Shena, Naru, Esvia, Nadia, And Nya were walking along the hidden narrow jungle trail near the brink of sunset. The rain once again returning hoping to drown them in misery.
I don't know how you stand to live here. Said Shena shivering at the front as the waterfall above doused her in its mist. Rifle in hand as a crutch as she led the procession along the narrow cliffside trail.
Well it isn't called the rainforest for nothing. Chuckled Naru, following close behind her holding his green ore bow in hand with his fingers plucked to the string. He glanced behind every so often out nervous habit, as if fearing his family would be ripped away from him the moment he looked away. Esvia Followed closely behind her husband, guiding the two girls, who were growing sluggish and tired after hours of trekking. They had been walking all day. And were well beyond the
How much farther? Asked Shena. Slicing through thick jungle foliage obscuring the trail with her sea saber for them to keep going. They had been walking all day without reprise.
It's not much farther. Assured Naru. Watching his step over the rough terrain he knew like no other. It's an old tomb in the mountains only known to orvenians who used to pilgrimage there. Outsider's don't know it exists so we should be safe there. At least for the night.
Shena hoped he was right. The Savanese tank they had stolen and traveled in for the past few days had at last run out of solar cells. They had been forced to ditch and scuttle the valued vehicle in a nearby river to avoid being found by enemy forces searching for them. Now they had to make the difficult journey to the refugee center and rendezvous point on foot.
The past three days had been an arduous journey of taking refuge under caves and ducking into shrubbery every time they spotted a column of marching savanese soldiers battling in the distance or heard a scimitar scout fighter screaming overhead searching for stragglers to gun down in a strafing run. Shena had establed rules for the group to follow to the letter that would help them all survive.
First, from now on they, would be avoiding open fields and farmlands as well as the main stone roads winding through the jungle. It had been oh so tempting to use the easy flat trails to quckly escape the invasion. But to use those was out of the question. The savanese had already beaten them to them. She knew those places would now be a death trap, high with activity and conflict. The savanese owned these roads now. Best to avoid them unless no other option presented itself. It was an arduous slow march as a result. And they were running out of time. With each passing day the window of opportunity to get to and flee the country border before the Savanese took control of it was closing,. They would be trapped. With nowhere to go but directly in the clutches of their pursuers.
And the noose that would await them all.
I still think we should have kept moving said Shena. Swatting at unevolved bugs swarming her face. She had had enough of bugs to last a lifetime.
We still have time to reach the site. Naru said assuredly. But my family must have rest before moving on. Please..
Shena looked behind the procession briefly and saw that he was right. They were all even more exhausted and soaked than she was. She felt ashamed for suggesting they just keep moving through it. They were not soldiers used to harsh conditions and hunger like her. They were just civilians. Refugees fleeing a war they had no part to play in. To think them her equals was selfish and inconsiderate in light of all that they had suffered.
Alright. We keep moving until we reach the temple. Then we take refuge for the night Said Shena. Cutting another thick branch in half with a strong swing of her blue saber.
For the next few hours they continued up the steep mountain trail, the rain around them growing less frequent and softer. The air was beginning to feel thin all around her but still they kept going. Shena looked down every so often and was surprised to see the trampled used grass trail slowly give way to paved withered stone in a heavily detailed hexagonal pattern. It had not been used for quite some time she would have guessed, but much care had been afforded to each step. There were thousands. And once the stone road finally became fully formed. Shena looked up and was greeted with a sight to behold that made her stop in her tracks. Her mouth wide open by what she saw.
Naru smiled with his family behind her. "We're here." Welcome to the tomb of fallen emperors.
Wedged and suspended at the center between two mountains' partially obscured by clouds in front of them lay an ancient titanic tomb the shape of a great stone tiger head with its jaw and maw of fangs wide open. Attached to it's lower two canines an old destroyed rope bridge barely tethered and swaying below covered in moss. The dark cavernous mouth of an opening and it's now absent bridge had once led all the way up to where Shena and the party were currently standing on the other side, now unable to cross. Below lay certain death. And a long fall obscured by clouds.
So..Now what? Asked shena a bit hesitant as she looked down, a few pebbles shifting away from her foot at the edge and falling off the edge, echoing as they collided against the cliffside below until their sound could not be heard at all. A few more gasps of awe escaped from her and as a result of the thin air it made her sound all the more speechless.
Now? Naru smirked. Preparing his bow. Now we cross.
Naru and his daughter Nadia both in unison drew for their largest strongest arrows from their quivers and fired at the strongest pillars on the opposite side with strands of webbing attached to their ends. Then for the next hour all four nimble spiders gracefully walked along the two strands like tightrope walkers tossing strands of webbing between each other and forming a web pathway and tethered hand guides to help cross more steadily. Calling out for this strand to go here and tighten that one lose knot there and so on. Shena just starred across as she sat down amazed and dumbfounded at how seamless they all worked together. She felt incredibly guilty and embarrassed at being unable to assist in the bridge's speedy construction. But knew it best to not interfere and be a hinderance. After much work and deliberation. The family finished the bridge built in just an hour as sun began to set all around them.
Shena closed her eyes and crossed the golden bridge with help from Esvia and Naru. The two girls waiting bored and tired already at the opposite end in the temple in the clouds waiting for the scarred shark to just cross already. Shena ashamed she was feeling more scarred than children about this. But was even more worried as she felt the bridge shake and shift in the strong wind passing by all around her wanting to blow her off and fall to her death. She stopped occasionally out of tense fear. But still, She trusted the spiders, and their creation with her life. And the thin bridge whose strands were no thicker than a pencil held strong and firm with each slow calculated step she took.
Shena breathed a long long sigh of relief as she finished the crossing and collapsed against the nearest stone tooth support pillar while Esvia and the girls severed the bridge so they weren't followed before carrying the piles of collected golden corded bundles inside the temple for later. A large happy smile formed across Shena's face in regards to what she had accomplished. Now able to catch her breath, Shena looked around the incredible surroundings that dwarfed them all in size. The temple looked utterly ancient, was riddled with vines, shrubbery, and moss. But in between the foliage was intricately carved stone work and hieroglyphic patterns of a language Shena couldn't understand herself. Naru approached her sitting on the floor and watched her amused as she tried to read his native language absolutely enthralled and said she did well for her first time crossing. He then grabbed her hand and helped her inside the tigers jaw down the steps into the darkly lit temple to join his family after a long day of grueling travel. Shena secretly wanted to come back out later when she got the chance to try and decipher what the messages on the wall said. But she obeyed and followed. She was feeling less and less in charge of the situation with each passing moment. But for once she didn't mind.
The family managed a relatively comfortable camp site deep inside the hallows of the old temple riddled with puddles of water from the misty clouds outside that seeped through the cracks above and echoed all throughout the tomb. Everyone had a role to fill. With Nadia and Naya making hammocks out of webbing for all of them to rest in. Esvia cleaning up the floor of debris and weeds to make a temporary living room. And Naru lighting makeshift torches on the walls to allow light before preparing dinner. Cooking rice with an open campfire at the center of the main room before unwrapping a few pieces of stale naan bread and sizzling what last scraps of preserved I evolved jungle rat meat he had hunted during their long travels together. Shena tried to find someway to be useful as she watched the busy family, desperate to help anyway she could and not feel like a freeloader fiddling with her hands. She offered to help Esvia clean and Naru cook. But both just smiled saying she had done enough and asked if she could just entertain the girls while they prepared dinner for everyone.
