\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1266955-Revolution-Chapter-III
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
by Ghost Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Other · Other · #1266955
REvolution Continues
Deskel woke suddenly to the morning alarm, he sat up quickly and scanned his surroundings, and he shook himself in an attempt to clear the last remaining bits of sleep from his head. He didn't remember having fallen asleep the night before, and his mind was groggy due to lack of rest. He had spent the whole night planning the next days events out meticulously in his head, over and over again until he could account for every action and word.

He pivoted on his bed and allowed his feet to hang over the edge as he watched the others begin their morning routine. Deskel felt wired and excited, he couldn't remember ever feeling this way, and his mind was full of practiced conversations, this morning was different, this morning things were going to change, this morning he was going to speak with the Deglians.

Reaching under his bed he retrieved the worn bag lodged under its frame as he had done many times before, he removed a pendant necklace, but for the first time ever he looped the cord around his neck, and with a feeling of pride he slowly settled the pendant against the crème colored fur of his chest. He grinned imagining the effect it might have on the Deglians surely they would recognize it and it was more important than just some childhood relic, he was sure of it. He replaced the bag and turned back to the room, half expecting the others to notice his change, none did. The siren whined and they lined up at the door, he was practically bursting with energy and unknowingly was rocking back and forth on his feet.

"Its just the same breakfast as every morning" Jorak muttered from behind him.

Deskel couldn't help but smile, keeping his body and attention ahead he responded, "Its not the food I'm looking forward to".

"Then you must do a far different kind of work than the rest of us" Jorak said.

Deskel just smiled to himself as the door swung open and the Dwarrels led the way out into line, the typical assortment of workers made their way down the long twisting tunnels towards the central chambers, after they moved past the last row of sleeping quarters the lines began to slow and Deskel could hear shouting farther down. He sighed, another brawl at the food lines, it would be even longer before breakfast, they might not get any at all which would ruin his plan, he thought darkly.

But then suddenly the rows were reversing as slaves came running back up the tunnels away from the mess hall, more shouts, followed by sizzling noises accompanied with the smell of burnt fur, and then the shouts turned to screams. Deskel froze, confused, his mind struggled to comprehend what was happening, and his stomach seemed to fall to his feet while his body refused to respond, as slaves pushed into him, shouldering him aside in frantic attempts to flee. Silurians were forming a semi-circle behind the slaves blocking them from retreating, forcing them back down the tunnel as fast as they could run up, harmlessly at first but as the group swelled forward the force pikes came out, and flashes began to accent the short sharp shouts of pain.

Deskel suddenly found his control and began pushing himself further down the tunnel, trying to see what was causing the riot, he pushed against what seemed to be an endless river of people all headed the opposite way.

Deskel finally reached the landing outside of the mess, and was startled to see a large group of silurians encircling a mix of slaves, pushing, shoving, stabbing at them with pikes and short blades, the slaves were trying to fight back, many of them had injuries and three lay underfoot openly bleeding. One athletic Sciuri jumped high over the heads of the silurians, clearing the melee in a single bound. She landed and fled up the hallway towards Deskel, as more slaves pushed each other around forming a mob of scared individuals trying to find their way out of a closing net. Deskel watched in horror as a bloodbath commenced his eyes darted from one death to another, a Silurian knelt and darted forward with his weapon, cleaving a Dwarrel down the center of its body, the same Silurian came up in a languid spin that lazily sent his weapon over his head to strike a grevelian that was running past him in the back of the neck. Deskel was still trying to force his way closer as he watched slave after slave fall to the ground, his vision became hard, he stopped feeling his heart beat and he sub-consciously felt his claws force their way out as his fingers splayed, increasing the spread of his built in weapons.

