"Grab the Python, Jess. He'll need it when he recovers. As I recall, he's a near dead shot with that thing." Zeke rubs the scar on his forehead.

"You’re lucky our very generous C.O. managed to shake my arm before the shot got off. You and me both."

This is what happened. In our first military conflict, High Command had made the mistake of placing Zeke and me in the same op. We were prepping for the op when I recognized him. He recognized me at the same moment and we narrowed eyes. At that moment Cassandra had finished looking over the Operative list. She proceeded to say, "Oh s***." at the moment I wiped out the very same Python I had just dropped on him. She managed to nudge my arm just enough for the shot to be non-fatal, sending us both to the ground.

"I feel yah man, and dang are you heavy," he manages to grin. And from that moment on, we were friends.

Ch. 8

After being half pushed, half pulled into their van, which was a pink hybrid, they set us down, strapped us in, and drove. We passed the hotel, our only marker, within minutes. The rest is kind of a blur, going in and out of consciousness. When your banged up as bad as we were, you're tired, to say the least. When I regained a shaky, but stable consciousness, I was in a room. It was dark, but it didn't matter. One of the perks of being a Moon Mage, I suppose. I looked at the medical equipment around me with wonder. I was hooked up to 3 separate IVs with a suitable tube coming from downstairs, if you catch my drift. I was wearing a paper gown, which shocked me so bad, I accidently knocked out all 4 tubes. Never try this; it’s very painful.

My surroundings studied, my next thought was of Cassandra, and before I remembered what had happened, I blew open my door, feeling a huge drop in stamina. Then I remember everything that had happened when I passed out. I was so embarrassed that I almost didn't leave the room. Almost. Something was out of place, I could feel it. I looked around for my clothes, and found my robe. I went to grab it, but then I noticed it bulging. I grabbed it, and gasped. Underneath the robe were two things; my pistol, polished, painted midnight blue with about 9 speed-clips,(clips with the shell casings welded to a metal disk, so as to just slot them into the gun) and a completely blue outfit. Made of dragon scales. Dragons, by the way, are so close to extinction, they've gone into hiding. We used to call them dinosaurs. 1 scale was rare. This many was unheard of. I left it, thinking it wasn't mine. As I walked out, I notice a few new features on my gun. The first thing was an electronic indicator, displaying the amount of bullets in the gun, and, strangely, a battery icon, like on a phone. It was full. I loaded a fresh clip, with a satisfying click, and strapped it on where I could grab it easily.

Walking's a bit of an overstatement, I stumbled threw the halls, looking for Cassandra, or anyone else I could recognize. I passed no-one. The place was strangely deserted, like the apocalypse was coming. For all I knew, it was. I found a room, entitled "Hospital 2." I would've passed it, except it had a big C on it. I fell against the door, turning the nob, and falling in. There she was, looking at me like I'd gone nuts. She was sitting in a chair, reading a book entitled Necromantress; The Complete History of Necromancy.

"You gunna pick yourself off the floor, or do you need help?" She asked slyly.

I really did try to get off the floor. Truly. I got about 3 inches and fell. "Oww."

It took her three seconds to cross the room and catch my head before I broke my nose. "You could have said, 'Yes, I do need help.' You’re not very good at this whole take it easy, rest, shake it off thing."

I stared at her blankly.

"I thought you were conscious when I gave that order..." She frowns.

"... Order?" I thought out loud, "Ma'am, I can't remember when I had my-" And I remembered that I wasn't in the U.S. Military,"*Cough* Last order from you."

She laughed, "Technically, I can't order you. However, I thought you'd take it better if I did. I was told by Zeke to give you this if you woke up. And to offer to join a militia."

That's when I noticed that she was wearing the Scale armor, and on her robe was a ranking insignia. I blinked a few times, "Militia? There are people fighting against the U.S.?"

"We're biding our time. We need more of everything. Food, water, guns, ammo, able-bodied men, anything needed to wage war. Militarily war, not total war, mind you."