Shena glanced toward the two girls at the edge of the campfire light swaying in their hammocks and gulped. The two spiders were bored, tired, and just as hungry as she herself was. Shena didn't really know how to talk to kids. But managed to stand on her own this time and limped over to the girls asking if they were alright.
Fine. Nadia responded. Shifting over in her bed off the ground in the dark to see face to face with the stranger.
Do...Shena rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. Not knowing what to say. Do you and your sister? Want to play? Or talk? Or something?
Nadia seemed to lighten a bit at the proposal and shrugged her shoulders intrigued and accepted. Her sister across even more so who started nodding excitedly.
For the next half hour Shena, Nadia, And Naya divided their time between two activates. The first being swinging from makeshift web swings hung from the highest support beam. Shena found it a bit boring and dull but didn't object, not wanting to spoil the girls desperate attempt at fun and acting like kids while they still could. The second activity however.
You sure this is safe? Shena asked nervously.
Positive. Naidia reassured. Clutching tightly to the slingshot with her sister in tow.
The two girls had spent a good thirty minutes of careful planning in turning Shena into a living projectile by tieing a large interwoven strand between two pillars readying to slingshot her far across the room into a large strung up web net to catch her fall from crashing into and going splat against the stone wall. Much to Shena's objection on whether or not this was a good idea. But the girls said once again reassured her it was safe as they struggled and tried to drag her held in the center of the line further back straining from the stretched length and the shark's weight. Shena tried to back out at the very end while she still could, but they reminded her that she said she was desperate to be useful anyway she could. And in the end. She admittedly gave in and tried to find their point of view. No matter how bloody demented it sounded.
On three. Nadia glanced toward her sister Nya beside her. She nodded back eagerly. Too eagerly. Shena gulped.
One.
Two.
Shena closed her eyes and braced for the worst.
Three!
The girls let go.
Shena admittedly found herself laughing longer than she could recall after with the girls as they had to climb the web net each time to get her out of the sticky strands that had caught her like an unevolved fly. It was some of the most fun she had in years. While most trapped prey would be frightened to see two spiders climbing up to greet them. Each time Shena was absolutely ecstatic like a little pup again to see the little spiders help her down so they could do it all over again this time further back and faster. It reminded her of the incredibly stupid yet fond games she herself played with her own brothers at their age. She flew into the trap nine times that night and was looking to make it ten. But before they could get the chance Esvia called out that dinner was ready.
The family and Shena spent a good long while chatting with lifted spirits during dinner which was delicious as always thanks to Naru. Hours passed, stories were told, plans were made and maps were drawn of the long yet determined path come morning. Soon enough it was sadly over all too soon. With it getting late and the sun beginning to set outside, Esvia told the girls to finish off every last strand of recycled web desert which they obeyed diligently and headed off to bed. Shena ever the soldier and one to follow orders also finished everything in her bowl. With full bellies of food and recycled web being processed, the spider family and Shena retired for the night at last, exhausted from the long day and remarkable meal she felt so fortunate to be able to experience with them.
But shena found that she couldn't sleep.
She instead stared up in silence, swinging from her golden hammock at an open gaping hole in the stone ceiling high above, allowing a breathtaking view of the cosmos, stars and even a passing shooting star she had never seen the likes of in her lifetime. Especially not with the polluted skies of Merra back home. It was...incredible. Shena was feeling more and more at home in this strange but mysterious land she had never really known until now through it's inhabitants eyes. And she hated herself even more for thinking it as a dung heap country for so much of her time spent fighting to keep it under monarchy control, never really knowing what she was even fighting to preserve. Or how beautiful it really was.
Now she knew.
Restless and immensely curious. Shena silently slipped from her hammock so as not to wake the others and tiptoed on her crutch gently outside the main room to explore the tomb with a torch in hand. Naru unable to find sleep as well, had paused from his moment of wood wilting and stood from his bed to notice her departure into the shadows and decides to follow close behind. Shena was aware of his presence obviously. Yet did not mind him making sure she didn't get lost.
Shena walked through dark eroded hallways for a long while. Most of the rooms were empty and it's treasures had been pillaged by monarchy grave robbers long ago. That hurt Shena most of all to see. To see a place so beautiful desecrated by her greedy ancestors and know nothing had been done to make amends. It was horrible to know first hand what her nation had done to those it had conquered and mistreated for so long.
Shena couldn't' see anymore of it and decided to try and find her way back. She got lost sadly as all the hallways looked and felt the same. She eventually found herself entering a large empty room. The shadows parting and scattering from beneath her footsteps as they echoed across the cold stone floor thick with moss and broken withered offerings.
Shena stopped in place suddenly at the mercy of a grand yet frightening sight towering over her like a colossus. An old erodes statue covered in green shrubbery. Withered, yet still barely legible. Even some of the green, silver and black paint had not yet faded underneath. It was of an armored black gorilla. Immense, Hulking and riddled with scars on his forehead and lip revealed through an open bulging cylindrical helmet decorated with a flowing strand of spider steelsilk dyed green, adorning atop his massive head. Beneath the helm in torchlight and shadow, A stone faced chilling expression to match his body completely armored in thick lamina segmented silver colored plating. In between his enormous blocky fingers he had placed a steadfast iron grip to a stone replica of the weapon he had used in life to crush his many enemies. A massive cylindrical two handed Warhammer indented with multiple brutal squares wrapping around it like protruding tiles used for crushing bones and bashing in the armor of those foolish enough to have come against it. Even more foolish to face it's clearly formidable wielder who showed no mercy to any who challenged him and threatened his rule and ambition for creating his own dynasty.
Shena approached further and looked down at the prehensile feet of the strange gorilla warlord. Her eye's widened at what she found.
It was a casket. The last in the ancient stone crypt. And it had not yet been disturbed. And to her amazement, at his feet behind the hexagonal container was the real thing. A smaller version of the warhammer of it's owner, joining him in death. Resting comfortably across on a pedestal covered in cobwebs. Made of solid green jade. Just as pristine as ever as it sparkled and glowed green in the torch light.
Shena hesitated for but a moment as she gently brushed her hand over the old stone casket. Brushing aside mountains of dust and collected green which stuck to it like it were not willing to let her intrude on whoever was underneath. Shena had no interest in opening it thankfully but did want to know if there was a name inscribed on its covering.
There was.
Shena grew excited as she hung the torch beside at the feet of the stone giant and began attempting to find out who he was. Time and time she failed. She couldn't understand a word of it to her substantial frustration. Luckily. Help was close at hand.
"Trouble sleeping?" Naru asked leaning against the opening of the door behind her. His six arms folded smugly and happily at her discovery.
I Uhhh! Shena attempted to stay with a nervous stutter at being found out in the presence of a sacred tomb uninvited. I didn't...I didn't mean to..."
It's alright Naru said camly, not giving it mind. I'm happy you're curious about our culture. Not many in the monarchy are.
Shena smiled in great relief at those words of reassurance and turned back to eye the large statue of the warrior. Naru approaching in calm blissful silence behind to hold his own torch further up to see the old warriors face.