His stomach dropped and his mouth went dry as he saw his friend Squint pushed into the circle of brutal warriors, Squints eyes were wide with fear and he attempted to break for an opening, he was caught by the back of his neck by a big warriors open hand, knocking him to the ground. Deskel roared and started pushing forward even harder, knocking his fellow workers out of the way, stumbling as he neared the edge of the ring. The warrior that had knocked Squint down knelt next to him, the silurian was large, even by his peoples standards, he wore feathers in his mane and they dragged on the ground as he lowered his head to Squints ear. Time seemed to slow as he watched in terrible detail the warrior's lips part and whisper some words to his friend, he watched his comrade’s eyes open wide and scramble on all fours reaching for freedom. Deskel forced his way closer to the circle, screaming at the warrior to stop, shouting Squints name telling him to hit back, to run, to do anything!


The slow motion feeling continued as he watched a small knife clear the Silurians sheath, the sharp edge glinting as it drew closer to the grevelians scarred eye, then with a sudden return to the fast paced movement of the crowd the knife plunged into Squints eye, Deskel reached his hand out and let out a terrible half roar half scream as he pushed through the last throng of slaves and grabbed onto the back of a silurians helmet, pulling back on the upper part of its head he reached around and drug his claw across the tender spot on its neck, he felt warmth on his hands as he dropped the guards choking body to the ground.

He moved faster than he had ever moved before, he became a part of the fight. His blood pumping in rhythm to the rise and fall of weapons, his vision narrowed, focusing only on the ensuing battle, blocking anything and everything irrelevant out. His opened his jaws wide and roared as he leapt into another guard, his feet landed squarely on the silurians chest, riding him to the ground, he bared his teeth as another Silurian turned towards him, surprise evident in its eyes.

The Silurian raised his force pike, as Deskel charged him. The pike came down at an astonishing speed, and Deskel was forced to dart to his left as the pikes business end crashed into the ground, he placed his foot on the weapons shaft, shoving the blade into the earth and used it to push himself off the ground as he met the warrior head on. He sank his teeth into the silurians soft neck, feeling blood blossom under his chin he the smelled the slight saltiness of it on his nose, the Silurian released the pike, desperately beating at his attackers sides with both fists.

Deskel grappled at the silurians waist, scrambling to unclip the dagger secured there, the two struggling creatures went down in a tumble, Deskel succeeded with the blade, pulled it high in the air while straddling the toppled guard, the silurian raised his arm in an attempt to deflect an attack, Deskel's thoughts were filled with hatred and saliva dripped from his mouth as he screamed and stabbed the razor sharp edge into the guards arm, and in a mad rage pulled it out and repeated the stab again and again, releasing his anger into the warrior, his vision went red as he repeatedly butchered the fallen Silurian, Deskel felt his energy ebbing and he forced himself to stop, leaving the daggers hilt standing up in the silurians chest.

He stood up quickly then rolled to his side as a force pike was swung at him, he grabbed up a pike laying on the ground dropped by a guard that no longer had a need for it and swung without looking, he was satisfied with a solid chest hit on a silurian than was just running into the battle. The blow sent the silurians feet up out from under him as his body dropped to the ground, a pikes energy blade exposing his shattered ribs. Deskel slipped on a spilled puddle of blood as he tried to grab another pike stuck in the ground, as his head hit the packed and already red stained soil he found himself face to face with a grevelian, but this grevelian he knew, and its right eye was covered by the hilt of a dagger. Deskel let out a sob as he reached over to touch Squints motionless face. His empty staring left eye seemed to beg for rescue, as if his friend was not really dead, just trapped somewhere outside of his body.

He roared and pushed himself off the ground, standing up he slashed at a Silurian, opening four long gashes down its back, and then reaching around opened his throat as well. He stalked forward as the battle raged around him, he stomped on the end of a force pike, sending it spinning in the air, he caught it as it fell and spun it behind him, slashing a silurians upraised arm clean through at the elbow, Deskel turned and finished him off with a jab of the weapon to the guards face. Deskel pulled the weapon up, and dropped to one knee, narrowly avoiding a pike swinging through the air his head had just occupied.