Join a military? It had become an almost unthinkable thought, and here was the choice. Two things decided it for me; Loyalty and Respect. "I'll do it"

She smiled, and handed me a cloth object. I blinked. It was a General's insignia. "Ma'am, I don't deserve this. I was barely Private First Class. I-"

"Think, Sam. What have you done since leaving the military? You easily get this assignment. I had to push them to demote you, so you wouldn't be stuck at a desk. Not that I don't want you safe," she added, blushing noticeably,"But we need you on the field. Much more than me."

"The scales?" I noticed hers where black.

"Alchemist." My eyes widened. An alchemist was almost as rare as a Dragon. People always seem to try to kill them because they get to rich.

After that chat, I wandered back to my room. I looked at the vest. It stared back.I walked over to it, and studied it. It felt like it was studying me. I put it on. When the last peice was on, it form fitted, startling me. A slot opened, and a helmet tumbled down. It was similar is shape and dimension to a motorcycle helmet. It was a blue matching my suit, with 'Head-lights' and a blast shield. When I slipped it on, I heard an air filtration system kick in. A display appeared on my blast shield. It was similar to a First Person Shooter HUD. Ammo, bio-monitor, short-range radar, and a mana bar. My mana was very, very low. I heard a sucking noise, and felt the helmet attach to the suit. I sighed, and collapsed on the bed. There was too much excitement for the day. The last thing I remember was seeing my patch sow itself on my robe. Then I fell asleep.

Ch. 9

I slept for 2 whole days. Uninterupted, and taking in my condition, I was not suprised. I was suprised to find that it was 2 weeks since Zeke and Jess saved us. I was not happy.

"It didn't occur to ANY of you to wake me up?"

"You were fine," replies Zeke.

".............." It's hard to think of things to say when you’re ticked. Coherent thought is not the top of your priorities.

"*Whistle* If looks could kill..." mumbles Jess.

"They can. Faster than a bullet," I had never seen this person before, but Zeke and Jess snapped to attention. It was the first time I noticed their ranks: Zeke was a Colonel; Jess was a PFC. "At ease. You two," he stares at the others, “Have a briefing in 20 minutes. Best not to be late."

"Yes sir!" they said, leaving. I turn up the reflectivity of my blast shield, and study him. He was about average height, wearing casual fatigues. Apparently, he was confident that he wasn't getting any assignments soon. He had no rank patch, which threw me off. He had the air of a drill sergeant, with the looks of a politician. I didn't know him; I didn't trust him.

"So, you’re Sam. Initiated General on acceptance. Not all of us are... satisfied. You haven't exactly proven yourself loyal to our cause, even with your 'great' achievements."

"And you would be...?"

He glares, and it gives off a hawk like quality. "I am General Damen Kalvenstein. CO of the 1st Air force Division." he proclaims. Here’s how I changed it: "I am General Damen, major a**hole who will be in charge of your taxi service."

"Well, General Damen, is there a particular reason you seem so interested in me?"

"Yah, stay outta my way rookie. I might just even pick you up when you call."

"Sounds like a threat," I say. He cringes at the words. I let them fall with the chill of my now-destroyed arctic home, "You do not want to threaten me, do you General?"

His one flaw; pride, “I’ll do whatever I want."

"If you screw with me, or my men, my mission will not be America; I will hunt you down, and when I find you, I will kill you." And I leave before he can retort.

The complex was amazing, considering we where an underground, rebel party. We had computers, radios, air-craft, jeeps, and a few tanks. We had a research division, we had a prison-cell, and we even had a warehouse. The only way in was threw a maze of a catacomb, a cliff face where we launched our planes, and a small, private, well-defended dock. I was in charge of the 13th infantry division. Nick-named 'Wolves,' we where a four man pack, doing espionage, assassinations (to my distaste), night ops, and covert ops. Long gone were the days of midnight botany. Under my command was Tech Sargent and Field Medic Kim Shell, Vitality mage, PFC Andrew 'Knife' Hudson, hand-to-hand specialist, and Animal Mage (Officially Beast Mage, this is the nicer nick name), and Staff Sargent Avery Xavier, Weapons Specialist, and Weather Mage; our sniper. In the first week under my command, I established a chain of command, in between each combat drill, weapons test, and meal. I needed to know I could trust them, and I needed them to know they could trust me. Anything less, and we would have died in our first op.