Who is he? Shena asked. Unable to wait any longer.
Naru smiled. He didn't need to know the encryption on the casket. Every jungle native alive knew his name. He had heard the sad story a thousand times from his own father since he was a boy.
Garotan the Great. Naru said aloud with a strange equal mixture of pride and shame. Before becoming a bit saddened as it's cold simple truth echoed throughout the ruined walls. Or Garotan the cruel by his enemies. And those who came from the monarchy.
Sorry. Shena was stupid enough to mutter under her breath. Just saying that could not erase decades of strife and looting.
It's alright. Naru chuckled camly. Far too camly in light of all that her nation had done to his. Care to hear the story? We have some time before dawn. I've never told it to the girls because it's a bit too gruesome for them to hear yet, but something tells me you aren't afraid of some rather unpleasant details.
Shena couldn't accept fast enough. The two knelt down on the moss covered floor which felt like a soft carpet as he began the tale aloud of the jade empire's savior. And it's destroyer.
Garotan the great. Or garotan the cruel by those who opposed him. Lived one hundred and sixty years ago. Born at the beginning of the end of our empire. He was a cunning and ruthless man who supposedly loved his nation. And power and battle even more so. Ever since he was a young boy he knew he had a talent for war. And he practiced it every hour of every day upon leaving home until he thought himself the master of it. He soon rose the ranks of the Jade Empire army after enlisting and led armies against swampland barbarians attempting invasion after invasion trying to get through our great wall and the treasures that lay behind it. They never made it through thanks to him. And he made sure they never tried again by skinning the captured replite warriors alive and pinning their scalley hides together as an unbroken interwoven tapestry thousands of miles long that wrapped around the entire empire's borders across it's great stone wall. The flag of flesh stood for months after as a stern warning and reminder to those who approached before finally rotting away in the wind along with the swamplanders dreams of being able to defeat him in battle and getting through. But as one ambition died. Another began to take root.
For such efficiency in crushing the invaders and leading his loyal men fearlessly into battle time and time again not suffering a single defeat he was appointed the proud title of grand general of the army and leader of the imperial family household defenders at the young age of just twenty three, the youngest age ever to be appointed the title. The honor of commanding the steadfast and infamous gorilla guard was all his along with the prestige that came with it. Tasked with defending the royal tiger family of Tarverum who's unbroken dynastic lineage had ruled the empire for hundreds of years.
Garotan secretly sought to change that.
But he was clever and patient enough to keep his ambitions under control in silence for twenty years until the time was right. He spent countless hours with the emperor, his wife, and their young son. The tiger prince kashan Tarverum. Watching their every move. Even mentoring the young cub in the art of war and acting as a second father to him in an effort to gain trust and insight into the courtly politics he desired to influence in the coming years. Kashan trusted Garotan with everything in his life all to easily. And Garotan admittedly grew quite fond of the boy over their many years learning and training together. But still he knew his self proclaimed destiny in the deepest depths of his soul. And he vowed to fulfill it all the same in due time. Thinking it for the best. And not willing to let anything or anyone stand in his way from achieving eternal greatness and his place in history.
But everything changed when the monarchy first attacked.
Your nation was still young and fresh off it's easy conquest of the tropical natives and had just defeated the infamous swampland berserkers in arduous deathly battle to the east. And now, still seeking fresh plunder and land, they heard tale of a wealthy and undefeated nation further south. And soon set their sight on the biggest and most famous prize known all throughout the western coasts. The Jade Empire itself.
Garotan rose to meet the challenge headlong unafraid with the entire might of the jade army behind his back. And with his ward Prince Tarverum now fully grown at twenty years old at his side as brothers in arms and his strong right hand. The two slowly won battle after battle against the invaders from the sea and each became fiercer and deadlier with each conflict as they saved each other from certain death more times they could count. Yet still. This war dragged on despite each of their prowess in battle. And neither side was making quick process. In the end. The first Jade war ended in a tense draw.
At the peace agreement in the jade capital of Orevan. The tiger emperor kavasi Tarverum settled to give an entire third of his empire, the northern provinces connected to the western coast over to the monarchy as well as the trading port city kal'koa. A bargaining chip to prevent further bloodshed and invasion attempts. This enraged Garotan who had fought for years to regain and keep those lands from monarchy grasp only for them to be given away in a humiliating act of appeasement. Believing this foolish act of submitting to the demands of a foreign power would only embolden these new enemies now lying in wait at their borders, feeding off their own nation's wealth. Feeling betrayed and humiliated, Garotan at last felt the time was right to indulge in his long suppressed ambitions before it was too late. To create his own dynastic gorilla lineage that would last a thousand years and crush these invaders, sending them back into the sea shattered under his stern iron fist. But he couldn't do it as a mere general. And so he set out to change that.
In what became known to history as the night of the swift knives, Garotan and his gorilla guard who had all secretly sworn allegiance to him over their submissive emperor assassinated the entire royal tarverum family in their sleep. Smothering the emperor and his wife before burning their bodies. Hanging cousins, mistresses and distant relatives. Even killing newborn tiger cubs in their cribs with their bare hands before tossing their remains into rivers to be swallowed up by the strong currents. Old and young alike. None were spared in the heinous purge that claimed more than five hundred lives in just one bloody night. None that is. Except one.
As prince Kashav was dragged bloodied, beaten, and grief stricken from his bed by the treasonous gorilla guard before the feet of Garotan the betrayer now sitting steadfast and smiling atop his father's jade throne victorious and arrogant. Garotan for the first and only time in his life showed weakness and decided to spare his former ward and blood brother. Instead letting the deposed prince rot away in a prison cell for ten years, alive but unable to cause him any strife or challenge his new reign as supreme warlord and usurper of the jade empire.
Kashav roared with vengeance as he was dragged away to his permanent confinement at the hands of the man he had trusted and looked up to all his life, calling out to him as a murderer and that he would die soaked in his own blood with nothing and no one to rely upon in his final moments. Garotan spared him and his feeble threat no more than a single conflicted glance at his former friend before vanishing for a decade. It was done. And there was no going back. There was only the future and his legacy that concerned him now.
For ten years Garotan sat on the jade throne completely unchallenged. With the Tarverum's gone, he ruled with an iron fist and was feared and respected by all. Without restraint he quickly instigated the second jade war and in a decisive victory drove the monarchy out of the northern provinces, attacking and securing the region in what would become as the crushing of Kal'kora. A horrid massacre where none were spared if they came from or aligned themselves with the monarchy. The ocean kingdom was defeated and humiliated like never before, returning to the sea to lick their wounds. Garotan had done the impossible. And soon he accomplished many more great deeds for his nation militarily regaining all of their lost territory, but he had also done just as many of the unspeakable to its people in order to preserve his hold on it. He committed numerous atrocities against his own subjects as a tyrant in order to maintain his tenuous grip of power. Killing or imprisoning any who would stand to oppose him and hoped to restore the old order. In the end. Garotan the cruel became his own worst enemy and in no time at all was surrounded by enemies inside and out who would seek his downfall. He grew arrogant, mistrustful, lustful, and glutenous in his newfound seemingly unchallenged might. His greatest foe locked away forgotten forever. But kashav had not forgotten the man who had taken everything from him. Oh no.
The claw remembers.
