Reserved For Act II scene v - Heroes' Fall
Twisted Fate took his station wagon and hid in the deep forests of Charon's Isle, ways outside of Charon's Port. He passed most of the day with games of solitare and napping in his wagon, awaking to fish for his lunch. He stayed away from the decaying body of the man they recovered; despite haivng seen death many times in his life, he was simply uncomfortable with what he was going to witness tonight. Even though it was covered and laid down under a tree, it reeked.
As the sun began to set, Fate was throwing steel cards into a tree, keeping his aim razor sharp and his nervousness to a minimum. He fumbled with his last card, seeing his shadow become longer.
The animals of the forest began to fall into eerie silence, and several birds overhead fell to the ground in deep slumber. Every day since they met has been like this; it was like being underwater, the air itself thick and heavy, breathing becoming a deep labor. Fate couldn't tell whether he was growing accustomed to the overwhelming magic emanating from the girl, or if he was slowly succumbing to it.
He opened the floor door in the wagon, to reveal a black coffin. He opened it as the light of the world vanished, and therin lay Lisa, awake and fully aware.
"Had a nice beauty sleep, mon petit?" He asked, extending his hand to help her out of the macabre resting place, and out of the wagon.
"Twas fair.." she said, as they walked towards the corpse. The flies and other vermin that began eating away at it all scattered, sensing a terrible power encroaching.
The girl knelt beside the dead man, and buried her teeth deep into the carrion- Fate looked away. within moments, the dead man became one of the unliving; not a vampire like Lisa, but a Ghoul. Weaker, but still stronger and faster than normal humans, and a bite that spread the contagion of undeath.
The ghoulish creature struggled momentarily, driven to a frenzied hunger as it sensed Fate's living flesh nearby. Lisa uttered some fell phrase into its ear, and it became docile and compliant.
"Lead me to where it is." She commanded of it, and their eyes glowed of the same fell green energies.
Under the cover of a moonless night, The ghoulish creature led Fate and Lisa to a cliff overlooking a hidden cove where a large slaver camp was established. In one corner of the beach camp were the holding pens, where demacian and Noxian refugees were being kept prisoner... roughly two hundred to three hundred.
"So... what's the plan? Put them to sleep? Free the prisoners? Take their ship?" He summed up what seemed a logical course of action.
"I...I must apologize, but we now must have sorrowful parting, master of cards." Twisted Fate did not expect that from the girl.
"What?" He could never comprehend the vampiress's motives.
"You are an honorable gentleman, Fate, and you possess morals which shall detest the acts I must perform henceforth..." she continued her dramatic soliloque, putting Fate even more at unease.
"Wait Lisa, what are you saying? You don't want me along anymore?" He understood what she said, but he wanted to know why.
"I can no longer guarantee thee thy life nor limb. My mission mandates me walk this road alone... Take the carriage and gold, and find thyne Card of Destiny, as you originally intended." She began to walk away with her servant, taking a narrow dirt road that woud lead to the rear of the camp.
"Lisa, tell me what you're planning to do!" Twisted fate dared to take Lisa by the wrist, who responded with a single word that Fate couldn't defend against, even when he knew it.
"Sleep." The Aura of somnolence around Lisa seemed to grow in strength, to the point it overcomes Fate's will. He slowly sat down against one of the wagon's wheels, and fell into catatonic slumber.
"I am sorry, dearest Fate, but since before I met you, we were not meant to be." Though she wished to, Lisa could not cry. She followed her servant as it led her down into the slaver's camp.
* * *
"Let us out of here! Are you fools unafraid of the retribution of our king???" A young Demacian soldier in his solitary cell protested, continually shaking the bars. this one had dark brown hair, a young chiseled face, and a muscular body that was plain for all to see, as his arms and armor were stripped from him, leaving only his loincloth.
A holding pen holding dozens of Demacian citizens and a handful of undressed soldiers was nearby. A group of slaver-pirates were sitting close by acting as guards, now irritated at the young man's constant shouting. They doused him with a bucket of water, and ridiculed him.
"Ah Shut it, Demacian. Your army, your king has sent no response to our ransom... We'll just leave you to rot in there to conserve ammunition. HAHAHA!" The sentry group laughed out loud. They inspected the fine arms and armor they had collected in the ambush- the Demacians were known never to surrender, so a few sleeping bombs took away that choice. They argued over who would claim a finely crafted officer's broadsword.
"You honorless curs! You do not even possess the honor to fight fairly! When my brother returns..." He shouted the only warning he could think of, shaking his fist through the cages.
"Hoho! the pup has quite the bark. Boy, that fool brother you call the Might of Demacia ain't coming back for you- ain't coming back at all. Going into no man's land, he'll be turned into some zombie just like all those others!" they burst out in laughter again. Some of these pirates were cowardly deserters from Garen's battalion; such mongrels dared to spread tales of shame against thier brothers, the young soldier thought.
"No... He will..." He tried to incite them again, but The pirates had chosen to ignore him now.
"Gerard... Garen wouldn't want to see you like this. Rest boy, and pray for salvation. That is all we have left." From the main holding pen an older Demacian soldier calmed the young officer.
As the bottles of rum began to dry out, one of the guards stood up to call a companion. "Oy, Caleb! Bring another bottle of rum! Caleb?" He looked around and saw one of his fellows gone.
"Caleb went to take a piss, Vann." A heavily bearded, older pirate said. He was lying on his back, nearly ready to pass out.
"Bah..." Vann sat back down, when he heard something from the bushes. He turned to see his friend, Caleb hunched over, and moaning something.
