Post by Mongo the Destroyer on Oct 29, 2020 20:33:23 GMT -6
If you want to see if real prettylike go to this link drive.google.com/file/d/0B-8YUmKSXvLBNUhVU0JtUnN1TkE/view?usp=sharing
That's the PDF version of the show and is downloadable. Shows even come with mp3 files built into the pdf for a more immersive viewing.
Broken Souls
At the end of the Far East tour five years ago, the ASA has gone into hiding while making their way back to the United States. Now in the bones of old New York City, the Apex Superstar Alliance makes a stand to show that the world can stand up to the Darkness. That Freedom will survive...
View of New York City
In the ASA former premiere arena in New York City, New York...
Allen Anderson and Terel Walker walk through half a floor. The lights powered by a gas powered generator a floor below.
Anderson walks over to where the wall and part of the floor is gone, leaning on his wooden cane with a red dragon head. He looks out over the ruins of New York City where a meteor had been sent down by Thamptis years ago.
It isn't long before Terel Walker joins him.
Walker: "I heard the city scream this morning."
Anderson: "It happens every morning at the time that the Meteor struck the city. The attack was so disasterous that it left a psychic imprint here from all the souls that went into the afterlife at the same time. The violence of the situation had opened the flood gates to the supernatural. Each struck location around the world is also like this."
Terel shakes his head, looking on as the skeleton of a skyscraper miles away in the distance collapses.
Walker: "What can we do? The British Empire has just invaded Ireland. They've been spotted with vessels prowling around Iceland and Greenland. Carthage has been in talks with Germany. Russia is eyeing Korea and Mongolia while talking to China. A five nation alliance with ambitions to conquer the entire world?"
Anderson holds onto his cane when a wind sweeps through the broken floor, making the entire building groan in protest.
Anderson: "An alliance such as that cannot hold. Evil and greed cannot stand shoulder to shoulder forever. Someone will question why they only have a piece of the globe when they can have it all."
Terel picks up a chunk of debris, tossing it over the side. He would watch from the edge as it falls, but the wind from being so far up would snatch him from the building and splatter him upon the corpse of New York City.
Walker: "We don't have any talent signed on. No way to ensure that fans will be safe to come here to a show with bandits and Lord knows what out there."
Anderson walks over to a chair, sitting down in it with a sigh.
Anderson: "You have Adkins. Any word from the Crazy twins after one of them stole the magic rock from Adkins? What about that Oswanu guy? Didn't you pick up some Zachary guy after he left my company?"
Terel glares at Anderson at the mention of Troy Adkins.
Walker: "Adkins is a filthy, disgusting person. No idea on the crazy twins as you so eloquently put them. They seemed to have vanished once Psyko acquired the Sardion. The other guy you mentioned was out of his league and whined about it so. He might have even died when the Dark Warlock attacked with the meteors. Zachary, I fired his ass."
Anderson shrugs, he spots in the distance as a roc drops a horse into the top floor of a ruined skyscraper. Probably the giant bird's nest. He shudders a little at the sheer size of a flying bird that could snatch a fully grown elephant off of the ground like a hawk clutches at a field mouse.
Anderson: "The world has changed. The danger has grown from just a few locations to the world at large. The threat isn't just one man or a trio. The level of supernatural energy has risen over the entire globe. Evil empires rule in the East. How are the Dragons?"
Walker: "They grow and evolve as I understand it. They might even be the best bet to defeat our enemies yet. We know the company you work with hasn't done much to help."
It's true. The Warhammer Corporation has continued on as they had for generations. The British Empire being one of their largest customers as they buy into advanced technologies. The Circle of Fire is bitterly divided, nearly to the point of open war. Four of the Circle support Carthage, Russia, and England. Two stand against. Only the intervention of the CEO has kept this from being a massacre.
Anderson: "There's no defending them. I'm surprised that Micheal Vastrix didn't throw in with the majority. I'm also suprised that Spatharsis and Firth agreed on anything."
Walker: "Firath and Spatharsis? Aren't they feuding? With supernatural energy rising, wouldn't Firath go into hiding?"
Anderson chuckles.
Anderson: "Too true. Let's go. We've a meeting with President James E Lee. You have an idea on where to go next to see if we can get some recruits? Can't put the IWA to shame without recuits."
