#took a pretty sizeable chunk out of our living expenses

[nexus-nebulae]

possibly tmi but why tf does the body smell like it's on its period. we don't GET periods anymore the T and birth control basically eliminate it

[young-writer1787-blog]

Scene 1 of The Fallen

I havent edited this too much. I think I will post the edited version of the story in full when the first draft is done.

I envied Loth as he calmly slid the bolt into place, pulling back on the crossbow. He crouched, so confident, so sure; as if we weren’t about to take out one of the most important figureheads in the kingdom. “Livin’ up Gared,” Loth said. I tensed at his words. “There are twenty of my best men down there, trained to kill. You’ll be fine.” I grunted. It was easy when you were a trained assassin. Loth could defend himself. I fingered the pommel of the sword that hung at my waist. Little good it would do. I looked out over the balustrade, we weren’t very well covered, but that wouldn’t matter when the fighting started. Below, the common folk dotted the street, stopping at carts and vendors on their work breaks. The gurgling hum of machinery and the low din of gruff industry men floated through the air. Spread out among the tanneries and salons, dispersed throughout the crowd, were twenty ruthless, treacherous, dangerous and expensive men. They had cost me as much as half of my life’s earnings, not that I made much as a dock worker. It had taken careful persuasion, many half-fulfilled promises, and enough loans to make the banks suspicious. I had to remind myself of the necessity, I was already being investigated by the Inquisition. It helped that Loth was family. The only reason I didn’t owe him right now was in the fact that I kept his plots and cunning cons a secret. I was desperate. “Cog’s makin’ his move,” Loth whispered. If I was nervous before, I was just about ready to run into the streets screaming, ‘take me, it’s my fault,’ now. My heart thudded in my chest. Was it supposed to skip? Sure enough, Cog, a surly man in a long leather duster, crossed the street, slipping a wicked dagger from his leather sleeve into his hand. I looked to Cog’s right and a squat, squarish man with a crooked nose, hobbled to a man in a deep, sea green, military coat. The crowd had already grown quiet, passerby’s stopped in their tracks, by the time Lout approached the soldier. Major Lieutenant Deth, head bodyguard to High Priest Edam. Rage filled me, filling half my heart, replacing a part of the nerves. When Edam slaughtered my mother and daughter, he had only been a priest with the name Father Jarle. But he had taken up one of the fallen gods’ names since I last saw him. That didn’t change how I felt about him. So what if the gods blessed him. I eagerly waited, my heart still pounding. Lout fell on to Deth, feigning drunkenness. For all I knew, Lout really was drunk. Deth shouted and made to strike Lout, but not before the ‘drunk’ man stabbed him in the leg. Deth fell in a tumble with Lout, blood splattering on the cobbled road. The crowd grew excited. People shoved through one another, trying to get away. They knew what would follow. In their haste, a whole caravan of soldiers, traveling from the mountains to meet with the King, was revealed. And, at their center, born in a luscious palanquin, sat Edam. “Now!” Loth cried. His voice echoed off the buildings, loud and confident. Twenty men moved at once. Lout stood, Deth unmoving beneath him. Dead. Cog dashed into the caravan, his duster trailing behind him. Before the soldiers could react, one of them slumped to the ground, his throat a bloody mess. Soldiers drew weapons, swords and spears, bows and arrows. A skinny young man with a rapier thrust at Cog. He missed, stumbling past the broad man. Before the soldier could turn around, a knife sprouted from his back. Just as quickly, Cog produced two knives seemingly from nowhere, one in either hand. Two more soldiers fell. From the palanquin came muffled shouting. I heard several curses from behind its curtains as several men in royal blue coats, the honor guard, escorted the High Priest into a business complex. Arrows flew into the group of soldiers, now pressing close together. A mistake. Some soldiers replied in desperation, sending their own arrows into the sky. They clattered aimlessly off the walls of the buildings. Some windows shattered and I heard a dull cry of pain over the chaos. It sounded like Sanduel. Damn the man. Loth had said that Sanduel would take me to the priest when the worst of the fighting died down. I was a tremendously terrible fighter. Strong yes, but I lacked the soft yet careful precision of a killer. The soldiers’ victory was short-lived. Loth stood up beside me and fired, killing three soldiers. Without Deth as their leader, the soldiers couldn’t hold against the barrage. There were at least eight of my mercenaries spinning through the men, cutting