Ch. 10

They dropped us 10 clicks away from our destination, a warehouse in U.S. occupied France. The French had decided to give the Americans a little leash. We were determined to persuade them otherwise. Our mission was to blow up the warehouse. A scheduled protest was going to be held at 13 hundred, and that was our window. The span of the protest. All was normal for the first bit. The second bit would probably make the biggest man you know flee.

The Patriots, or nicknames for Americans, because, technically, some of us were American, had brought over a bioweapon. They bombed the protesters with one of them. It was a green cloud, and unusual things happened.

"Filters, now," I whispered into the Team Frequency. Wirs as all four turned on, then silence as the stabilized. We walked through the stretch in the forest. The protesters where all down. And then they got back up and stumbled around. You can all guess what happened. We couldn't.

Andrew, who was especially freeked, said, "What the F*** is going on?"

"Relax. Breath. Safeties’ off. Observe." The first unfortunate victim didn't know what hit him. He was walking toward the door. In unison, the pack groaned, and shuffled towards him. He was fumbling keys when the first one bit him. Feel around your neck. You feel the muscle going from your shoulder to your neck? He was bit right where it connects to the neck. I realize that there may be children in the audience, so I won't say more.

After this, they noticed us trying to climb the roof. I can't think of anything scarier than a French zombie mob, when your backs to a wall. It was day- I had little, if any, magic.

Xavier screamed, "Tango! Tango!" at the same time I ordered, "Fire! FIRE!" We focused on different targets, to maximize effectiveness. Knife and Avery had grenades, and used them. After ten minutes, we had halved the crowd.

"Claymores!" We covered Kim as she set her claymores. One zombie jumped on her. His head exploded as a .44 millimeter slug penetrated 3 of the undead. Kim retreated; her suit was fully intact. "Up the latters! Go go go!" Kim, then Avery, then Knife went up. They fired in their relatively safe position. I knew if I tried, I was dead. "Complete the mission! I'll meet you at the LZ. You have one hour."

Kim, "But sir-"

"That's an order!"

______________________________________________________________________________

I could feel the moon coming. The zombies had broken into the surrounding villas, strengthening their ranks. I was now officially 3 hours late. How I had survived was a miracle. I had run out of ammo after the first hour. Grenades were gone within 30 minutes of that. But there is one toy I haven't told you about. Each soldier gets training in at least one close-ranged, or 'medieval' weapon. Upon completion of the course, you are given the weapon. I un-strapped my spear quickly. Never try this at home. A strange feeling came over me. I was calm, which was usual; this was my usual response to facing death. I was also filled with pure, persistent, berserk, rage. Similar to Viking berserk.

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE AND DIE AGAIN!" I laughed crazily. Before long, I had a pile. One was a soldier with a grenade belt. I can't tell you why I ignored it. I was berserk. "HAHAHA! Is THAT all you got?" I ask after I had crescent kicked a zombies head of and slashed off another one. It was a full 10 minutes before I realized that I had done it. I had survived. And then I looked at my mission clock, and cursed the tenacity of zombies.

Ch. 11

The LZ was predictably empty. I encountered a few more zombies. They never stood a chance. Night time was my time, and my spear was reinforced with magic. I couldn't break the thing without trying. Extremely hard. My rage had died down now that I was out of immediate mortal danger. Weakness and exhaustion began to take its toll. By the time I made it to the LZ, I was limping under the weight of my gear. I absorbed a little bit of moon energy, and steadied myself. I took a moment to wipe the gore off my visor. The guys at base where gunna have a time deciphering my mission log. If I made it.

