Call to Octoron - Part I - Surrack
The Moons of Octoron shimmered in the night sky above the A’doras meeting hall.
The craggy lip of a deep chasm ran through the middle of the open space, backdropped against a starry night. The exuded pure power that rested upon the wooden building and echoed within the meeting.
A group of them stood in the center of the semi-circle gathered around the door to the Great Hall. Three commoners dressed in white, common soldiers, and a rather scrawny fellow that must have been a famed warrior. The tallest standing at a little over six feet, the oddest looking of them all stood out the most from the other three. Staring down the blade of a heavy sword gripped in the hand.
But it wasn’t his sword that attracted the most attention from the crowd that had gathered around the entry. It was the armor that was a full suit of steel, a gleaming white that sparkled and shined in the light of the moon. However, the armor was almost entirely naked, nothing but a few steel scales near the shoulders of the armor, a small strip on the chest, and the various tools of a scythe strapped to the back.
Rift Ports, eight in all, ripped themselves into existence with blinding radiance. Serfs and attendants stood at the ready to meet the Representatives as they arrived.
At once, five mighty Beings broke the flat plane of the rifts. The wormholes wobbled and sparked behind each one before shrinking to nothing. “Something isn’t right,” Za’Sahar kicked at the ground with a cloven hoof, its three heads twitching and inspecting everything around them.
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong,” Surrack grit his massive fangs, “They never have the feast prepared when we arrive.”
“No, you dimwitted troglodyte,” Za’Sahar cast their stave in the direction of the three empty Rift Portal mounts, “We are not whole in this hour of need.”
Thrama enveloped himself in his leathery wings and kneeled, “Perhaps we are too late to save our companions?” His voice bubbled and popped as he spoke. Despite the cold night and the winter breeze that was almost cutting through his flesh, the man stood there before the crowd with that wide toothy grin on his face and a smirk on his lips.
An echo of laughter could be heard in the crowd. Ghildel glided across the worn stones of the meeting ground, her tail rattling as she slithered, “I sense there is still time but not much.” She looked back at the representatives of the Galanos Guilds, “We do not have time for pleasantries and feasts if we are to prevent catastrophe.”
Mantel stood by her side, his scales shimmered in the fires of the meeting hall, “Come Surrack, be the vanguard. The rest of us must gather our Mora before entering battle.”
Surrack snarled and bound past the others, “The Demon shall feast tonight!” His cackling laughter scared away several skittering attendants.
A Rift tore open in front of the Marthian, “I’ll try to save some for the rest of you!” Surrack dove into the rift with a howl. The world around him exploded into a dizzying array of colors, shapes, and fractals. All melting and blending before exploding into new patterns that were not possible in the physical realm. Surrack felt the immensity of the universe around him reduced to the size of a raisin and expanded out to impossible size over and over again. The trip was over in a matter of blinks.
Rhax’s had been an industrial powerhouse on a galactic scale. The Garnan’s might at the grindstone and forge and foundry was known and sought after in every corner of the Universe. Surrack’s weapons, along with all the equipment the Companions used were created and imbued with Mora right here. What Surrack found when he was flung from the Rift Portal was no wonderland of technological might but a nightmare of twisted metal and urban decay. The great enemy, the endless one, the formless thing from beyond the edge of reality: The Anomaly had completed shattered the planet. Surrack had seen this happen a hundred times on a hundred worlds and never got used to the sight of reality itself being torn asunder.
The Demon in Surrack’s Soul Cage raged against its prison as it felt the blood lust rise in Surrack’s mind. The Anomaly had done its monstrous work here. The world was twisted and torn. The dead were everywhere, fused with stone and wood and metal into monstrous effigies of violent indifference to the rules of physical existence. “It is a Charnel house,” Surrack spat.
Movement from the corner of his eyes, Surrack twisted around. A cluster of stone and metal shapes made in mockery of the humanoid shape approached him. Anomaly creations that served as a sort of foot troop to the cursed enemy. Surrack narrowed his eyes, inside each one were the twisted remains of a Garnan, their mouths locked open in eternal screams.
“Alright, you slag,” Surrack goaded the demon as it fought to be free, “I give you control, let me see what you got!” Surrack mentally opened the Soul Cage and instantly felt the fire of a thousand suns engulf his whole being. His flesh and muscle and armor burned away revealing a flaming frame of Skeletal horror. Flames engulfed the Skeleton, which took a hunched, animalistic, defensive posture. The Demon was in control.
“Weakling Surrack can’t take on a little group of Stone Terrors?” The Demon cackled, “Let Metastophales prove to you who is the superior one!” Flaming skeletal horror charged forward, a war cry on its incorporeal lips. The first Stone Terror didn’t even try to brace against the attack. Surrack’s possessed frame smashed into it with demonic might, shattering its warped body with a shoulder charge. The remnants of flesh inside the monster burned away as the rock and metal of its frame singed against Surrack’s ethereal flames. A second Terror flanked Surrack, the Companion swung a flaming backhand at the “head” of the creature, knocking it back into two more.