Walker: "Ohio to headquarters. Remind me to discuss Alaska and Hawaii when we meet with the President. These locations will prove to be valuable in defending the Far West from attack."
Cruise Ship of the Dead
On the beach of Lisbon, Portugal...
Families frolick and play in the water and sand. A wall has been built in five years. A wall that has been built and enchanted to keep back the undead in what once was Spain and France.
The number of dead in these nations was apocalyptic. The Hand of Claw had turned everyone it could grab into brainwashed soldiers with cybernetic implants. They were defeated by agents of the Warhammer Corporation, but the price was unfathomable. To disable the cybernetic devices, meant destroying them and killing the hosts.
Millions died. Tens of millions.
Steps were being taken to cleanse the nations of the dead and rebuild what was. That was until the Fourth Punic War ended with the destruction of Rome. Carthage swept into the area with magicians skilled in the dark arts of necromancy. They transformed the nations once known as Spain and France into a Hell on Earth. A place where those of the living that were left and not in the service of Carthage were hunted for prey.
Though with the wall in place to keep the common attacks of the undead seeking living prey and their masters working to gain control of the lands, the people of Portugal are relatively safe.
The children splash and play while the parents sit on beach towels and enjoy the weather.
Years ago it was common to see cruise ships go by near the beach with the tourists of different countries being able to wave at each other as they went by. With the war and so much death, there hasn't been very many cruise ships seen.
Not ones that didn't also carry mercenaries from the Warhammer Corporation. They didn't get very close and they didn't wave.
Still, it couldn't be denied what was being seen. A cruise ship in the Atlantic Ocean close to the beach. Not one of Warhammer's militerized ships, but an honest to goodness cruise ship!
The children began waving right away, even though they couldn't see who was standing on top of the decks yet. Adults began whispering to each other though as the cruise ship came closer.
Was the ship over grown with moss? Was there a lot of damage done to the ship?
People began taking out binoculars to see who was on the ship as happy curiosity starts to become fearful paranoia.
Was the ship attacked by Carthage or Britain?
Had the ship become moored in the ocean?
Was it some publicity stunt?
Or was it something much more horrifying?
As it begins to come into better view, people begin to scream abd take their families away from the beach. There are...things...on the cruise ship. Things that have long been dead.
Shuffling, crawling people who were once alive. They stare at the beach and those terrified people on it like a buffet of the gods laid out for miles for them. A few of them that still retain some sinister intelligence wave at the fleeing families like the tourists of old did.
It quickly becomes apparent that the cruise ship is not just going by, it's drifting TOWARD the beach. If the undead couldn't get through the Eastern Mystic Wall...
They would go around it.
Recruiting in the Shadows
At a small cafe in Nuremberg, Germany...Captain Trevor Maathai sits at an outside table, sipping at some tea. He has his Surface sitting in front of him, looking at something that we can't see. He closes it as someone sits at the table with him.
Maathai: "Basurto."
Sebastian Basutro nods with a tight grin.
Basurto: "Captain Maathai. How are you?"
Maathai: "Better than the folks in Ireland. I'm not a wrestler, if that's what you're here sniffing after, Basurto."
Sebastian chuckles, placing an envelope and sliding it across the table.
Basurto: "I know this. As does Anderson and Walker. I have been sent here for another reason."
Trevor eyes Sebastian and the envelope with suspicion, but picks it up to open it and read the folded paper within. He raises an eyebrow.
Maathai: "Head of Security for Apex Wrestling? I wasn't very good when I was with Warhammer Wrestling. I was a poor replacement for Captain Gideon Rogers."
Basurto: "The war we fight now is different that what was. We need your talents to help us when we go into the dark places where no one wants to venture as to be able to keep our people safe for when agents of the Three Empires find us and take action. You still have contacts within the Warhammer Corporation I'm sure to be able to get us enough of a force so that if we go into a nation that's being threatened that we can be of service. We can't take on our enemies head on and won't be trying, but we will be working to gather allies for an eventual conflict. And for that, we need your skills more than ever. Will you accept?"
Trevor stares at the letter for a long time before answering.