After spending ten years tunneling and scraping with his bare claws until they were worn down to the bloodied nub. The deposed prince at last escaped and dived into the deadly thrashing river outside his prison cell where he almost drowned from so many years of weakness, hunger, and chained confinement. The malnourished vengeful tiger however would not die and went on the run in hiding. Growing his followers and those who supported his rightful claim. Biding his time with his forces for years in hiding, lying in wait in the thick mountainous jungles an outlaw and rebel. Slowly growing in power to reclaim what was rightfully his and kill the man who had betrayed his trust and discarded him from memory. He and his army quickly adopted red silkbands atop their foreheads and decorating their blades as their signature symbol, never to forget the blood spilled by the treasonous general. Marching on in the strength of thousands in what became known as the red turban rebellion, chanting and roaring their signature words of vengeance under their red and green banner adorned with four crude tiger claw slashes that echoed throughout the jungle mountains and could be heard all the way in Orevan hundreds of miles away.
The crimson spilled shall be avenged! The usurper's blood we shall upend!! To death all those who would face our might!! Our claws of vengeance shall stalk the night!!!
Garotan could actually hear the words of declaration all the way on his throne at his usual grand feasting that night in the palace. Never before had his servants wives, concubines and sons seen him so enraged or lose his vigorous appetite so quickly. It was said he gripped so tightly to the seat of his stolen jade throne upon hearing the challenge that it cracked under the sheer strength of his vengeful shaking fist before then shattering the table in half with his fists in a fit of nervous rage. In that moment, Garotan admittedly was immensely regretting having spared the young prince all those years ago. Once his infamous temper cooled and his servants returned from hiding, he sent for his jade warhammer and set off with his army under the menacing black and green banner stamped with his own iron grey fist at its center as the official insignia of his soon much to be feared gorilla dynasty. Ready and prepared to deal personally with the outlaw prince who would dare challenge his claim for control of the empire. And to finish what he should have done years ago. With his bare hands if need be.
What followed was a bloody and horrible civil war that tore the jade empire apart. Two opposing armies both dressed in green yet divided by red and black clashed for years in one slaughter after the next. Brother turned against brother. Friend against friend. Species against species. Everyone was forced to chose either fist or claw during the long conflict or risk being swallowed up in these two leaders destructive game that swept away all concepts of brotherhood and neutrality in their now ruined homeland like a guest of smoke in the wind. Apes and cats even joining en mass to one side or the other out of fear of being called a traitor to their own species and persecuted to the brink of death if they chose wrong by being tiger and fighting for Garotan or gorilla and fighting for kashav. These unlucky few could only pray for a quick death if they were captured wearing the colors of a species they served that wasn't their own. Gorilla fist soldiers often taking part in skinning the hides and fangs off captured tiger soldiers and women who just happened to be in their path as capes and necklaces, with tigers of claw doing exactly the same when they discovered of this heinous practice with cut gorilla hands and feet as trophies around their neck and tied to weapons as bloody ornaments of comeuppance. And thus the vicious cycle only furthered and worsened with each passing year and all to hasty accusation until all suffered and bled. Racism, prejudice, and forceful ultimatum of aligning with your own kind over that of the villainous other spread like wildfire just as it had been in the darkness of the savage era so long forgotten, just lying in wait to resurface at the right catalyst such as this. It was the most barbarous and most shameful age in our nation's history where sheer devastation, famine and targeted pogrums of ethnic cleansing gripped our once lush and peaceful realm like never before. Yet neither fist nor claw could land a decisive victory over the other to end the needless bloodshed quickly. Garotan had finally met his match in his now battle hardened ward who he had made the grave mistake of teaching him everything he knew and not killing him when him when he had the chance. Despite being outnumbered and constantly on the run, prince kashav and his ragtag army always managed to live to fight another day and proved to be a constant thorn in Garotan's backside that he feared would never be free of. The two kings clashed many times over the years in person, but each time they dueled in thick jungles, grassy plains, and atop snowy mountains surrounded by the dead and dying of their loyal men eager to finish the war once and for all, they both managed to survive each other's wrathful weapons long enough in a close draw to be dragged away off the field of battle to do it all over again once they recovered. Battle after battle. Year after year. The two met and reluctantly retreated to lick their wounds and both became heavily scarred and bitter because of it. Garotan's Warhammer and iron fists clashed and sparked against kashav's glaive and sharpened claws in a physical, mental, and personal battle of steel, wits, and blood. All for the tile of lone ruler of the empire and living in a world under their own rule without the other. Yet still neither side would falter or surrender. They were perfect equals and rivals in every sense of the word. Unmatched in skill and pure seething hatred for each other. And they could not best the other man no matter how badly they desired it to be so.
But as the internal and now racial war raged on. An even greater threat in the quite literal sense was smelling the fresh spilled blood in the water nearby. The ocean monarchy seeing the internal strife and immensely fragile state of this once united and feared superpower now destroying itself for their convenience, decided to go all in one last time, knowing they would never get another chance like this. Mustering every soldier from all corners of the four seas and their new land empire. They began the long march onward to take Orevan with the strength of two hundred thousand unopposed.
When Kashav's scouts first discovered the treachery of the aquatics. He knew he had to end this petty war with his former rival immediately or else neither of them would rule the empire of ashes that would follow in this returning threat's wake. But he knew he could not do it militarily. At least in time. With a heavy heart. He knew there was only one option...
For days and days he contemplated and struggled to let go of his revenge, hidden in the shadows of his secret mountain fortress with his tired weakened army. But in the end he had to think about their future as well as the future and his new wife dreda and son kodra he had hidden away there during his long exile. In the end, he was willing to forgive Garotan for all that he had done in order to join their armies as one mighty force in order to even stand a chance at saving this mangled empire of theirs together. Just as they always should have done. At least for the time being. Then. It would be back to business as usual when the aquatics were driven out for good and they could set their sights right back on each other once the threat at their door was dealt with once and for all.
He called for a white banner of truce and Garotan stubbornly agreed to meet him, half expecting the suspicious parlay to be an obvious trap. The two battle worn armies arrived armed to the teeth sensing instigation and met at the waterfall crossing of a famed tiger maiden bridge, each on opposing sides of the gorge under the now withered banners of claw and fist. Everyone was tense upon seeing their hated enemies and their leaders so close across ripe for the taking after so many years of bloodshed, chase, and slaughter. No one muttered a single word as Garotan and Kashav disembarked from their steeds and met face to face at the center of the bridge, alone for the first time in years. No weapons. No guards. And astoundingly, not trying to strangle the other immediately on sight. No one could hear what they were saying from the noisy rapids but they most certainly knew what it was about. The two kings couldn't even bring themselves to look each other in the eye or speak as equals for an entire hour out of sheer disgust and resentment, their fabric strands or red and green atop their helmets just fluttering aggressively in the wind as if encouraging them both to return to their old habits once again and forget about this nonsense. The misty tears of the waterfall tiger maiden raging further behind them both, growing in it's overwhelming downpour, almost as if she herself was heartbroken by being forced to see front and center below what had become of these two blood brothers who had both fallen so far from grace as a result of this tragic war.