Remember, Surrack spoke from deep in his possessed mind, we are here to buy time, nothing more.
“Let me have my fun, Mortal!” Metastophales bellowed as he ripped another Terror apart with flaming fists.
More of the Stone Terrors crawled from the twisted wreckage that surrounded Surrack/Metastophales. “Good, more to kill!” the demon hissed.
Slashing and hitting and kicking, the Demon tore at the endless stream of monsters that came at it. Each one he felled in fiery, spectacular, motion was replaced by two, which were replaced by six, and so on. The crowd of beasts pressed in on all sides. The Demon and Surrack could feel the Mora binding him to this form being sucked away.
It’s time, Surrack summoned his mental strength deep inside his mind, the Demon knew it as well. Lest he wanted to be cast back into the void, it was the Soul Cage for him. “One more Act,” The Demon slammed its flaming skeletal fist into the ground, drawing every bit of Mora left in the vicinity to itself. The Terrors crowded in, ten deep on all sides, as the Demon prepared its sign-off, “That’s right, just a little closer” As the closest Terror reached out with a jagged length of pipe, the demon howled and released the stored up energy he had pulled out of the world. A wave of blue flame blasted out in every direction, disintegrating Monster and ruin alike. As the wave dissipated, Surrack found himself returned once more to his mortal coil. His muscle and sinew and weapons and armor had all reformed. The Demon, satiated for the moment, rested in his Soul Cage. The blast left a blackened space the span of two hundred paces in every direction. The Terrors kept their distance, gathering outside of the range of any more potential blasts.
Surrack stood to his full height and pulled a small vial from his belt. EMERGENCY ONLY was scrawled across its surface in his people’s language. Surrack bit into the vial. His entire body jolted as the stored Mora coursed through his body.
“That’s the stuff!” He screamed as manifested armor plates coated his entire body. A massive spear materialized in his hands. This was his fight now.
The Terrors remained far away. “Come on!” Surrack goaded, “Come at me!” Still nothing from the horde. The ground stirred. Rubble shook and something great and massive thudded closer. To the north, the horde parted ways, one of the towering effigies of flesh and stone, clad in scrap metal armor and wielding a battered, makeshift blade strode toward Surrack. The Marthian took in the sight and he smiled.
A wind blew between the two. Surrack growled low and deep before charging forward, his spear high above his head. The effigy beast stood its ground as Surrack ran pell-mell at the thing. Surrack was a handful of leaping bounds from what accounted for as its legs when one of them shot forward, hitting Surrack square in the chest with its full weight. Surrack’s bellowing war cry ended with a breathless yipe as he was knocked back dozens of paces, landing in a pile.
Deep inside, from its Soul Cage, the Demon laughed.
“That was fun,” Surrack braced himself with his spear and stood up. He charged forward again, this time pulling another vial from his belt (this one labeled as ‘just in case’) and smashed it in his face. The surge of Mora increased the Marthian’s speed but more importantly allowed him to manifest a tower shield that bolted itself to the bracer on his left arm. The monster’s leg shot out once more, Surrack rolled to left, using his shield as a pad, he launched himself back up and cut at the creature’s leg as it passed by him. Chunks of masonry and fused flesh flew away as the unbreakable spear tip passed through the limb. The beast made no noise save the grinding and scraping noise of its crushing and moving form shifting to bring the sword to bear.
Surrack slammed his shield down as the sword swiped low towards him. With a deafening clang, the sword shattered against the braced shield. The force of the impact blew Surrack backward. His shield now heavily dented, the Companion dropped it and took the spear in both hands. The Creature raised its fists high above Surrack who had begun running at the beast again. He overhanded the spear and rolled left just as the fists slammed into the ground, spraying Surrack with rock and dirt. Surrack raised his left hand in a guiding motion. He closed one eye, his tongue stuck out reflexively. With a great yell, Surrack launched the spear straight into the head of the beast. The spear cracked open rock and metal, piercing the twisted flesh inside. The effigy beast shuttered and fell apart in a pile of oozing blood and broken masonry.
Out of breath and feeling the effect of several shattered bones, Surrack limped to the top of the destroyed creature and pulled his Spear free. Most of his armor was rent and the unbreakable spear tip was broken clean in half. The Horde had watched it all in silence.
“That the absolute best you got?” Surrack shouted breathlessly, “Maybe you can twist an entire continent into one big foe, maybe that will be enough!” Just keep buying time, he told himself. The horde stepped forward as one. Step after step, they gained speed. Surrack knew they would be on him in a matter of moments. He gripped the spear and stared down the closest Terror to him. The Anomaly, if it had such a thing as memory, would remember him after this.
One after another, four Rift Portals burst into existence. Arrows of pure energy, walls of flame, and manifested objects of pure dark matter all shot from the rifts in unison, slaying dozens of Terrors in a blink of an eye. At last, the other Companions emerged wielding their Mora-given powers. Surrack laughed in mad rage as he found his second wind and charged forward. The day would be theirs!