In the clearing was an ATV, in Midnight Black. It had saddle bags, with more ammo, and a place to store my gear. As soon as I had packed, the effects of the night kicked in full force. I about collapsed on the off-road vehicle. I forced myself to drive. I was wary of any humanoid being, and had my pistol ready at all times. Base was a good 200 miles; best get moving.

The ATV had a good 30 miles to the gallon, on a 6 gallon tank. It was full, with another gallon in a fuel can. Enough to get me there. If the op was anything to go by, then I getting back was a cake-walk. A chopper came by. I sniped the over-zealous pilot with my pistol when he came to close. A tank ambushed me; the mysterious new metal was found in the exploded hull the next day. A hunter-killer team they got hunted down prematurely. The most threatening obstacle was when they sent another mage at me.

He was a necromancer. I thought they had bio-nuked another population. The problem was that there were only ten of them. 6 shots and a few swipes later, and they were, dead. Again. Except they got back up. Again. And Again. Until I chopped them into unrecognizable pieces. And then fresh ones came. I heard a whisper off metal leaving a sheath and slashed behind me. The now headless knife holder fell to the ground. Dead. I gave him a coup-de'-grace. And then hauled a** out of there.

Traumatized? About 5 stages past that. Shell-shocked? The guys said when I hit our base, my eyes where glazed over, and I didn't respond to a single word. I just collapsed at the doorstep. My unit came to visit me at the hospital. The first visit, they were all wearing dress fatigues. They all looked like they'd seen a ghost solidify and return.

"Attention!" says Knife. They all salute.

"None of that. I'm in a freakin' bed, and I don't need a bunch of kiss-a** suckin' up to me."

They all smiled. "That was... one h***ofa escape, sir." says Kim.

"And entrance," comments Avery.

"You got something worth comin' home for, you come home." As I say this, I look each of them in the eyes. They all understood. They knew what I didn't; Cassandra had been in here every day I was out. I had been out for three days. "We're on leave until I recover. Relax, stay in shape, and find something worth comin' back to." They all nod. Much to my surprise they saluted, and left. The door opened, but took to long to close. I looked over to see Zeke, Jess, and Cassandra file in. "Is there a Sam Wake Up Committee? I'm flattered, but I thought you" I pointed at Jess, "And you," I pointed at Zeke, "Had a mission, and you," I pointed at Cassandra, "Where in the tech department." They all shake thiee heads.

"You've been out 3 days. Our op's over," replies Jess.

"They promoted me to Ops Center Overlord 1. That means you get to listen to my cheery voice telling you what to do again." replies Cassandra.

"3 DAYS! Next, I'll wake up and it's 2050!" I try to get up, but a 3 man tackle keeps me down.

"Easy! You got time. Devon may want to send you to the East Coast, but the rest of us want you alive." says Zeke. And then, we talked.

Ch. 12

It was a good week after the... incident that I fully recovered physically. It's hard to not focus during combat; it's hard to forget it afterwards. I was cleared to walk around the areas close to base, and, most of the time I did. Isn't amazing how many things can happen to one person? Even if he or she is different.

I was becoming really into MCR, especially Sing. This, of course, means nothing to you, so, I'll say, mmmm, about week 3 of being back on my feet. I had become to know the area well. Really well. So when I fell through a hole, I was significantly surprised. Notice I said hole. I would have said pit-fall if it was a trap, so relax. This part is, well, decidedly less exciting, if fighting's what you want.

The hole I fell through deposited me on the rocky, gray floor of a cave. Shocked? You shouldn't be. Not yet.

What were truly amazing were the walls. They were walls of solid crystals. Crystals that were changing colors! It was beautiful, awe-inspiring, and indescribable. It's the kind of sight you have to touch. It's so mesmerizing, you just can't stop it. And as soon as I touched it, the hole wall changed into a solid color. Amazing? It changed into neon green that completely and utterly reflected my awe. If that wouldn't make you gasp and pull your hand back, you've got nerves of steel. I don't.