He stabbed the pike forward burning into the stomach of a charging Silurian; Deskel dropped the pike, leaving the opponent standing, propped up by the handle of his weapon. As he walked past the slain enemy he reached over and pulled the guards short blade off his belt, rolling it over his hand he reverse gripped the blade just in time to block an attack from his left, he parried the assault and on the upswing of his weapon hooked the blade into the silurians lower stomach, and tore a gruesome gash all the way up to the neck.

Deskel turned as he heard shouts, and then muffled explosions and chattering noises, new silurians coming into the melee, silurians with full armor, and ranged weapons. Just then, in the moment it took for him to remember to breathe he felt a searing pain in his leg, and looked down noticing the open wound there, then as if suddenly awaking from a dream he realized he was hurt in many places, cuts, slashes, bruises and a couple serious looking injuries covered his body. His head felt light and he could see his blood oozing in some places, squirting little streams with each heart beat in others.

His grip on the sword weakened and he vaguely perceived it hitting the ground, so much blood, blood on his hands, blood on his face, in his mouth, blood everywhere. He tasted its faint metallic bite, smelled the pain in it, felt its warmth on his skin, Deskel realized to himself he was beginning to pass out, he fought for his consciousness as he watched as a pack of slaves ambush and bring down one of the armored Silurians, he saw a grevelian kneeling on the ground trying to hold his stomach together. There were slaves crawling on the ground screaming and crying, he saw severed limbs and their owners twitching on the ground, eyes glazing over.

An impact hit his shoulder, making him stumble backwards at first, then he lost his balance and toppled over feeling as though he had the breath knocked out of him, with disbelief he felt the entry wound and realized he had been shot, a solid piece of metal was buried just under his skin.

Deskel was slowly blacking out, but before he did he watched the Silurian that had shot him with a riot gun draw close and lean over to look at him, he sneered and leveled the barrel at Deskels head, but he never got a chance to fire. All of a sudden there were two ghosts in the battle. Two swirling figures darting in and out of the combat, seemingly dancing, unscathed, whirlwinds of motion with blades of steel, everywhere they appeared a Silurian dropped to the ground, Deskel smiled and looked back to the gunner.

"You guys are so dead" he choked out past the rivulets of blood running out of his mouth.

The gunner standing over him looked back at Deskel, then drew his weapon to his left, taking aim at one of the swirling figures, Deskel tried to cry out but his voice wouldn't work. Before the Silurian could fire, a Deglian materialized on him, Deskel watched in disbelief as the Deglian athletically swung under his weapon, leaving a jagged piece of metal stuck in the silurians inner thigh, the Deglian then hooked a foot onto the silurians utility belt and wrapped her other leg around the gunners neck, and as the silurian fell, the Deglian warrior wrenched her leg around, breaking the gunners neck before he hit the ground. The Deglian scooped up the firearm and immediately discharged two shots into two onrushing silurians, both of them dropped as their faces turned to grim parodies of their formal selves, and the backs of their heads exploded outwards, leaving spatters of gore and fragments of bone showering the ground. Deskel choked again and reached a bloodied hand out to her, The Deglian looked down at him, shaking her head she said "Sorry, no time for wounded" and turned to walk away

"Wuh-wai-wait, look, symbol..." he tried to say more but that was all he could manage before he had to roll to his side and spit up a nasty mouthful of blood.

The Deglian stopped and spun around, looking distracted her eyes followed Deskels shaking outstretched hand to the object being held out for her inspection. Her eyes opened wide as the warrior focused on the pendent, keeping the rifle and her attention pointed up, she reached an outstretched hand, Deskel took it and allowed himself to be pulled up.

“We saw you take down a couple of those Silurians, you have a warriors spirit, but not the training” the Deglian said as she tore strips of fabric from her baggy earth colored tunic. “You fought with anger, and while it can make for a ready ally, you must lay it aside the fight effectively” she chided as she wrapped the makeshift bandage around his shoulder wound. Deskel felt somewhat offended by her words, but all he did was nod.

"Are you fit to walk? Run?"