Ultimately it was kashav who swallowed his pride and broke the heated silence first. The tiger prince did most all of the talking while Emperor Garotan just stood there, stone faced and bitter with his arm's folded all the while, eyeing his old friend right in front of him defenseless with barely controlled murder in his eyes. He listened. Albeit just barely. knowing he himself would soon follow thanks to the traitorous tiger's archers lying in wait on the opposing side of the ridge if he did just exactly that. He had swore long ago he would not follow his despised enemy into death so soon. He would watch his treasonous ward die with a front row seat, leaving the renegade outlaw knowing he had finally beaten him once and for all. And this wasn't the right time for it. It had to be perfect in it's finality. So he waited.
The prince, immensely relieved at having made it past the first minute without being strangled, approached closer and was now ready to discuss the long and arduous difficult terms of this very, very temporary and desperate alliance. Hoping to convince what was once his friend and now long time rival of the common enemy that now threatened them all equally. Fist and Claw alike. Or else neither would survive long enough to even rebuild what both sides had helped destroy.
After hours of standing on the bridge arguing back and forth endlessly. Making desperate demonstrations of anger and masculine strength by pounding their fists or claws against their chests or roaring in each other's faces. Kashav calmed down and reached out his paw first. Begging for his old mentor to take it. If not for himself or their old friendship. But the greed and sake of his own stolen dynasty.
Garotan looked down. Looked back at him. And agreed. But he didn't shake.
The two generals departed in silence from one another back to their armies to make camp for the night on opposite sides of the bridge. White flags waving on both sides of this new alliance. Some men from both sides chatted and traded with each other. Some feasted, sang, and celebrated the new delicate peace for hours before returning to their side's tents come sunset. Come morning. Both well rested armies would march out, united as one to face the incoming invaders once and for all.
Perhaps they could have won.
But as Garotan tossed and turned in the dark of his tent, unable to sleep. Once again, he proved to be his own undoing out of fear and spite toward his cunning enemy who had outsmarted him time and time again. This was his one and only chance. He had chased the tiger prince for years and now, lying in wait just at the other side was his greatest rival fast asleep. Right for the taking. Believing Kashav the traitor and rebel would draw first blood as he had always planned to do that night. The vengeful gorilla warlord decided to beat him at his own game before he could ever get the chance.
Campfires and torches burned. Flags waved in the quiet silent wind. The sound of soft footsteps crunching leaves across stone and grass could scarcely be heard as garotan and his entire army sixty thousand strong quietly crossed the bridge and surrounding the miles long quiet camp of claw in the dead of night. A crescent scythe ready to carve out the last of these traitors who were foolish enough to believe a white piece of cloth could be their shield against them.
The swift fist of vengeance smashed right past the white flag of false peace and crashed through the camp in an instant with the weight and cruelty of thousands behind it. Confused gasps of those startled by the noise quickly gave way to screams of terror and thundering roars of death and pure beastly savagery. Tents and flags burned and glowed orange for hours. The injured dragged from their beds and butchered like meat across the bloodsoaked field by horns, teeth, tusks, and hooves. Brave warriors who had survived hundreds of battles died before even reaching their weapons in time to defend themselves before having their throats cut or being skinned alive. The crimson claw became an outstretched hand for mercy in but a matter of hours. The few surviving the massacre tried to flee across the bridge of what was supposed to be peace. But Gartoan always one step ahead had foreseen this as well. The bridge exploded just as hundreds of red and green attempted to cross. The river below stained red by their blood for days after. And with that last heinous act. The red turban rebellion was crushed at last in one swift night of treachery known to history as the outstretched iron hand of peace soaked in crimson blood. It was perfect. Just as Garotan had always wanted.
As the army of the fist shifted through the burned debris of the rebel forces picking off the survivors. Garotan retired for the night, watching from atop a hill knowing his work was done. And for the first time in years, comfortable and alone in the shadows of his war tent. He smiled on a job well done and fell fast asleep effortlessly. His destiny secured at last forever.
Come morning. Garotan was greeted to an even greater and familiar gift brought before him by his loyal guard. Kashav. Once again bloodied, beaten, and in chains after being the last one standing fighting off dozen's of fists single-handedly until he was at last surrounded and had to concede to his capture hoping to find mercy for himself and his captured men if he did so. Only unlike before. Garotan would not make the same mistake twice. True to his word. He would spare no one.
At the stump of an old dead tree atop a nearby hill. The sky stormy and grey. Garotan acted the part of executioner personally and killed rebel after rebel. Tiger after tiger. Captive after captive until at last the prince's mangled orange face having seen the deaths and rolling of corpses down the hill to make room for the next all at the back of the line was pressed flat and kneeling over the block in defeat for his turn, crushed under the weight of the usurper's foot with a front row seat. But before Garotan brought the death blow one final time, his warhammer raised eagerly high in the air savoring the moment in all it's glory with his men watching bored, he decided his worthy opponent deserved something special and sent for a different more fitting weapon to perform the deed. Kashav quickly spoke his last words to what was once his greatest friend waiting to kill him. His mentor who had destroyed everything both had fought to preserve and held so dear. His friend he had once loved like a brother and second father.
"Curse you and may the blood you have shed stay with you always forever Garotan... Muttered the last true prince of the Tarverum's in his final moments, unable to look his executioner in the eye. "You have doomed us all an empire of the fallen..."
Garotan ever so impatient and full of rage as he was in life didn't even wait another second before decapitating the traitors skull against the bloodied stump with his own stolen weapon in a single gruesome so thunderous and full of hate, it split and cracked the log apart underneath in one fail swoop. The sound echoing ominously throughout the completely silent valley before vanishing along with all the dreams of their alliance being able to save the jade empire forever. His business at last taken care of, off to his next great war Garotan went, carrying hammer and his new trophy of a glaive atop each shoulder victoriously. Walking quickly off that blood soaked hill cast in shadows and now drenched in the blood of thousands of headless claw corpses.
Their leader the fallen prince humiliatingly set upright at the very top hunched over on the split log acting as the only throne he would ever sit upon. His tattered destroyed flag of an outlaw not an emperor tightly tied in one hand waving in the yellow sunset. His own head resting comfortably in the other, dripping with blood as it dripped between his claws, staining them forever. Garotan laughed at the humorous way he left his finally defeated rival to shamefully rot under the hot sun for hours before putting him out of his mind for good, not affording his treachery a second thought and already planning his next attack. Eager to meet his next foe he knew he would defeat just like all the others before him. Especially now that the ungrateful people of his empire he was trying to defend could no longer stand in his way at last.
But ambition and the reality of preserving it do often not go hand in hand. And while Garotan was a master strategist and warrior in his own rights. This new war to be waged was unlike anything he had ever anticipated. The monarchy had learned from it's past defeat. Creating new weapons and machines of war to outmatch the remaining outdated tactics of the jade empire.The first aircraft with support from their new craftsman allies in the forest federation to lay waist to all stone strongholds. Deadly harpoon gatling guns and muskets to overwhelm crude bow and arrow. And a navy unmatched by any other in the world at the time that crushed and blockaded the jungle ports one by one. Garotan always the desperate and seeing potential in studying his foes, tired to adapt and develop imitations of these new machines and a few can still be found today. But in the end. It was far too late to make a substantial difference. One or one thousand jade fighters. Orevan would be conquered by the waving blue and golden flags which would stand for a century after just as garotan had always feared would happen. But he wasn't content with giving up. He was never one to surrender.