"Ahh!" I screamed, jumping back. And the walls went back to multi-colored. That started a touching spree, which I don't care to share. It was personal.

I followed the cave to a drop-out. Finding no crossroads, and, yes, I had a rope, I staked my rope to the entrance and rappelled down.

Ch. 13

The trip down, while dark, was un-eventful, and rather dull. It was basically straight down, and long! The whole descent must've taken a full 30 minutes! I was literally checking my e-mail from my visor when I unexpectedly hit the bottom of the tunnel. It smelled like most dark place which is to say, it smelled like a damp compost pile. It's actually not so bad, once you get used to it. I began to see looming stalactite figures as I moved on. Wisp here and there of fog. I heard the patter of a nearby stream making its way through what I was guessing to be a rather large cavern. I've gotten really good at guessing. It was a small(er) cavern, with a silver hint on the rocks. It almost reminded me of moonlight, and that helped me relax. The problem that negated the relaxing was that it was furnished. Like, someone was expecting someone else. There were also sighns of the modern age; a desktop, T.V., and cable box where set off to the side. And then, out of a side cavern, came a silver scaled girl. What I did next was very, very rude.

"... I am asleep, and now dragons have come back as girls, there's a cave of color-changing stone, and now I'm going to die a horrible, fiery death."

The girl took it well. "Oh Sam, you were always a comedian," she laughed. I gave her a blank-eyed stare. She said, "Now Sam, I gave your mom SPECIFIC instructions to teach you not to stare. Especially at your patron."

"My patron is dead. She died when some foolish ***** drove his R.V. into her house, which hit a magical bomb, which blew up Mount Washington."

"And I thank you for the wonderful cookies you baked me. I never thought you could cook venison into a cookie before." This made me both blush, and grow bug-eyed.

"You survived, and never told me?" I was absolutely offended. I knew this girl, or, should I say, Dragon Changeling, "Do you know how miserable I was? I almost dropped out! I lost most of my friends! I even tried to speak to your spirit!"

She smiled a sad smile, "America was dragon-bias before they were killing mages. Eventually the Secret Service found me. It was safer for both of us to have them think me dead. Now take of that rubbish suit! Such fakery I will not have on my followers."

I gaped,"Uhhh, you gunna turn around?"

She blushed,"Uhem! There is a changing room in the second tunnel to the left, which you will find your new birthdays present." She was the only one of two people to remember, other than me. The second one suddenly chimed unto my helmet;

"Hey Sam, happy birthday! When you comin'- Holy s***."

The dragon flicked her ears, "Cassandra! I will not have you filling Sam's ears with such... words! Unless, of course, they fit the situation." She smiled at me, and there for, Cassandra, whom was watching from my Helm-cam.

"Silver! I-I thought you were dead! I even sent you some of my mom's Morning Glories for the funeral! I was AT the funeral! It was OPEN CASKET! HOW ARE YOU ALIVE! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"C, calm down. Breath. Silver says the SS where onto her."

"... Did you just call me 'C'?"

"... Noooooooooooooo...."

"I kinda like it... Hmm... 'Hey, 'sup C?" I could tell she was smiling.

Silver was eyeing me with something suspiciously like smug knowing. I quickly flicked mute before the folowing statement,"Ooooooooooooooh, someone iz in wuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuub!!!"

"Shhhshhh!"

"Changing room's in the back star-struck."

I clicked the sound back on, "Thanks Silver."

Ch. 14

Now, when a dragon offers you a gift, you accept it. No matter what. Firstly, because it's usually useful. Secondly, because it's better than usual. Thirdly, because if you don't, they take it as an insult. So, when Silver told me she had gotten me a birthday present, a rush of different feelings pulsed through me. Excitement, fear, confusion, and elation where the heaviest. So, when I got there, to find a robe, cape, and head-set, which all seemed to be glowing, yes, confusion and fear pushed ahead of the better emotions. But, she had told me to use it, so I began to strip down and put it on. They were light-weight, which was nice.