Deskel nodded, "I don't know, maybe.... I think I can walk, my shoulder…"

"That will have to wait, because were about to leave"

The Silurians were being forced away as the throngs of slaves, led by a Deglian and several grevelians armed with stolen pikes, blades, firearms and even rocks were pushing the guards farther up the tunnels. The Deglian looked down at Deskel, "My name is Osho, commander of the Haze insurgent forces, Intel told us that this would be a lucrative liberation, we’re here to get you and as many of them out as possible". She waved her hand at the masses of slaves.

"Me? But...I...me?" Deskel sputtered while trying to wipe froth and blood from his lips. Sampling the use of his legs, he winced in pain as he tried to stand straight up, putting all his weight on his damaged leg.

"Here let me see your wound", the Deglian slung her captured weapon onto her shoulder and knelt to examine a slash on his ankle, the one that was forcing him to stand awkwardly hunched over.

"Well we didn't know if it was you or not, but a grevelian of the Monorian line was rumored to be enslaved here, and" she pointed to his pendant "looks like that’s you". She spoke nonchalantly while examining his injuries with precision.

He looked at her as the Deglian had just sprouted horns, "What?"

"Does this hurt?" she asked while pushing two fingers into a wound above his stomach, Deskels head swam as the pain intensified. She noticed his reaction and ceased the probing "You have at lest a few ribs broken there" she said pointing towards his chest "and a torn ligament in your calf, you won't be running anytime soon".

She stood and smiled down at him, "Don't worry all will be explained in time, and your not going to be left behind".

His head was clearing, his thoughts becoming solidified; he was beginning to pick apart the conversation as the topics jumped from one place to the next. He was becoming painfully aware of the aches and bruises of his brief brush with combat, which was complicating his thinking. "Now what are we going to do?" Deskel asked nervously glancing back to watch the slaves force the silurians up the tunnel, knowing that advantage would not last long.

"Now, the hard part" her eyes glimmered as if anticipating the challenge "Now we go to the surface".

Deskels heart leapt from his damaged chest to his throat "Are your serious?"

The Deglian grinned, her fangs protruding slightly, "well we can't stay here, now come on, there’s allot of work ahead, can you keep up?"

"Yes" Deskel set his chin, this was his chance without even having to follow his thought out plan, he was leaving this place, but his friend Squint was not. His heart felt as though someone had squeezed it suddenly, his mind returned to his friend’s merry demeanor. He imagined Squint would have something entertaining to say right about now, something about Deskel always getting beat up, a joke about Deskel saving him, somehow turning it around so that Squint was the hero, his eyes shining with good humor. But that hadn't happened, Deskel had not been fast enough, he hadn't fought hard enough, just like when his mother died.

He gritted his teeth and immediately directed his attention to following Osho, he refused to wander down that mental path, he refused to think of his mothers death, he would make it up for Squint, he knew he could find the feathered silurian, and avenge his friends death. And he would make it out of here alive, for all of the ones lying on the ground that wouldn't.

The miss-matched group of bloodied workers had managed to push the retreating silurians all the way past the slave quarters and behind a large gate that blocked the tunnel, the slaves had sealed off the gate with a heavy metal latch, and damaged the hinges so even if the latch was cut, it wouldn’t swing open easily.

For a moment Dajra, a Deglian warrior stood motionless at the front of the group, then slowly with a grin breaking across his face he turned and raised his weapon high roaring a wordless battle cry and it was immediately picked up by his new soldiers, the tunnel erupted into ecstatic bodies, fists and weapons were pumped in the air as the victory cry echoed down to where Osho and an injured and confused grevelian stood.

Osho glanced at Deskel "We won this battle, but the silurians only retreated because they know they can seal off the mine, and wait for us at the top with reinforcements".

"Then how are we going to get out, I mean if they just sit up there with an army we can't get out through the top, can we dig another way out?"

"No, it would take to long, the silurians would become impatient quickly, and send their soldiers down here en masse, I have another plan".

"Does it involve huge fights? Because I don't think I'm up to that just yet,” Deskel said half jokingly, trying to force a smile.

