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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Logar, the warchief of his tribe, readies the ceremony to be crowned officially as the New King of Mountains.

[!]Some effort was lost in the making of this chapter. It may be redone somewhere in the future.[!]

[!!] As of 7/2/2017, the story is suspended. I seriously apologize! I have no time in my current schedule to complete chapters at the rate when the story first came out. I'll upload one more chapter to come within this month for sure, but don't expect more for some time. Sorry! [!!]

Chapter 5 (v.1) - AYTHERIUS Goliath

Submitted: June 19, 2017

Reads: 369

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Submitted: June 19, 2017



Logan sat at his throne and laughed. Women voraciously watched him. They were dressed scantily, as of the tribe's conduct since it began. Logan took a bite from a chunk of mutton. The guards in which defended him wore equipment similar to normal soldiers of regular kingdoms, while he himself wore simple tribalwear and a bear's head and hide on his head. Logan looks at his axe with glee. Today was the day in which he is crowned the New King of the Mountains. Both men and women were worshipping him a few steps below the throne. A feast was being prepared in the main room, with candles and braziers being lit for the occasion. Kegs of wine, mead, ale and a variety of drinks were being brought in. Expert slave cooks prepared meals on the table.

"Yes, yes. Good." Logan looked at the assortment of food and picked out the most appealing food item in terms of looks. He ate a slice of pie, but the flavor was interesting. "Who made this wonderful pie? I must know!"

One slave cook walked up with glee. "I did, your majesty!" Logan slammed his axe down from the skull to the pelvis through the chef.

"It was shit. Anyone else making shit will be killed," Logan spat the pie out disappointingly.

The rest of the slave chefs panicked and did a quick taste test on their foods.

"Who the fuck said you could eat? Kill them all and bring in the next bunch. The feast must be perfect for my crowning!" Logan ordered, while wiping blood off of his war axe. The steel battle axe had plenty of scars from the wear and tear of combat, but was well tended condition. The rest of the chefs were impaled by spears or smashed with clubs. Logan got up and walked to his treasure room. Gold piled to the ceiling, chests full of silver and copper were everywhere. Golden crowns, amulets, jewelry and all types of assortment were everywhere as far as the eye could see. Well made noble's clothing were cleaned and also placed along with the items. Logan gleefully smiled.



Carte held the wall of the cavern to guide the way, even though he could see clearly in the dark. Must be the amulet. In every intersection that he had encountered, he walked through the correct tunnel each time. A map coalesced in his mind. Patrols of tribe warriors made their way through the caverns. Shit, shit, shit! They're going to see me! Carte eyes turned all white. For some reason, Carte could not see, but he saw where the patrol was moving. A patrol of three tribesmen walk past Carte. Carte looked down and couldn't see himself, but saw his tracks through the vision. The path to War Chief Logar opened for Carte. Carte walked a few steps, but encountered another patrol. They spoke a language that was unknown to Carte. Carte felt adrenaline rushing through him as he did when he slaughtered the five strangers at the exit of Mount Iris. Carte's vision blurred, and the facial features of the tribesmen were no longer distinct to him. They all looked the same. Although Carte did not know what their language was, he understood everything they said for some reason. 

"Tirips niatnuom Siri a si ti, tihs!" One of the patrol warriors begun screaming. All three of them ran off, and Carte looked at himself. He reached for the Pathfinder's amulet, but found that it was no longer there. His vision reverted back to normal and he felt heavy again. He heard footsteps coming down his hall and readies Dragon's Tooth.

"Dlihc, diarfa eb ton od. I sense that you are cursed, young one. Yes, I speak your language." A shaman walked up gradually to Carte. Carte was still cautious and kept his spear pointed at the shaman. "Is that the Dragon's Tooth? I hope that is a fake one. The Old King would not be pleased, young one." The shaman moves his hands in a calm and alluring fashion. "Ah, so I see. That tattoo on your neck, it reminds me of the Old King's tattoo.  The amulet of the Pathfinders, was it? That will be all. I do not intervene with the god's businesses." The shaman walked down a dark corridor of the cavern. After some time, he disappears.

Carte followed the shaman down after he knew that he was out of hearing range of the shaman. The corridor ended with no where else to go, besides a flat wall. Carte tapped into the amulet and saw that there were no entry or secret doors beyond the wall. Carte continued to the king's feasting hall. Carte had finally arrived for his revenge. He took a deep breath and opened the doors.

Every tribes person was eating at the tables, but saw the stranger enter the king's feasting hall. Guards readied their clubs, bows and spears. Logar slammed the table and looked Carte directly in the eyes.

"You. You disturb the peace with your presence, warrior. Remove yourself." Logan stared into Carte's soul.

Carte felt a tint of fear, as if he was speaking to Soluto again. "You have a strange aura about you, King of the Mountains."

"I am no king, not until the feast is over. You interrupt the peace. Leave at once or you will be dealt with." Logan gripped his axe.

Carte closed his eyes and reopened them, but the effects did not occur as he had expected.



He appeared in the empty hall, with a crowd of corpses with the exception of a darkened figure and three larger figures behind it. Carte could not recognize any of them, and his amulet failed to grant him the powers to fight the shadow. Carte held his spear out in a manner to parry any attacks thrown at him.

"Valos, God of Time, grant me the powers to bend time to my will!" The figure shouted. Carte moved his eyes around. Everything in the room had turned grey, except for himself and the figure. The figure began rushing at him with an unknown weapon at accelerating speeds. Carte sluggishly moved his spear to cover the blow, but was not prepared for the force that had impacted him. Who the fuck is this guy?