"That's the first part of your new gear," came Silver's voice from behind me. I jumped, obviously, because I enjoy privacy. "Here," she says, throwing some bracers and leg plates at me. I caught them, barely. "Your other armor restricts your movement, and hampers your power. Neither are helpful to you. Put those on." I raised my eyebrows at her, and did as she told me. They fit perfectly, and then something really weird happened. I felt... an emotion I can't describe flow through my body, and watched as the armor flowed over the robes, over my head, eventually covering my body. The armor in front of my face cleared into a visor, and I could see silver holding up a mirror. I looked..... impressive. The armor was silver, in a dragon-scale pattern so small; it looked like my movements turned me into a liquid. My helmet was also silver, with a reflective visor. Where the arm and leg braces where, there where now hardened dragon scales. Silver frowned,"Hmmmm, there's something missing.... Ahh, yes." And then she handed me a spear, with a strange symbol on it. The spear head was also dragon-scale, and it was shimmering. When I grabbed it, it felt, well, perfect. I gave a test thrust at a clothes rack. A silverish-blueish light flew off the tip, sending he rack flying.

"I didn't, actually, mean to do that..." I said, sheepishly. She waved away my comment, then handed me another weapon. A silver Python.

"It's my last gift to you," she said, almost a little bit regretful. "This comes with a little bit of a catch..."

"I'm listening," I said. She took her hands off the hilt. On it was a symbol. Her personal symbol. Which meant...

"Me? You want... me? But, there are other, better choices! How can I be worthy to be your champion! I'm barely-"

"A general of the Aliance of Mages, leader of the Wolves, who single handedly survived a pack of zombies, the American Government, and who has made choices saving others’ lives, even if they seemed to be self-********. You are worthy, it's not a question. The question is do you except?"

Cassandra's voice came over my helmet com, "Command has cleared you. You may do whatever you choose."

"... Yes, my lady, I will be your champion. It is my honor to serve you."

"Oh, and I have something for Cassy to."

You could almost hear Cassandra blush,"Uhh, Silver, I don't much care for that name."

Silver grinned at me, and handed me the Python, along with a a black USP .45. I heard a gasp, and saw Silver's symbol on this too. A glint of humor hit her eyes, along with playful humor, “Cassandra, do you promise to keep Sam safe? That you will stay with him to the end?"

A hologram blinked off to the side, which then solidified, and a very confused Cassandra fell into my arms. I grinned, my visor becoming clear, "Teleportation, Silver?"

She smiled and said nothing. Cassandra replied to affor mentioned question, "I do."

"Then you are to be partners, with the same goals, and the same mission. "I gave Cassandra her gun. Silver gave her a black knife, and then they disappeared to another changing room.

Ch. 15

A dragon's will is a dragon's way. And so, partners we were, are, and forever will be. I was ecstatic and afraid to show it. I am a shy fool. In all the time I've had with Cass up to this point, I think I've asked her on a date once. It was an epic fail. Back at the academy, romantic's had to choices, the local movie, or the college diner. The movie was lame, I cringed at every cheesy joke, and I had a bitter taste in my mouth. It wasn't from the popcorn. So, unless you consider our time on the run a date, our relationship seemed one sided to me. And here was Silver, practically giving us a battle marriage. I wonder sometimes about her sanity.

We had matching outfits, except hers was black. Silver said that color matters when casting. I told her that I thought that was inaccurate.

"Sam, that's what Gandolph said right before he died and went white."

"In a boo-"

"The book was based off a middle eastern event about 3 centeries ago."

"Ohh." She gave me a 'weirdo' look. I tryed to shrug it off. We were also limited to the colors of scales she had, and, like I said, dragons aren't common. She also gave us a warning; "You haven't heard about it yet, but the Eagles bio-bombed most of Germany, the excuse being that the German's had tried to nuke America. It's total b-s, but, they got a way with words. There was something about Weapons of Mass Destruction, or something, too. Anyway, Germany is now zombified, and the country is close to this one, so watch your selves."