them down. Lout had retreated, nursing several wounds. Cog still fought. Not counting Sanduel, I guessed there were six archers still firing. The soldiers wouldn’t last long. What had once been over seventy, there were now thirty. Only three assassins lay dead. “The only reason those soldiers are still livin’ is because they that good,” Loth said. “They’ll put up a fight. I’m goin’ in.” “Wait. Sanduel is-” “Yeh, I know,” Loth cut in. “But you don’ make the rules, yahr enemies do. That’s the best thing I evah learnt.” I didn’t know what to say at that. I took it as a piece of good but unnecessary advice and nodded. Loth swung over the balustrade and hit the street in a roll before running off into the fight, firing his crossbow. A stray arrow from above me took one of the mercenaries in the chest. There were now about twenty-five soldiers still fighting, the battlefield was evenly matched. I had to do something. I could not just let them fight my fight and then be done with it. I thought of Gabrielle and her kind voice. My wife had given her the name of a Goddess. But doing so was frowned upon. I think that’s what killed her, the curse of the gods. I thought of mother, disposed of by Father Jaerl. I felt her die as I loaded boxes and crates onto merchant ships. Gabrielle murdered alongside mother. She had been in the wrong place at just the right time, for Jaerl at least. This was my fight. It must have been the emotions that drove my decision. But whatever it was, I could not stop telling myself how stupid I was being. I was going to die out there and then it wouldn’t matter because I would be just as dead as my family. I jumped. I didn’t fall as well as Loth. Pain shot up my leg as I landed and I fell to my side. I felt a sharp crack and my breath was carried away. One of my ribs. I struggled to stand, gasping for air. It finally came, but it was too late. A sea of white-clad officers poured into the street. The Watchers, Alietum’s police. In their hands were long, brown barrels of wood, held dangerously. Rifles. A marvel of modern technology. Faster and more powerful than a crossbow. More lethal and efficient than a sword. The fighting slowed to a stop. The remaining soldiers searched through the buildings and brought out seven assassins. Two were dead. I felt a small swell of pride, noticing that fewer soldiers came back than had entered the building. My men still had some fight left in them. The watchers circled the fray, stepping around the living and dead, my mercenaries, creating a defensive barrier. Sanduel’s body was thrown at the assassins’ feet along with another limp figure, Grunt barely sixteen years old and just starting to shave. Cog charged at the police, wicked blades in hand. Click Clack. A gun cocked and fired. BANG! Blood flew from Cog’s chest and a sizeable chunk of flesh opened at his back. He fell instantly. It occurred to me there that Haldar and Dick hadn’t raised the alarm. They were supposed to be watching for more soldiers. The Watchers hadn’t seen me yet, they probably thought me dead. From my spot on the road, I saw a man supported by two men. He hung limply, blood pouring from his nose onto the street. His eyes were swollen and he looked close to death. Dick. Stepping from the circle and towards the mercenaries, was Haldar. Loth screamed, “Traitorous bastard! We made a vow! You are our brother.” “Was.” Haldar flicked his wrist and BANG!. Loth stumbled back several steps. He looked down at his stomach and held his hands to the wound. Blood began to seep through his fingers. He didn’t die as fast as Cog, and when he did, it was in pain. I screamed in rage for all the good it would do. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when I was this close. Edam had likely already gotten away. Unless-- Damn. A pair of bare feet walked over to where I lay. How--it didn’t make any sense. I had been planning this operation with Loth for months. “We are the light that watches.” The voice was smooth, silky. It terrified me. I stood warily and spat in the face of the man who shat on my life. Edam growled. The Watchers made to move. “No,” the High Priest shouted. “He’s mine.” My mercenaries cried out in protest as the soldiers rounded them up and shoved them past the circle of white. The sound of steel entering flesh is not pretty. I winced at the defiant cries as all my men died, tears gathered at the corner of my eyes. This was my fault. In my blind need for revenge, I had simply and easily forgotten that these were people. They bleed. “You break the rules Gared,” Edam said coolly, staring me in the eye. “Just as your family did. I know who you are. I remember your daughter, Gabrielle was it not? Oh, she screamed. She screamed when your mother couldn’t. Such a pretty voice. She should have known better. Her grandmother would have died anyway, she lived a good life in the factories. You know, I never thought