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by C. Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Other · Fantasy · #2034567
The Broken King returns vastly changing the world of Ereshkigal.
The Sorrow of the Broken King.




         Deep within the mountainous region near a small fishing village, a group of cloaked men began a pilgrimage into the mountain cave until a large tomb stopped their trek. One of the cloaked men removed a tube-like object from the inner pockets of his cloak which caused the sealed stone door to glow a dark, blood-orange until the opening was revealed to all of the people on the journey. Once the group gathered inside the tomb, a young woman with amber colored flowing hair seated herself on one of the burial sights with a large curved blade in her possession. She began cutting herself ever so gently until her blood dripped onto the ground in a small pool beneath her feet. The thin, grey haired man who opened the tomb was stood in front of a large burial pillar smearing his own blood over the pillar until the ground rattled with a boisterous passion, but ceased after three minutes. The pillars & burial tombs crackled with life from the dead men inside who appeared in gruesome ways, yet retained all of the traits that plagued them when life still flowed within their veins.

         The dead man within the larger pillar stepped out with half a face staring back at the cloaked individuals who freed him from the chains of death. His hair was mangled, missing chunks of hair in the middle of his head, while his face was barely in-tact except for the dark eyes that made him stand with a intimidating presence beneath everyone else. The grey haired man bowed on one of his knees, raising up a larger, sharper curved handled blade for his boney, decayed hands to grab from which he did. Others in the grey cloaks took a knee as well until the only people left upright were the seven dead men who proceeded to slaughter every less member except the grey haired man, who stood back up once his people laid on the ground with blood oozing from their mortal wounds. He was allowed to live by the orders of the dead men's leader. His voice was raspy and almost inaudible to his old ears, but he made out everything he said with crystal clear hearing.

"You have done well my child. I thank you for our return to this world and shall repay the debt."


         His ghoulish hands embraced the older man's head and a large, white glowing light emitted itself around his body until it was finished. The man was now younger in appearance with his hair colored back to it's younger brown hue and his face was tighter, along with his body being nimbler and that of a young warriors. He bowed his head once more in allegiance to the newfound king of the dead. The ghouls gathered up belongings of the dead followers, cloaking their faces before leaving through the tomb's exit. The king stayed back for a moment, gathering his old armor that rested in his tomb where his body once lied. The armor was ebony colored with gold stripes going up the left chest plate while the helm resembled a broken skeleton face that was also of the same ebony color. He marched out of the tomb, his armor clinging with every step until he sealed the tomb with a swipe from his enameled cladded left hand, not taking a look back at the fate he just escaped from.

Four Months of Sorrow.


         The villages underneath the mountain were the first places to crumble under the invasion of the broken men where they proceeded to pillage, assault, and imprison the innocence villagers who occupied them. The king of the broken skull transformed the men he felt were of great strength into his own warriors, they died for moments until they entered back into the world looking like ghouls with dead, red eyes in place of the natural ones before. He continued forming an army through villages until the large fortress city of Tolliver's Bluff fell under his reign. The months following the return of this menace saw people fall to the hands of a forced death or become slaves for the growing army to use and abuse until they were shells of their former selves. One of the citizens inside the city, Jon managed to escape the gates before the men sealed them off once the king's needs were met. He ran as fast as his feet could allow until a tiny hut would be his resting place for the night that was slowly following. His tan skinned appearance matched the shaggy brown mane of hair he grew out and the beard on his face made him look like a lowly commoner, alas Jon was an ample fighter when the time called for it, but he wasn't going to lose his life over a battle he knew would be one sided. He would have to leave this hut soon if he would gather assistance to save his city from better soldiers in the next larger city across the drowning sea of Nearos; The Death Keep. The keep was a ruthless city under the tutelage of Walder Stonebridge, but he could very well be the key to pushing back the king of the broken men.

         Back inside the walls of Tolliver's Bluff, the king sat atop the formers throne of fine velvet and gold to overlook his vastly populated army who kneeled in unison at his whim. The great hall of the king was decorated in a glorious fashion which now turned into black walls and decaying features. The entire keep of the king grew into a dark place once this sorrow crept inside until Tolliver's Bluff transformed into the dead king's stomping grounds. He smiled at his work, but his face still remained horrible to look at and the smile was half bone and tattered flesh.