Maathai: "No secrets are to be held from me about anything and when it comes to security, my word is as law. If I say that it's time to evac...we leave right then! No heroic sacrifices on my watch."
Basurto: "I think that this might be good for them. Shall we leave? I have a ScramJet outside of the city."
Maathai: "Let's head out then. I'm tired of sniping at my targets anyway..."
War in the North Sea
"Arr! Send these lubbers ta tha bottom a Davy Jone's locker!"
A parrot flies around seamen in the uniforms of the British Navy on the HMS Bristol. They don't seem to take much notice of it as they work feverishly to get the main cannons of the ship reloaded. The bird aims straight for the ceiling of the cramped room, flying straight through to the outside. On the outside of the ship is only one person standing on the bow of the ship, looking on at the sea battle raging in the North Sea.
Two Icelandic cruisers were caught in British waters and are met with a battleship and two cruisers.
Admiral Bartholomew Kane stands on the bow, the wind not effecting him with a pair of Google Glasses on. He doesn't look the least bit happy as he sees one of his own cruisers get struck by a lucky shot and explode into flames. A bit of shrapnel flies through his chest and into the sea without notice.
Kane: "How lon' does it take yah bilge rats ta load them six pounders? Our shot across the bow was coun'ered by sinkin' one of me ships! Don't be clashin' words wit' the likes o'me or yer'll find yerself swingin' from the jackstaff! Yeah we be speaking of tha Queen's Justice, a knave like yerself will be dancin' wit' Jack Ketch! Now get them six pounders a'loaded an' FIRE!"
The HMS Bristol sways as the main cannons fire in a deadly broadside. Admiral Bartholomew Kane doesn't even bat an eye as the ship lurches from the recoil beneath his feet. The targeted Icelandic cruiser explodes in fury as all shots connect and destroy the fuel banks of the enemy ship. The last ship starts turning to flee back to International waters.
Kane: "Hold yer fire on this one. Ah'll have a walk over there meself and have a right friendly chat, Admiral ta Captain."
One the bridge of the Icelandic cruiser, Captain Jón Stefánsson walks amongst his frightened crew. He tries to be a rock in a storm of fear, but he's rapidly losing ground. It doesn't help when Admiral Bartholomew Kane with a parrot on his shoulder walks through the wall of his ship to stand in front of him. Murmurs of "the Ghost Admiral" flow through the bridge like a breeze, passing through the lips of a crew on the verge of panic.
Admiral Kane takes notice of their fear with a harsh chuckle.
Kane: "Tis a nice little boat ya have 'ere, Cap'n. T'would be a shame to see such a prime lil toy sent to the open arms a' Davy Jones."
Captain Stefánsson shakes his head, keeping his expression calm.
Stefánsson: "We were responding to a distress call from a civilian ship. Nothing more, nothing less."
Kane: "I know, laddie! Who ya thunk set up said call? Arr! Easy pickin's to bring a picaroon like yerself down here ta my sights! Now don't hang a jib, we done run a great, grand rig on ya's."
Captain Jón Stefánsson blinks at Admiral Kane a bit as if uncertain how to feel about such a statement. The parrot on Kane's shoulder chimes in.
Parrot: "He says he tricked ya! He tricked ya! Rawk!"
Stefánsson: "Be gone with you, Ghost Admiral! Tell your Bloody Queen that we will stand firm against her attacks!"
Two of the men in the bridge stand up, aiming side arms at Admiral Kane. He just cackles, walking slowly to Captain Stefánsson, each step against the metal floor sounding like the tread of a giant.
Kane: "What do yah wee strumpets o'er there think they can do to one such as I. Eh? Not a bullet nor blade has harmed one such as meself since the year fifteen hundred and eighty-eight when helping sink the Spanish Armada outside of Ireland in the service of the beautiful, bountiful Gloriana!"
Stefánsson: "Let's test that theory. Fire!"
The crew in the ship open fire on Bartholomew Kane, the shots passing right through. A few of the crewmen fall from ricochets and Captain Stefánsson himself staggers back to the wall behind him with a bullet wound on the right side of his chest. He gasps for air as his right lung begins to deflate. Admiral Kane leans in close with a crooked smile.