Gabrielle was meant for the industry. She did have a goddess’s name. She would have made a fine whore. No matter, she broke the rules. She would slip out sometimes, thinking we wouldn’t notice. She claimed she was helping her grandmother. And then she disappeared. She had done so before. But three weeks!” I was just about ready to smash his brains into the street. There were rules that the commoners had to follow, but it was all to keep the peace. Rodau had just recovered from a massive depression. But the kingdom didn’t kill people for not working. The sick bastard was explaining his actions as necessary. “But, you know what I think?” Edam continued. Even the Watchers seemed uncomfortable as he spoke. “I think, as pretty as your daughter was, she had other plans while grandmother slept. Sucking on some street boy’s cock perhaps?” I grabbed for his throat, ready to strangle that scrawny neck. How dare he call my daughter a whore. “Son of a bitch,” I growled. He danced out of the way, his robes shuffling about his legs. “Careful now,” He said smiling, displaying two rows of perfect teeth. At that, all thoughts of nervousness were replaced with the need for blood. Rage filled my heart and I felt nothing but hatred. Hatred at Sanduel for being the first to die. Hatred at Loth for his confidence. Hatred for Haldar, a man I barely knew, who sold away his brothers. Had he joined them just to report back to the Watchers? Hatred for Edam and his jests. And hate for myself. For failing to kill the man who fucked with my family. I could imagine Gabrielle shaking her head, sadly asking why. I saw mother, dying silently. I saw my wife, her name to sad a memory to remember. She would know what to do. Something came over me. There was no way out of this that didn’t result in death. So, I charged, remembering the fallen. I don’t know how or when, but my sword was in my hand, held clumsily but with a purpose. The High Priest chuckled and picked a short sword from the dead hands of a fallen mercenary. He slapped my blows aside lazily. I swung in mad, uncontrolled arcs. My shoulder ached, but I kept attacking, trying to back him down. In reality, it was I who was backed down. I stepped back after each exchanged blow. He wasn’t trying to kill me. Not yet. “I will remember this,” Edam said. “I hope you tell your family how you died. Really, if you just let them go, we wouldn’t be in this current predicament.” He said his words carefully, and they hurt, digging into my heart. Pain flared in my arm. A thin gash ran from my wrist to elbow. I was forced to switch the blade in my hands. This was the end. The sword fell from my hands, clattering to the ground. I had nowhere to run. “Yield,” Edam said, the tip of his blade pointed at my throat. “Yield and I will let you live.” “Why?” I croaked. “Just kill me.” “That would be better wouldn’t it,” he said. “But alas, the gods are not merciful. They deal a swift and cruel justice. No, I will not kill you. I want you to live knowing that you failed. You broke the rules.” Your enemies make the rules. Loth’s words. This was Edam’s game. I couldn’t win. The High Priest turned to the Watchers. “Do not let this man die.” “Now you see--” Edam said turning back to me. He realized his mistake too late. I wrapped my arms around him and threw my weight against him. We both fell to the ground and tumbled apart. My fingers felt cold steel. I ran my hand deftly down the length of metal and found the hilt. I grasped it and raised both my body and the sword, thrusting it into the air. I felt a heavy weight on the end of the blade. Edam towered over me, eyes wide, a revolver in his right hand pointed at my head. The sword wasn’t buried deep, but it was enough. I twisted with all my remaining strength and let the weapon clatter to the side. The High Priest collapsed in a heap on top of me. Shouts of alarm ran through the street. Edam’s body was removed from atop me and I was roughly hoisted to my feet. My broken rib shouted in protest. The barrel of a gun thrust into my back. “No!” cried a voice. Haldar. “The High Priest said not to kill him.” “But--” the Watcher pointing the rifle at me protested. “He’s right,” a soldier. “It’s treason to disobey the High Priests, even if they’re dead.” “We’ll take it up with the King,” Haldar said. Time passed in a blur. And all I could think of was the hollow emptiness that followed Edam’s death. It was over, it had been so easy to kill him. I hadn’t hesitated, and now he was dead. It bothered me when I knew it should not. I felt starved where I should have felt full. It was as if something had been ripped from my body, the one thing that kept me tied to reality, gone. The cell door closed and the moans flooded my ears. I don’t know how long I sat in the dark dampness of the dungeons but something in me clicked. I had broken the rules of my enemies’ game. But now they would play by my rules. My game.