         Jon gathered his senses while he mourned the loss of his home inside the city behind the walls once he noticed the large black crows flying overhead gawking in a form of togetherness near the now black palace of the king. He stumbled near the crossroads leading to the villages and the next town before trekking in the right direction where a nobleman was letting his horse feed in the field adjacent to where he stood. His broadsword rested on a mossy, cracked log when Jon walked by. The nobleman's slicked hair, dark clothing, and scarred face gave him a distinct look of mysteriousness to which he looked Jon over with pale blue eyes. "Best get a move on boy." Jon itched his tan cheek, walking hastily at this point away from the man. A few dead warriors now garbed in armor with swords & axes in their hands came bolting down the crossroads leaving Jon in a paralyzed state of fear and he was weaponless since all of his belongings sat inside his house.

         The broadsword swung down from behind Jon as the mysterious man sliced into one of the warriors with minimal effort until the head of this ghastly foe parted ways with his own shoulders. Jon picked up the short, stumped axe from the decapitated soldier to aid this savior in finishing off the remaining patrols in hopes he could catch a ship across the Nearos sea. Metal clang upon metal as the scarred man took down another soldier after a heavy back-and-fourth of sword on sword to which he was cut below his left cheek before fatally stabbing his broadsword into the chest of the huskier, broad shouldered dead man. Jon was having trouble defending himself from the last attacker, hacking off one of arms in the ensuing fight before he was dispatched by the more experienced fighter. "Told you things would be getting ugly." Bleeding from his face, the slender nobleman extended his hand out for Jon to shake. "Really should brush up on that sword play boy." The man wouldn't give his name, but he agreed to stick together with Jon if he could get him out to the sea.

         Near the harbor of Tolliver's Bluff the patrols of the dead soldiers hadn't reached past the crossroads so the window of taking a ship out of the bay to head west were highly capable if Jon & his new found ally could get through the next town of Moros with all of their limbs still attached to their bodies. "Why don't you have a name?" Jon's curiosity was striking a nerve with the man who just shrugged his narrow shoulders with each step, his broadsword clanked around it's sheath. "I don't have a name. My mother died, my father was a drunkard. Happy now?" The scar on his face made Jon think of an old friend he lost in a great blaze of sweeping fire when he was just a boy; Barrett. Jon decided that was what he would call him before they enviably parted ways. Barrett shoved Jon behind a few sturdy oak trees while his finger pointed to a slew of resting soldiers and normal folk being hung up from one of the houses on the outskirts of Moros. Barrett gruffly lowered his sword to the ground, choosing that his ash-colored dagger would be stealthy on the quest to move through the king's dead.

         Jon was dragged along carefully behind Barrett while the screams of tortured people began eating at his conscience causing his feet to stop moving. "What are you doing boy? We must move!" Barrett's hushed breaths were almost too loud as he tried pulling Jon with his own steps. "We have to save these people. They are us." Barrett shook his head in rage until he knew somewhere in that bitterness he held inside that this stupid boy was smarter then he seemed. "If I get impaled saving these fools, you'll the first I drag to the next world." They ducked through a nearby blacksmith's house to get a better look at the soldiers in the area.

         They both began silently snapping the necks of the dead men they could get the jump on until a few screams brought the attention of six heavily armored soldiers who didn't take prisoners due to one of the men carrying a still dripping head by the hair in their right deceased hands. Barrett quickly caught the falling axe heading towards his face with a fast tackle until the dagger he carried found its way into the left eye of the ugly looking insurgent. Jon tried taking on a smaller, scrawny soldier only to be struck in the chest by a sword in a diagonal swipe that left him reeling on the soft grassy dirt. Barrett saw him hit the ground and managed to kill the perpetrator before he pulled Jon out of the fire; taking the boy to safer ground. "You stupid noble boy! I told you... I.." Jon carried his weight on the shoulder of Barrett as the harbor was plainly in view. "The Death Keep... Walder..." The boy passed out from his loss of blood until he went lifeless in Barrett's arms. He knew getting away from the death & destruction wouldn't happen anytime soon so his next step was crossing the Nearos. Jon's corpse was carefully lowered into the shallow grave dugout by Barrett and he lightly tossed the dirt back upon his body. Ships still sat in the harbor but no captains kept housing near the port when he carefully came through the wooden walkway near the light blue water.

The Death Keep.