"Your weapon, it did not break. You have stolen the Old King's weapon. It will be added to my collection of trophies when I am done with you." The figure replied. Carte's amulet sparked a few times, providing small boosts to accelerate him to the same speed as the figure, but barely enough to block his attacks.

"Soluto, grant me soldiers!" The figure shouts. Shadow beings climbed out of the floor, as if they have been revived. Their weapons were not distinctly recognized as any weapon in the world.

Carte did not know how to defeat a person such as that. "Ardas, grant me protection!" Carte screams. The figure takes a slash at Carte and cuts his chest open. Carte looks down at his beating heart. He felt no pain, but he could clearly see a few ribs and his heart.

"Hmm. How interesting. Ardas, revoke his blessings!" The figure rips at Carte again, but Carte barelys holds up. Carte's chest was burning now. Carte jabs Dragon's Tooth at the figure, but the blow glances off as if he had struck it with a twig. Carte continues an assault of polearm stabs at the figure.

"Soluto, revive the spirits of the dead." The darkened figure spoke slowly. Bodies from the dining table got up while holding metalware. Carte continued his assault and pierced the armor of the figure, but it showed no sensations. They were both at each other's throats. The distance was seriously reduced by the speed of the figure. What kind of fucking sorcery is this?! Carte locks the weapon of the figure, but a hand was reaching out of the figure. Carte was moving back as far as he could while maintaining weapon lock with the figure. The hand grabbed Carte's throat and begun choking him.

The voice of the figure had become distorted and mixed. "I am no longer a war chief, nor a king." The figure spoke. The hand erupting from the figure's chest ripped the amulet tattoo out of Carte. The amulet had formed back into what it originally was, rather than a tattoo. Carte bent down on his knees, unable to lift any muscles due to the wearing pain of his wounds. The shadows from earlier have finally crept up to Carte's position, and gradually ripped his skin apart with hooks, while the reanimated corpses stabbed him with forks and knives. Carte felt dead within.



Carte opened his eyes and found that he was kneeling in front of the King of the Mountains. His spear still maintained in front of him in a combat stance, but he felt like a statue. He could not move from fear. 

"I'll give you the first blow. Come on, stab me with Dragon's Tooth." Logan provoked, with his axe at his side.

I am sorry that I could not protect you.

Carte recognized that voice. "Ardas!" He shouted.

"Hmm? You seek the protection of a god? Coward." Logar said disappointingly. Carte's muscles felt cut. He could think of nothing. Carte was practically a walking corpse. Logar walked up and took Dragon's Tooth from Carte's hands and shouted in his face, "You waste my time!" Logar looked at Carte's amulet and took it off of his neck. "I know these artifacts. Accursed things, but powerful. Have you granted your soul to use this thing?" Logar walked circles around Carte, inspecting his physical shape. Everything froze and turned grey.

Carte heard a voice echoing in his mind.

I am Infernum, God of the Underworld, to you human, Hell. I can make you move again, but you must give me your soul and body.

What the fuck? This shit again?

I understand that you had a very odd experience over the course of the week. I can explain it all to you.

Go ahead.

All of your friends have perished on their trip. That will be all I say on that matter. The amulet in which you carried, the full name of it is 'The Pathfinder's Cursed Amulet, Diablo's Feet'. It is no ordinary artifact. Your Dragon's Tooth, it is real. In wraith vision, it is a serpent that bites at the soul of its victims. Give me control. You should know the phrase, considering that you've been in the spirit realm long enough.

I wish to make a pact with the devil. Give me the powers to defeat the King of the Mountains. I will give up my soul and body.

Your sacrifices do not amount to much, however I will grant you a brief duration of greater strength.

I'll take it. Deal.

Upon saying that final word, the grey hall boomed and resonated.

The pact has been concluded.

Upon finishing that statement, everything in the hall turned to color. Carte ran at Logan with lightning fast speed with his axe, and strikes him with the strength of a minotaur. Logan blocked the hit with his axe, but clearly sees that the axe head has been shattered for the majority. Logan twirled Dragon's Tooth and points it at Carte. Carte begun throwing punches at Logan, to miss at a foot away.

"Where'd you get this strength from? Almost like you'd fucked your luck with the devil. I'm still better than you." Logan jeered and jabbed several hits into Carte's already opened wounds. Carte could feel the wounds ripping even further, but continued his onslaught and barrage of blows at Logan. Carte's attack would only destroy his axe even further, but Logan retained his guard and swiped at open opportunities. Logan pierced into Carte's head and groin in a quick thrusts in successon, and battered his skull with the blunt end of the spear. Carte kneeled down from the damage sustained to his body. Logan continued cutting at his legs and weakening his leg tendons, while thrusting the spear blade parallel to Carte's stomach, effectively gutting him. Logan slashed the spear in a downard stroke, and Carte attempts to grab it, only to have his fingers cut off from the slash. "Still alive?" Logan looked at the walking corpse. "You should be dead by now." Logan thrusts the spear into his throat.

Carte's mind was still mentally destroyed. He stopped moving. He saw his own body get destroyed by the assault from the warlord. How come I can't do shit? Carte felt his body growing heavier by the second. Logan held the spear up to Carte's head and cut it off with a side stroke.



© Copyright 2018 Timothy T.. All rights reserved.


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