The emperor set fire to his own capital as the royalist army approached rather then let them have it and went on the run in hiding, refusing to surrender even when the end had already come and he could not see it.
Without the support of the claw army, and his own forces and industry depleted by years of rebellion and internal strife. Garotan's army scattered and fled into the jungle and mountains just as their defeated enemies had been forced to do so long ago in a humiliating twist of irony. Garotan grew petty and full of anger by what state his once invincible army was now reduced to. Even toward his own loyal officers and family having fled into exile with him. Their wealth and arms depleted. Food rationed. Defections rampant from disease, constant rain and despair. Before long desperate to preserve what was left of his empire against his victorious enemy. Garotan ruled with fear and suspicion against his own men and servants who had fled with him. Executing any who would think to leave as traitors. Before long. Everyone was against him. For they could see what he could not.
He was emperor of an empire which no longer existed.
On the anniversary of the slaughter of claw, while fast asleep and dreaming of his next attack. Garotan was awoken from such a dream in favor of the nightmare and reality of being and captured and betrayed by his own gorilla guard and family who had so far remained loyal to him only out of fear or desire for his power. But not that he had neither. He had nothing to tempt them or threaten them with any more. They delivered him gagged and tied to feet of the Ocean Octopus king Daradus who pardoned all the rebel fist members and welcomed them into the monarchy with open arms. They were all to eager to accept and put aside years of bloodshed for blessed peace at last. Even if it was under a foreign leader. A small price to pay.
As Garotan rotted away in a prison cell, awaiting his execution come morning. His family and army disbanded or already swearing fealty to their new conquers. His treasures and finery stripped away for rags and chains. The great gorilla king. Now a disgraced king of nothing. Is said to have wept for the first time in his life at the full weight of his failure coming back to him all at once with a painful vengeance. He had lost it all. And by his own doing no less. He was silent throughout that long night in his dark cell. Ready to face his final moments and the humiliations from the crowds that would surely gather come dawn rather than live in a world that would remember him only for this final shameful defeat.
Yet still he would not die. History was not done with him yet.
A lone prison guard. His last loyal supporter who had not turned on him just like all the others. Helped him escape under the cover of darkness and retrieve his weapons and armor. Telling him to flee north. Far north. Beyond the reach or interest of the monarchy who's victory was absolute forever over him and these lands. Garotan refused saying he would never abandon his empire and go into exile a disgraced wanderer. The lone guard just saddled his arrogant lord's steed and told him there was no other way. If he was to survive. He must vanish. Garotan the great was dead in the eyes of the world that very night. And he must never be seen again or return to these lands he was born of again.
With a heavy heart garotan the vanquished handed off his jade warhammer to his last loyal ally. Telling him to watch over it for his return. That he would one day arrive with an army and take back what was theirs. And to destroy all who had opposed him.
Just wanting him to leave quickly. The lone guard quickly and frantically accepted the jade warhammer, promising to look after it under safe keeping. As the bells of escape rang throughout the town. Garotan rode off into the night. First and last Gorilla emperor of the jade empire.
Garotan would never return to reclaim his hammer sadly. The guard kept his promise even until old age. But his lord never returned for it. In one final last act to honor his leader by returning what was his, the old withered jaguar journeyed up the mountains in a long arduous pilgrimage to the temple of fallen emperors to lay the weapon at the feet of garotan's statue he had built for himself. He kept his promise to the end. And at least returned one thing that what was rightfully his. If not his kingdom. At least his weapon he had used to maintain his grip over it.
As for Garotan..
Into exile he went. To the farthest reaches of the frozen north where snow and ice reigned year round. Where outcast and barbarian ran amuck lawless and in the pursuit of coin. Where no one knew or cared who or what accomplishments' or atrocities this strange black gorilla from a distant destroyed land had committed.
At first the disgraced emperor tried to hire mercenaries with what last remained of his wealth, but when that quickly ran out, he was forced to become one himself. Going from one job to the next as a hired killer, extortionist or just bandit leader, in an effort to grow in power and influence over these bands of brutes just as savage as he, hoping to buy or force their loyalty. It all amounted to nothing. He was no more special than the rest of them. And as the years passed. Garotan's hopes for revenge dwindled and died with the spark of ambition inside of him.
Now an aged grey silverback. He traveled penniless and an aimless quiet drifter, donned in heavy withered grey furs and ragged iron armor from one shanty northern town to the next. His icy heavy breath stained with drink and his wrinkled but still mighty fist weilding a crude steel warhammer made from scrap and garbage to perform whatever job he could hope to find. No where near the magnificence or talents deserving of the weapon he used as Emperor and knew he would never be able to return for it.
As Garotan sat drunk and slumped at another bar, trying to forget his despair. Talks among the other patrons and travelers only hastened them.
News had come out of Garotan's own wife and son. After having sold him out to the monarchy in a plea to preserve some wealth and comfort in the new order as wealthy barons of land and property. They agreed to renounce their titles and denounce garotan as the one true emperor should he ever return. And just like that. The gorilla dynasty Garotan had fought for all his life to begin and save for his children was erased with the flick of a pen by his own wife and son.
Garotan left in pure silence. Despite the objections of the bartender. Telling him a deadly snowstorm was arriving that night and he should stay indoors at the inn for the night. He was content with dying come morning. For he had nothing left to fight for.
The Emperor stumbled and walked in a drunken emotional haze out into the crowded winter city streets. Bumping shoulders into folk just as common and meaningless as he now was. Dragging his warhammer fashioned from trash through the snow behind him, barely maintaining his iron grip anymore. He wandered out of the warm safety of the town and into the heart of the dark raging storm deep in the mountains. Hoping and begging the elements to take him at last if no foe in life could.
To his immense surprise and disappointment. He awoke alive and well the next morning. Stricken with frostbite and cold inside a warm humble cottage. Sitting across from him. A white gorilla woman who had found him frozen and collapsed in the snow half dead. He refused to eat for days after being rescued but unable to fight back without his boundless strength his strange caretaker jammed food down his helpless parched throat telling what she believed to be a broken down drunk mercenary he was a bloody fool for doing something so stupid and walking out into that storm.
After weeks of stubborn recovery and grumbling. Garotan regained his strength. But not his desire to live. But fortunate for him. He had a debt to owe.
In order to repay the woman as she so stated repeatedly hoping to give him something to do to take his mind off his sorrows. He did chores around the house for her in exchange for shelter and continued food. Repairing roofs. Shoveling snow. At first he refused profusely. This was menial labor reserved for servants and workers, not one of his clear esteem, he would boast loudly time and time again. But she was steadfast in her decision and to his horror even more stubborn than he was. He had at last become a powerless peasant. His worst fear come true. But as Garotan recovered over those long quiet months by the fire eating across the table in silence with the strange yet caring gorilla woman who had saved him from his own demise. For the first time in his life. He felt..Content. A strange feeling.
The two stayed together for quite a while in the humble cottage. Through their few talks together he learned her name was Kia. A local snowflower merchant. Poor. Yet hopeful. How could someone be so happy when they have so little he would wonder time and time again. Over time. The more and more he understood. The two took long walks in the snow together. Journeyed into town on many occasion. And Garotan's icy heart began to warm with the first spark of real compassion for someone other than himself. He grew to care for her. And she for him. And as Garotan and Kia stayed together in her cabin to shield themself from another long winter night. Kia offered him to share the night with her in her bed off the cold floor so he wouldn't be alone anymore.