         Walder Stonebridge was a bastard who knew his origins yet he dragged himself to the top with his kingship on the island where the Death Keep now rested with an intimating look for whatever ship managed to survive crossing the Nearos see. His hazel colored pupils viewed the subjects who rested easily in his kingdom while he was unaware of the dead king's rise back to the world until a carrier raven dropped the news into a messengers lap. After the news broke, he made the keep raise every defense in it's lucrative arsenal just incase the king's reach could penetrate the sea. Walder wasn't a psychically imposing man with a short, round stature and average looks that gleamed with reflections from both parents he hated. Stonebridge was a clever man though managing to overtake grand riches through stupid people buying into scams he was running that dealt in plots of land that weren't his. The Keep was heavily guarded throughout the day by watchers high up in the three towers overlooking every direction of the free waters along with several spikes sticking up through the mouth of the Keep's entrance incase slavers decided breaking in was an intelligent decision. One of his guards blew the horn alerting the entire structure to an arriving ship that was unidentifiable. The nimble vessel carefully guided itself through the spikes, dropping anchor right near the docks. The crew remained on board once the hooded man dressed in black garb greeted himself to the guards. The man's brown hair, chiseled jaw, and beady grey eyes were the same as that of the older man who unshackled the dead king from his slumber months prior. "I'm here to see Stonebridge." The same raspy voice remained in tact, the guards stripped him of his weapons and he was escorted inside the keep with a large smirk taped onto his face.

         Gregor carefully studied the entrance of the Death's Keep before entering the bowels of the grand hall so if it came down to escaping by the skin of his teeth, he'd take all of Walder's men with him into the depths. Walder was unimpressed by the intruder until he could make out the man's identity. "Gregor? What type of black magic be this youth?" Gregor sat in a small chair while a cup bearer filled a glass with wine of fresh berries and grapes. "I'm sure you can figure out the how." The crisp wine flowed down his throat with ease with Walder puzzled by his trip to his fortress. "Why are you here then? Should you be with your king now?" Sitting his wooden goblet on the fine table of oak wood, Gregor removed a scrap of parchment from his wet cloak. "I've been sent here for this." His eyes grew heavy with fear when the image on the parchment came into a clearer view. "That hasn't been here for years my now younger friend. A collector took it up north into the hills." Gregor frowned but continued to drink from his goblet. "Then we have a journey to plan if you wanna keep this kingdom and your life."

Back in Tolliver's Bluff.


         Still wrapping his head around the boy he barely knew dying in battle, Barrett was sitting on a small, creaky ship inside the gallows with a few other men and one woman sitting in the back. The woman kept to herself while the others swapped stories about their escapes from the dead men during the day. Barrett took a seat beside the woman; a delicate featured lass with a head of golden hair tucked underneath a makeshift hook of leather and stitching. Her eyes didn't look at Barrett once when he took a chair beside her. "I'm not here to chat with the pigs." He laughed, folding his arms across his broad chest. "Just sitting here lass. Don't remove my head just yet." Gwendoline watched her husband get cut in half by the dead king's general before she hauled herself away to the safety of this ship in hopes she could evade the same fate. She felt the necklace around her thin neck and was instantly reminded of his warm embrace yet she had to be cold, bitter, and alone now in order to survive the changed world. She wasn't prone to using violence but looking at Barrett dosing off beside her made the wheels in her sharp mind turn with an idea that maybe this degenerate could teach her if he didn't try assaulting her beforehand. The Chalice floated over the churning blackish waters until the crashing waves picked up with a higher degree of violence that awoke Barrett from his slumber. "We've already reached Nearos?" Gwendoline patted his shoulder with a sarcastic resolve. "It's not as bad as one would think."

         Before the Chalice could move another inch through the rougher waves, a larger ship began an assault from the Northside of the vessel until a large claw hook came breaking through it's hull. Barrett, Gwendoline, and the other three men of different complexions felt the cool breeze of the wind and could feel the rain coming down on their faces. Slavers dressed in rags of green & white cloth trailed along the wire attaching both ships with an art form of balance until the group was overran by these cretins of the sea. Barrett dropped his swords before brushing Gwendoline behind his back. "No use in running now." Gwendoline was freaking out on the inside at this new threat piled onto of the greater evil. The head slaver, a very malnourished looking man with heavy burn marks across his face hissed at his men in another language to which the even uglier group of slavers hooked Barrett, Gwen, and any other person aboard in chains. The captain of the Chalice was removed from the helm and strapped with heavy shakes to the base of the crow's next. They escorted the new slaves across into their heavily plated vessel but made each one face the Chalice until it was destroyed by a grand explosion. Screams evoked Barrett's ears and the visual of the captain burning in agony made his stomach drop. They dropped them into a large man-made pit in the center of the hull and changed course for the slaver city of Kharleenus.