"Yes Silver," said the minions to the summoner.

"Ohh, and Sam?"

"Yes Silver?"

"Keep your heart close, and your instincts closer." And then she left, leaving a few silver motes behind, until finally, too blinked out of existence. And then it hit me, the zombies were back.

Ch 16

Cass looked like a black Zero-Suit Sammus, with a Usp .45 and a Sai. A Sai is a three-pronged, knife type object. It's what a stero-typical female ninja uses, but with Google still alive, I'm sure you searched, and found out, what a Sai is. A Usp .45 is a Pistol. It's less powerful thana Python, with more ammo per clip. It's also faster to reload, and semi-automatic. A semi-automatic weapon fire as fast as you can pull the trigger. I still like a Python better.

Back on Cass; She was looking incredibly confused, and a little bit drowsy.

"Happy birthday Sam..."

"Uhh, thanks C," I replied. She gave a tired smile.

"Did she say Zombies?"

"Yah. America creates them when they bio-bomb places. They aren't incredibly hard to kill. They just come in numbers, and I have trouble thinking they can bite through Dragon-scales. What I AM afraid of is a zombified mage. That would be bad, if they still control their element." She remained silent. "Listen, we'd better get back to base, before they worry."

"Silver's very last gift to you. Welcome to base. Consider you and me a new unit of the Special Forces. We get our own base, all signed off by the top brass. Your unit and a few teckies should be here in a few hours or so."

"Oh. Well, I guess we got a few hours of alone-time. Wanna see what Silver keeps in her fridges?"

"Is that a pick-up line?"

"... Maybe."

"Do you prefer robes, or dragon scales?"

"Hmmm. Robes?"

"See you in a minute," she replies, and goes off to change. I hoped I wasn't grinning like an idiot.
Last edited by Dawnpath1 on Wed Jan 11, 2012 3:11 am, edited 1 time in total.
  





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Fri Nov 11, 2011 5:38 am
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Leahweird says...



This is a cool story, but it's skipping along too fast. You're jumping into the main plot before we really know whats going on. It think this is because you are telling not showing. I know there are times when the intent is to tell the background and then move into the actual sotry, but I think this would be more effecive if you started with a scene where (just as an example) Your protagonist is going about his life as a botanist and then the man comes and outs him as a moon mage. Just saying that this is what happened doesn't have near enough emotional impact.

On th other hand, I did start liking hi m just though his voice, it just needs that little bit of extra depth.
  





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Sat Nov 12, 2011 2:27 am
Dawnpath1 says...



I started writing this about 5-6 months ago. My writing style changed a litle, so I told myself that I wouldn't change anything I'd already writen. (Minus spell check, etc.) That was one of the things I considerd doing. But, I don't know much about botany, and, well, I don't have all that much time. Each chapter you see was probably writen in under 30 mins. To my eternal shame.
  





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Sat Nov 12, 2011 2:36 am
Leahweird says...



Sometimes it's better to just get things down. You can always go back to it later. I would just like to see him messing about in a garden or something and be inturrupted by the man. It sounded like a cool scene.
  





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Sat Nov 12, 2011 2:40 am
Dawnpath1 says...



I started writing this about 5-6 months ago. My writing style changed a litle, so I told myself that I wouldn't change anything I'd already writen. (Minus spell check, etc.) That was one of the things I considerd doing. But, I don't know much about botany, and, well, I don't have all that much time. Each chapter you see was probably writen in under 30 mins. To my eternal shame.
  





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Sat Nov 12, 2011 2:42 am
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Dawnpath1 says...



I havetrouble with this = I am new. Didn't mean to repeat that....) Well. I Sam's current position, he would probably hamstring the dude, and knock him out, then restrain him, and ask for answers...
  





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Wed Jan 11, 2012 3:12 am
Dawnpath1 says...



~Updated~
  








There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.
— J.K. Rowling