"Caleb? what's wrong with you man?" He asked, staggering as he held the man's shoulder. He jabbed his finger into the man's chest, eager to mouth him off.
"Yah good for nothin'...AAAAAAAAAH!" Vann erupted into screams of pain, as Caleb had sunk his jaw deeply into Vann's throat, and tearing it open. Blood gushed obsenely like a fountain. The other pirates drew their hextech revolvers and rifles, and unleashed a hail of lead into the treacherous dog. He collapsed from the sheer damage inflicted upon him.
"What... what the hell was that? Did Caleb just take a bite out of old Vann?" the old pirate said, sobering up with a handful of water in the face. He walked over to Vann's dead form- which promptly rose up and viciously attacked him in the same manner. The sentries were now shaking in their boots, as about a dozen more of their companions emerged from the dimly lit surroundings. All of them had that feral visage now, and their clothes, hands and jaws were stained with blood. It was a nightmare for the pirates.
Gerard, the Demacian soldiers and civilians, and even the quiet Noxians were held in abject horror as all around them their captors were being devoured and turned. Initially the Noxians thought it was a rescue, but as they spoke amongst themselves, they understood the situation much better than the Demacians.
The ghouls finished their grim work, and the pirates were now all turned. A young woman in a black dress emerged, the Ghouls reverently bowing at her arrival. Gerard's fiery tongue was connected to his heart as he spoke.
"MONSTER! If you have come for us, know that we will never align with undead!" He crossed his arms and stood at attention in defiance.
"Who art you to speak on behalf of thy people, soldier of Jarvan?" Lisa laid a hand of one of the bars of his cage, prompting the man to take a step back- this girl seemed to be surrounded by an invisible wall of force.
"I am Gerard, Captain of the 501st Legion of Demacia, and Brother to Garen, our army's greatest warrior! One day I shall be as great as him!" He proclaimed his title and familial ties with an irritating pride that could only belong to Demacians. That was a fatal mistake.
"Well Gerard... A soldier honorable as thou would stop at nothing, mayhap, to save his kingdom?"
"Of course, undead harlot! I will snap my own neck here and now before... before... ugh...sorcery..." Lisa drove her enchantment deeply, heavily and repeatedly into this man's psyche- it was a small and narrow place, but incredibly difficult to penetrate. She alternated between sleep, fear, pain and pleasure to peel away the layers of his mind. Not even a hard-headed Demacian commander could withstand such an assault.
"For my country... I will do whatever..." He knelt down and begged for Lisa to stop.
"Converse with me Gerard... young as thou art, art thou a chaste and pure defender of thyne kingdom?" The question frightened the young man, but his lips were no longer his.
"Why would you want to know... Yes I'm still a virgin..." His mind was quickly being taken form him, and his youthful thinking led him to believe his body would be taken by this wild and dangerous beauty as well.
"I need someone to lead these Ghouls to Pluton, the Noxian resettlement island. and I need a virgin of the opposite gender to become my spawn." Lisa took the keys from the dead pirate guard and opened Gerard's cell. She slowly walked inside, completely calm and collected for what was to come.
"No... don't... do this...I refuse!" He wrestled with the sinister hand caressing his mind, coiling at the undead hand stroking his face, then embracing him with an inescapable grip.
"Unfortunately, Gerard the choice is not thyne to make. Do not worry, I will not ask you to grant your heart to me- only thy face and thy name." She dug her fangs into the man's throat, and quickly drained him of blood. He gasped and groaned as his life, his will was being taken from him.
While the deed was done, she passed the key to one of the Ghouls to unlock the large gates. The mindless beasts rushed into the slave pen. The prisoners ran andcowered against the cages. The demacian soldiers, ever the brave fools, formed a battle line and fought with bare fists and bodies. They would be the first to turn, and eventually would become murderers of their own people.
This was Gerard's last living vision.
The defenseless prisoners begged and pleaded for mercy, but the undead monsters knew of none. Men, women and children, Demacian and Noxian screamed an unholy chorus of pain and anguish, between the sound of limbs broken, skulls cracked open, bodies being torn apart and entrails being glutted upon. Before the sun would rise, there would not be a single living soul left at the camp.
* * *
Twisted Fate was on his feet and running towards the cliff the moment he awoke, but saw only bloodstains and burnt out fire pits down at the camp- the Pirate ship had left shore for who knows where, and the Coffin in the wagon was also taken. Fate cursed again and again, inserting Lisa's name between breathes. striking the ground with his fists proved futile in relieving the sense of betrayal and responsibility weighing down on him.
He dared to think Lisa couldn't do this... but Lisa was undead, and could never truly be trusted. She must have used some kind of subtle magic to make him trust her. Or perhaps he was simply just another foolish man she played.
Fate could only sit down on a tree stump, take out a cigar, and wonder about his next course of action.
He would not have to think for long though, as he sensed his Card of Destiny being drawn. A thrum of arcane energies materialized a magical portal beside him. A warrior clad in azure Kinkou battle dress emerged.
Shen, The Eye of Twilight, and one of a few men Fate has taught to use the cards, collapsed onto the grass covered in terrible wounds- large claws had left terrible gashes in his body- his right arm was dangling by skin and tendons, a massive maw having nearly torn it off. His body was riddled with bony vorpal spines that could have came only from Cho'gath. He was bleeding profusely- only an iron will kept him alive.
"Garen's army.. has been defeated... we must return to the Shadow Isles... The horrors of the Void are heading there." he said, before passing out. In his hand were the Cards of Destiny, finally finding their way to their master.