"No, at least not for us"

"What do you mean 'not for us'?"

"You'll see, for now just concentrate on keeping up, if you need help just let me know".

And with that the Deglian took off jogging towards her companion and the rest of the slaves making their way triumphantly down into the cavern. Deskel began after her, careful not to put too much weight on his injured leg, using his tail to push into the ground and help support some of his body, moving along at a limp.

"Deskel!" his name was shouted from the group of slaves milling about on the landing, respectfully moving bodies to the side and covering them with cloaks and whatever fabric they had extra.

A Muscath shot out of the crowd and darted towards him, Deskel put his hand up to ward off a leaping hug, Melo slowed down as she approached. She brought her tiny hand to her mouth, as she looked his battered body up and down.

"Are you all right?" she asked while approaching him slowly, carefully examining the red stained rags that seemed to hold him together.

"Yeah, I guess" he shrugged, "Still kicking" he lowered his eyes and his voice, "Unlike Squint".

Melo's face went long, and her eyes began to water over "how?"

"He died fighting, a big Silurian with feathers, uhm his bad eye, Melo I tried to get to him, I did, but I.... I mean I fought so hard, I killed them, the silurians, but not the one...there was a crowd and then Squint, I mean he..." his voice choked and he lowered his head, not wanting his diminutive friend to see him weep.

Melo reached out a hand and settled it on the top of his own, "Its ok Des, hey come on, I know you tried, I saw you get some of those guys, I've never seen anyone fight like that, its ok, look we won".

Deskel sniffled as he smiled, and raised his eyes to Melo's "Yeah we sure did, and now we go topside, surface, with sky and everything".

Melo nodded silently and turned back to gesture to the group of soon to be liberated slaves, "We should join them, do you need help?"

"I'm fine"

The pair worked their way back around to the group, Melo led him along the easiest paths and they were moving through the group in minutes. The two Deglians stood off to the side discussing something unheard and pointing in different directions, making gestures Deskel couldn’t quite translate.

Osho turned to the group and walked over to stand on a large jutting stone that protruded off the ground near the edge of the landing.

"Hello my friends, I apologize for the situation in which we are forced to meet but my name is Osho, my companions name is Dajra.” She paused for a moment then continued

“I am the commander of a military force that specializes in covert and special operations, my group belongs to an organization known as the Deglian Resistance Army." She took a second to scan the gathered group before continuing "Our goal here was to free you from your masters, today’s demonstration is a perfect example of why these monsters need to be stopped, this same ‘example’ was made today at over thirty mines, we were only able to stop it at one". She let this information sink in as the workers murmured back and forth to each other.

"My kind have been fighting the Silurians for over twenty years, ever since they came to our land, and killed or enslaved my people pushing us to the edge of extinction!" Her voice bounced off the earthen walls and Deskel felt his heart quicken, his pulse matching the emphasis of her words. "Yet here I am, still fighting the enemy, my presence alone is testimony to the fact that we are a voice that can be heard! Like you, we started as a whisper, but with your help we can grow to a shout that will wake the emperor in his sleep, that will shake the walls of his fortress, that will remind them that we are still here!" Her body was animated now as she paced back and forth gesturing with each powerful word, Deskel glanced around at the three hundred or so slaves around him, every eye was on this Deglian as she shouted her convictions.

"I invite you" Her pointed finger scanned over the assembled people "to join me in this battle cry, to stand beside me on foreign and familiar battlefields and draw blades, to stand together from horizon to horizon and stand in defiance of his blind indifference and cruelty, to ride ladders up to his city walls and remind him that we are still fighting!" As she screamed the last sentence out a cheer erupted from the group as fists were raised in a salute to her heart felt speech, hundreds of voices shouted and their cry was deafening. Osho was trembling with energy as she looked over the group waiting for the noise to subside, as it faded she looked out over them with her chin held high, and weapon upraised "Then follow me to your freedom!"
© Copyright 2007 Ghost (kahleelah at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1266955-Revolution-Chapter-III