After that he never was.
The two married. A small quiet wedding. No feast. No crowds of servants, guards or musicians. No piles of gifts he had never bothered to open. Just the two of them. And it felt more real to him than all the power and riches in life he had ever fought to obtain. And what came after felt even more real.
When their daughter Gana was born. A perfectly grey half blood of black and white. Garotan loved her and doted on her with all his heart, calling her his little snowflower. Never minding she was a hybrid and therefore unable to carry on his line of succession. He didn't care for dynasty or legacy or empire any longer the moment he looked into her sparkling blue eyes and reached out her tiny gentle hand to touch his riddled with scars and invisible blood he vowed neither she or his wife would ever see. In that moment. He made another vow.
Never again.
He buried his old armor and scrap warhammer deep under the frost wood floor boards of their family cabin under a locked steel chest. Swearing never again to take up arms and committing himself to a life of pacifism when he had everything he ever needed in life right here beside him. A wife who genuinely loved him. And a child who would never betray or abandon him. His first and only concern from that point on were the two of them. Not glory. Not war. Just them. For he finally had something worth living, rather than fighting for at last after so many years of searching.
Fifteen years passed onward for this poor happy family of three. Kia sold her flowers in the nearby village. Gana grew into a young and beautiful gorilla the color of ash and stormy skies with a pink flower set beside her ear. And Garotan a humble stonemason. Using his hammer for the first time in his life not to destroy. But to create. For a time they were all happy.
But such times were not to last.
A lone hooded man came walking into town one day. Donned in a green cloak waving in the winter wind obscuring his face. Accompanying him were many others just as green. All just as set on only one goal in mind as he was. The rest of the villagers gave them no mind and returned to their every day normalities. Just strangers in our lands they thought. They'll pass on eventually. And they would. But not until finding something after so many years of searching.
Garotan. Now an old man of sixty with hair as grey and silver as the armor he hadn't worn in so many years. Had just finished another long job by fixing up a barn for now an old friend of his. It was grueling work and the pay was menial. But he took pride in if it could feed his family and gave him much needed use of his still immense strength. But as he started to happily pack up his tools for the journey back home. The farmer returned and told him some strange men dressed in green came by into town. And that they were asking about him.
Fear struck garotan like a cold hard anvil in that dreaded moment. The weight and crimes of years coming back to shatter him all at once. He didn't even respond before dropping his tools and rushing back through town as fast as he could. Hoping. Begging for it to not be true. Or too late.
But as Garotan came running up the snowy pathway of the hill leading to his cottage. He saw footsteps in the snow. A familiar pawprint of a species he had hunted and persecuted for years so long ago. He ran faster. Tripping and stumbling with tears in his eyes begging to all the gods who had forsaken him for any mercy. They did not answer.
The door was smashed in at the cottage when he arrived. Windows shattered. Portraits torn and scattered outside in the snow. The scent of death and sound of screams still in the air. He still entered knowing what would await him. The past he had tried to deny so long came back with a vengeance to remind him it would never leave him be.
Lying dead across the floor, covered in blood. The one woman who had made him a better man. Only to be killed by the actions of the one before. Garotan wept for hours after as he cradled his dead wife in his arms. Screaming to the world he was sorry for all that he had done. That he deserved his fate not them. But it wasn't for him to decide. Once the tears finally settled from his cheek. Garotan gazed toward the wall in front of them both. A message written in his wife's blood had been written just for him. At the bottom of the message. A bloodied paw print of a tiger.
We have your daughter.
You cannot escape us or what you have done.
Meet us at the stone by the frozen lake in one hour.
Come alone.
The pains of an iron fist endure for years. But still they fade.
But The claw remembers. And it's scars are forever.
Gartoan tearfully laid his wife's body back to the floor beside him and stood to bash in the bloody message with a rage he hadn't felt in years. But for the first time he knew he would need it. Even if he begged not to anymore. But it wasn't up for him to decide anymore. This was his doing. And he must set it right once and for all.
He retrieved the locked chest from under the floorboards and set fire to the destroyed house. Setting a funeral pyre for his wife with pink snow flowers from the trees all around. His hands carefully laying a bed beneath her, the same hands by the man who was her husband long ago who had gotten her killed now. He swore he would set things right for her. And that their daughter would not die for the sins of her father.
Garotan shattered open the dusty chest in the snow. He hesitated before donning the silver old armor of a tyrant long since dead. Staring at the past right in front of his face. He put aside his fears and thoughts of revenge were fickle to him. Only ending the cycle of bloodshed once and for all mattered to him now.
The armored silverback. Old yet still strong walked lone and gleaming in the snow. His weapon high. His heart held low by what was about to happen. What he begged he didn't have to do. But he knew vengeance all to well. And he knew it was swift in it's fury for those who inflicted it.
Garotan approached a lone rock beside the frozen lake. Trees surrounding him from all sides. Sitting on the rock was a young man dressed in battered emerald green armor with crude gold ornamentation. His green eyes murderous and focused only on Sharpening his grey steel glaive calmly and slowly with his claws. Eager yet completely in control. Patiently biding his time as the man he had searched for all his life approached in complete silence completely at his mercy.
Didn't think you would show. The tiger kodra smiled. Continuing to sharpen his weapon for the long awaited duel ahead. Been a long while usurper. Twenty years I believe? But I have not forgotten. And neither have they.
The tiger gestured his paw to the trees coily. Surrounding Garotan were the remnants of the claw army, bows drawn and at the ready pointed on him. The last ten including their leader sitting comfortably atop the rock in the snow ready to give the order. He was going to fulfil his revenge even if he lost to this madman. His death was certain the moment he walked in alone.
Garotan to the tiger's surprise didn't afford more than a glance to the archers trained on him and turned his strangely somber and wrathless appearance back to him. Tossing aside his warhammer into the snow in front.
Where is she. Garotan asked. Looking him in the eye above.
Oh she's safe. He said calmly. Smiling. Not looking back and focusing on finishing up his glaive for the usurpers neck. For now.."
Garotan didn't flinch or tighten his grip in rage. He just stood there watching and waiting as the tiger finished sharpening his weapon with faint sparks coming off the fresh steel being prepared just for him, and his daughter if need be. The gentle snow falling across both their sets of fur and hair for what seemed an eternity.
"We don't have to fight." Muttered Garotan sadly.
"To bad." Said kodra, rotating and inspecting the weapon keenly by its red cloth grip. We came along way for exactly just that sort of thing to happen. And I'm not going to have you discover your humanity now of all times. I've waited along time for this and it's going to be perfect. Isn't that what you told my father? So you are going to do what you do best. And so will I.
The old silverback stepped one step forward. His hand raised outward trying to get through to him even if he knew it was never to be so.
I have done terrible things. I know this and have accepted it. And I deserve every conceivable punishment you can think of and will endure it gladly. But my child is nothing of the sort. She is innocent and unaware of what I am and what I have done. Let her go. And I shall gladly take her place. My proper place in hell. Should you take her from me though. Any of you. You will be there right beside me when we arrive.