         Kharleenus, the largest and maybe the only slaver city on the Nearos sea near the edges of the common kingdoms. The population inside the city without walls largely consisted of slave masters, their children, and large areas where stock could be traded among noblemen & women. Gwendoline was separated when the group pushed them off the vessel, the crisp hot air smacked her in the face once a large gust of wind swatted it in her direction. Slavers watched her being escorted with cruel intentions stirring beneath their disgusting facial features that could burn a hole through the most fragile of women. Barrett and the men shuffled into a large, oval styled cage in the back of the large shopping area while Gwen became hosted by a long dreaded man sporting marks on his left arm, while his right eye was covered by a strip of leather. He pushed Gwen into an enclosed space where she met other women with stifling looks of terror on their light faces.

"Not everyday you run into a lady from the common kingdoms." The dreaded man leaned beside a post, flopping his dirty strands of locks away from his face. He stood out from the other slavers she ran into before coming into his care due to his fair looks and strong physique except for some missing teeth, Gwen thought this man could of been a commoner before shifting into the role of a slaver.

"My name is Daero. They (the ladies) will tell you my name is master to you."

Gwendoline was ordered to undress by Daero in order to throughly scan the new stock. She hesitated before giving into the demands, dropping her garments to the floor leaving no part of flesh uncovered. Daero clapped his taped, rough hands together in amusement.

"You'll sell fast my dear. Why was a commoner near the sea of Nearos?" His hands fell to his side while his ears perked up once Gwen divulged the information of the dead king being brough back into the world. The foreign words executed from Daero's mouth seemed to be that of a prayer before he grabbed Gwen by her naked arm. "The slave king will want to hear this." She was allowed to dress back into her clothing before Daero began the walk towards the large castle of fresh red brick that loomed into the horizon of the slaver city. Barrett's fate inside the cage came to her mind once the castle was in arms reach.

         "Savages. The bloody pack of 'em." Barrett was thrown tattered garb to change into once he assimilated into the population occupying the oval cage for passerby slavers to gawk at like animals on display. Barrett still thought about Jon and the selfness he saw in a stranger that stuck to his very core for an unknown reason. He saw a plethora of other men inside the cage, some older men looked to be on the way into the afterlife while a few young children played with each other in a display of unawareness to the nasty fate awaiting them if a slaver gobbled them up from this prison. "New arrival?" A man with the same height approached Barrett in a friendly demeanor. His muscular arms, gaunt facial structure, and short abysmal hair gave him away as a king's guard or a soldier in the eyes of the newly imprisoned Barrett.

"I've been in this cage roughly two passes of the seasons. Wouldn't be easy to tell when they change, yet I know when a year passes."

"You from the common kingdoms? Have that look about you." Patting his almost bald head with a jolly laugh, his meaty hand slapped Barrett playfully on the back. Samuel Thurny greeted himself to Barrett with shady body language that gave away his former position as a thief within the even shadier town of Pointe Hollow. Samuel wouldn't divulge how he ended up a slave, however like any thief of his skill was planning an exit. He had a whole year to do so.

"Maybe something of value can ease my mind about takin' you with me." Slavers prodded the cage door open & greeted the stock to an average looking trader with a snobbish appearance who was dressed in a fine silk shirt covered in shiny, glimmering tiny red rubies embroiled into the material.


Valley of the giants, North of Tolliver's Bluff.


         Gregor admired his new youthful appearance inside an Inn near the path upwards into the mountain of the damned. Walder and a slew of his guards made the month long voyage with Gregor until the Inn seemed like a resting place for the out of shape bastard lord.

         "The debt must be paid." Gregor shook his head during a round of fresh berry wine trying to shake the voice crawling around his head. He wobbled the goblet in his right hand, trembling after the voice grew louder. Walder was sat in the corner like a pouting child seeing that he was forced on this expedition and the thoughts of being away from his keep made his head flow with negative thoughts on what could occur without safety of the walls. He watched Gregor from afar near his men enjoying the wine which made his distain for the forced journey sting even more.

"The debt must be PAID." Gregor felt a sting rush across his body and end up his right arm causing his goblet to fall on the plank table until the red wine spread over the sprawling table like blood. He lifted his covered right arm to make sure he was still whole from the king's power and what was underneath his arm now made him realize his new found youth could be ripped away in an instance. He saw the black veins going downward on his right arm that caused him to jerk his garment over the conflicted area of flesh.
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