[suib0m]

Demon's Lap

Demon's Lap... Once again the gathered crowd was stunned to silence. Many glanced at each other and then looked around the room, wide eyes and slack jawed, trying to confirm that they were not the only ones shocked by the information. The Demon's Lap was situated deep within Prime Roots in an area referred to as the Forbidden Depths. A Fyros explorer was once quoted to have said that traveling to the Forbidden Depths was akin to sliding down a pole of jagged blades; you tend to move very fast, sometimes you get stuck, and, by the time you've reached your destination, you've been ripped to shreds. Others have claimed that hidden deep within the Demon's Lap is a gateway to hell itself, guarded by the Dragon's children.

“Please, we need every Homins to meet us there,” Daeronn broke the silence. “However, for some of you. this means a journey on foot. We ask of one Homin present to guide the other who need to get there. Will any of you be brave enough to lead?”

“The Zoraï Guardians are at your command Daeronn!” A tall Zorai shouted from the back where he and other Zorai towered over the crowd. Daeronn continued to scan the crowd, seeming not to have heard the Zorai. “Allort!” the name rang out from several other homins in unison. Sui noticed that Ripset was one of the homins calling for Allort to lead.

“Allort?” Daeronn called out. “Will you step forward?”

A figure encased in blood-red armor began to make his way to Daeronn. The crowd parted before him, providing a path to the stage. Daeronn intently watched the figure approach.

“Can we, the less experienced fighters, help on this somehow?” A soft voice from the crowd questioned as they watched Allort pass by.

“Together we can all help!” Sui replied, remembering the strength of groups from battles past.

“I'm going to need my amps, and a pint of firewine,” stated another voice from the crowd, sounding ready for a brawl.

“Are you man enough for the job?” Daeronn said to the figure of Allort as he stepped up to the stage. “Remove you helmet so we can see your face!”

Allort pulled the helmet from his head. At that moment Sui understood why Daeronn passed over the Zorai.

“A truly brave Fyros face,” Daeronn said, looking upon Allort. ”You agree Decalion?”

“Hrmph, a pretty boy,” said one of the Fyros soldiers, holding an aggressive stance on the stage, looking like he needed to prove something to somebody.

“I think he looks brave enough,” said the second Fyros soldier, who had approached the stage with Decalion.

The first soldier seemed to relax his stance a little as he deferred to the second. “He could have what it takes...” he said.

Sui turned away from the stage and looked around at the crowd again. “Here we all are”, he thought to himself, “together and ready to die, if necessary, to protect our people.” He looked at the group of Zorai looming over the crowd, at the Fyros on the stage, at the impulsive Trykers buzzing with energy, at the haughty Matis with their suspicions, and at the guilds converged into their individual pockets of the crowd. “But still we are separated by rifts of history, politics, race, and the gods that guide us.”

Decalion turned and faced the crowd. “Tonight Homins,” he said with determination, “tonight will be a night you earn some extra scars to attest to your bravery.”

The crowd burst into a cheer, loud and raucous and sounding like a river that had breached a dam. Arms and armaments were raised high in support of Decalion and Allort. They cheered in unison, one loud voice of camaraderie and kinship.

The haughty Matis with their suspicions... Sui realized that he was really thinking about himself. He had not grown as much as he had hoped. He began to realize that he didn't trust the Fyros and didn't understand the Zorai. Recently, even his trust of his own people was fading. And the Trykers, well, they were unpredictable. He shook his head and looked at the ground. Let those feelings shed off, it's not the time to let such prejudices continue to take root and grow. He looked back up at the stage, a new perspective guiding him. He raised his hands into the air and cheered loudly with the rest - all together, all as one voice.

Daeronn signaled the crowd for silence and turned his attention back to Allort. “Allort!” he said, his voice carried across the crowd, “I charge you with the task of leading your fellow Homins to Demons Lap!”

“I accept,” Allort returned, “on the condition that some rules are followed...”

“Feel free to state them now,” Daeronn said, nodding his head slightly. Allort, Daeronn, and Decalion huddled together to discuss the terms of their agreement. The volume in the area began to rise again as the excitement grew.

“If it is war we must go, then so be it,” a voice called out from the crowd. “We stand together, steadfast, against any who may oppose us. We WILL succeed in this fight!” The crowd burst out into cheering again in response.

“Silence homins,” one of Decalion's soldiers shouted out. The noise quickly abated.

“They sound most reasonable, Allort,” Daeronn could be heard saying as they all turned to address the crowd again.

“Those people partial to the stinga rum, especialy those who have had a lot tonight, can be at the front,” Allort said to the crowd with a large grin. “All those that like having a laugh come along.” Several members of the crowd, mostly Fyros, broke out in raucous laughter and more cheering at this statement. Fyros had a strange sense of humor and a strange timing for telling jokes, Sui thought to himself. Allort continued, “lets go now from here.”

“Let us go then,” Decalion said. “Dypharius, Centon, Daeronn and me will be close behind Allort.”

The Fyros on the stage made their way to the Agora exit. The crowd of homins began to form their groups and follow along. Each of them mentally preparing for the battles they would soon face.

Allort stopped just before passing the Agora exit. He turned and faced the massing crowd. “There is still time to back out... honestly...” he shouted out so all could hear. “Some of you will not complete this mission without consequence.”

“Otherwise, lets go.” The crowed burst into deafening cheers again as they filed their way out of the Agora stage area, onto the main streets of Pyr, then out into the wilds of the Desert. The hunt was on.

To be continued...