A tempting offer but Oh no. Snarled Kodra with a sick grin across his face. Innocents are never innocent in your eyes. So they will not be in mine. The blood of millions is on your hands Garotan. And all you hold dear will suffer for it as I and my father's army have suffered. You. Butcher. Murder. Usurper. Have inflicted untold horrors and reduced our homeland to ruin. All while you and I are powerless to do anything about it. But tonight I can at least set one thing right once and for all in the name of justice for all you have killed. I can kill you.
The tiger Kodra. Stood using his Glaive for support and hastily jumped off the rock. Walking toward the gorilla kneeling in the snow like a coward.
Do you know who I am? Asked the tiger. The green warrior, then carefully positioned the tip of his blade to rest right under the cursed warlords chin, causing faint drops of blood to drip down the old mans silver bristled hair. Garotan hesitated before responding. Not flinching with his head held low in the truth of what he was about to say coming back to the surface after so many years of denial. The prince son of the Kashav Tarverum. The man..I butchered. You are prince Kodra Tarverum. True heir to the jade empire.
Wrong. Corrected Kodra. Giving a thumbs down and tapping the gorilla loudly atop his scarred helmet with his glaive. He knelt down further to be on his level and grabbed and tilted his chin to look him in the eye.
I am nothing.
My grandfather was emperor. And you killed him. You burned his body so there wasn't even anything to bury in our family crypt.
My father was an outlaw in your eyes yet still a prince. And you killed him still. I had to bury his remains in an empty unmarked field, unable to join our ancestors because of you.
And now it's my turn. But there is one difference..."
I am nothing. No prince. No ruler. Nothing. Nothing. Except a tool of vengeance for three generations of death and betrayal against my family thanks to you. Kodra released his iron grip and began to circle the kneeling silverback slowly and methodically. You thought you could be safe and forgotten all the way up here in this icy wasteland. Free and ignorant of the past and who you really are? Well I am here to give you a good solid reminder. You. Are not a good person. You are not a peaceful stonemason. You are a killer. Just like all of us. Only you chose to be. We all were forced to become one thanks to you. And thanks to your plots and scheming and crimes to end all others. Everything you have ever done has led to this moment at the very edge of the world with our home lost forever. And I will see to your end the way I see fit once and for all with you joining it in oblivion. And with your traitorous blood dripping across my glaive knowing you're daughter will soon follow next as the last victim of our war. My father's work at last complete in ridding the world of the scourge that is you. Prepare yourself. I certainly have. I have thought of nothing else but this moment for as long as I can remember hating. You were the first person I ever truely hated, and so you shall be the last.
Kashav raised his sharpened glaive forward ready to begin the act of vengeance he has craved for so many years.
Pick. Up. Your. Weapon.
Garotan stepped foward toward death. Unarmed.
I will not fight you. Kill me or torture me and be done with it. If you seek more ways to hurt me. Go ahead and find my son and former wife.
Nah. Said Kodra. That wouldn't hurt you. But This will. Smiled Kodra.
The tiger gestured one of his men and dragged out from behind the rock was Garotan's daughter. Bloodied and Beaten.
A look of pure fear and terror struck across Garotan's face at the sight of her rough on her knees before them all. And Kodra was all to happy to drink it in. He raised his glaive toward the bruised and battered hybrid daughter of a tyrant. Ready to give his final offer.
Fight. Or she dies.
Father!? She asked frantically. Who are these people!?? What's going on, where's mom!?
Tell her the truth. Smiled kashav. I think your own daughter deserves to know what kind of man you really are. He grabbed her by the ear and pulled her close. Allow me do the honors if you won't . The truth hurts. And this will hurt you more than anything I could ever accomplish. He smiled at Garotan as he began to whisper the words into his daughters ear, ready to turn her against him just like all the rest.
No one knows whether Kodra managed to tell the captive Kia the truth before the first blow was struck. Or who dealt it. For a great battle soon ensued from which only one survivor managed to flee and tell their version of the tale. Even more debate of this skirmish in the snow has turned into legend as to what happened to Garotan the great after the bloody brief battle that raged at the edge of the world lost to time. Some say he died shamed and butchered beside his daughter his past revealed and her hating and screaming at him with her dying breath. Others that he moved on victorious with or without her in some versions to some unknown region to live out the rest of their days hoping to never be found again. But that is not the tale we tell our children.
On cold winter nights, when the wind is at it's most unforgiving and the mist is heavy and cold in the night air of snow dusted mountains. A lone traveler might find themselves lucky or unlucky enough to briefly catch a glimpse of the legend many a man has said to have seen moving through the fog and deadly blizzard that follows him wherever he goes.
The hulking spectral figure of an armored skeletal silverback is said to have been seen shambling aimlessly, drudging through the deep frost coated valleys and dark forests, dragging a battered stained warhammer trailing a river of red behind its wake of destruction long since past through the snow. It's frost coated silversteel backside riddled with hundreds of glowing jade arrows and twisting choking thorn covered vines of pink snow flowers, coiling around the wraiths neck and limbs like chains twisting off and away from a wartorn decomposing tree, sickened to even be touching or related to something so foul. Rotted withered flesh as blue as the deepest darkest ice clinging to, patches of silver and black fur all stuck to the broken rusted armor having long since lost its fit. Lose metal ornaments jangling and shaking with each movement from his belt, exposed bones and ribs cracking and shifting apart with each long sad step only to be forced to come back together to keep the clambering metal shell going. And marred forever upon the cursed half rotten warrior's sad emotionless face above. A hideous and hellish red mask of blood spilled from his last victim. Who it belonged to, no one knows. Himself? The prince? His daughter? No one alive knows and one can only guess. But people know it's purpose and more importantly it's message. A final warning. Reminding him and other future tyrants who would seek ambition for ambitions sake the terrible cost that awaited them in the afterlife for harming any a innocent. And of the terrible cost to their soul. The red wraith still roams to this day. An eternal silent messenger, cursed to wander the north till the end of time to demonstrate to any who catch a glimpse what he truly was in the precious life he was gifted before. And the price he paid in full for misusing it as much as a man can after. Never able to remove the mask or his deeds done even in death, no matter how far he travels to escape it.
Shena and Naru sat apart from one another in silence.
Thats..quite a story. Muttered Shena from the flittering darkness of the torch between them.
I know. Replied Naru. Clutching tightly to his jade bow handed down from his heritage. Shena caught the action and coudn't help asking.
Naru.."
Hm.. he said holding tightly to a string on the weapon.
You mentioned that your great grandfather fought in the jade wars. Am I mistaken?
You are not. He was an archer, and an assasin. And proud of it.
Shena hesitated before asking the question. Her eye locked on his century old bow.
Which side did he fight for?
Naru did not hesitate even for a moment.
He fought for Garotan.
The two sat in a long silence.
Do you think more or less of me now? Smiled Naru.
Sorry. Shena turned away embarrassed. I shouldn't have asked that.
Why? Asked Naru. I have nothing to hide about my heritage. I know what he was. A soldier who fought for a cause, that while I do not agree with, respect. We don't choose our heritage or the family we belong to. Naru handed Shena the bow gently for her to examine.
We can only make do with what we are given in life from the day we are born as.
Shena couldn't help but nod in agreement.
Believe me...
I know the feeling.