Kane: "Such a small wound ye have 'here. A small wound that a rapscallion like meself might ha'e a lil fun with. Treat ya's like a deservin' lil wench that be needin' a lesson or two in humility!"
Bartholomew roughly shoves his finger into the bullet wound on Captain Stefánsson"s chest, but it does not simply pass through. Captain Stefánsson screams out in pain, a spiderweb of dark lines spreading out from the bullet wound.
Kane: "Don't ye be concerned about the black rot. Ye'll be lively enough when we get ye measured fer yer chains in London. Ye're mates on the other hand..."
Bartholomew rips his fingers out of Captain Stefánsson's chest, he screams as thousands of oozey black spheres fly from his wound, causing the spiderweb of black lines fade away. As the black spheres strike the crew members of the ship, the ooze begins to cover them and dissolve their flesh off of their bones. Admiral Kane raises an eyebrow at Captain Stefánsson.
Kane: "As pretty as a grog blossom on a beautiful, busty lass it is! Stand to me hearties!"
The skeleton crew stand up to attention, their uniforms hanging loosely upon their frames. They all snap a salute to Admiral Kane.
Kane: "Let's rejoin the others and 'ead back to London. Ye're former Cap'n here has a date with the gibbet!"
Lunatic in the Dungeon
The deepest, darkest level of the dungeons underneath the Imperial Palace is a dangerous place that goes far beyond being simply dark or deep.
Special generators are in place to hold against the intense pressure of being so far inside of the Earth. A system of tunnels and trains connect the capital cities of the Three Empires along with a few other key locations.
At this moment, we are far under Buckingham Palace.
"Lady Apathy" Elizabeth Devereaux walks into a small dark room. Her cold, imperious eyes scanning the darkness.
Devereaux: "Come out, child. We have much to discuss."
A single word in a language dead before humanity began to walk erect, and nearly twenty candles arranged on the walls spring to life. A young girl with dark hair and a blood stained robe that may have once been blue with a book opened in front of her.
Girl: "Lady Apathy! How good to see you. Have you come to bring me purpose after freeing from the asylum on Killswitch Island?"
Her name is Tabitha Osborne, but if you called her any name except for Zolothatch, you might be given a painful death. She might have been a great wrestler once, except that her father and brother did not really want to train her. Instead, they abused her physically and sexually. That is until the day that she murdered her own family and went on a twenty state killing spree in the United States. She professes to worship the Great Old Ones, while maintaining that she's a High Priestess to Cthulhu. In her worship and delving into hidden secrets that humanity was not meant to know, she has become a powerful witch. She has also tortured her mind beyond repair in her transformation.
Devereaux: "You already have purpose. You are a servant of chaos. I have use for such chaos."
Tabitha grins, but it isn't a grin of normal happiness. It is the psychopathic grin of a broken mind.
Osborne: "Chaos. Madness. They are but simple words used to pretty up the bloody guts of life. Who do you want me to kill?"
Devereaux: "Her Majesty, Druscilla Bathory."
Tabitha's grin widens, the candles in the room blazing with new strength and dancing with violence.
Osborne: "The Daughter of the Shadow Blood? I would love to have the chance to bring her down! I don't know if I really can though."
Elizabeth chuckles, ruffling up Tabitha's hair.
Devereaux: "You won't be going in alone, Zolo. I will be in close support so that if you are defeated, I will sweep in and finish the job. At the very least, I will be near to make sure her consort does not get involved in the fight."
Tabitha frowns, mouthing the word "Consort" over and over again. She grins after a few minutes.
Osborne: "You mean your brother, Nebiryau?"
Elizabeth narrows her eyes.
Devereaux: "You've been in the asylum for six years. A year before the Fourth Punic War. How do you know-"
Osborne: "I hear the whispers through the ether. The spirits beyond have little do do but gossip about the living it seems. No secrets can be without finding their way to my ears. Like you and Miss Salinas. Sexy..."
Elizabeth rolls her eyes, motioning to the door to the room and having it pop open.
Devereaux: "Destiny awaits. You do this deed for me and you will find yourself raised to exhilarating heights."
Tabitha Osborne stands up with a giggle, dusting herself off.
Osborne: "I'm ready."
Blood of the Titan
In the steadily being rebuilt city of Rome in Italy, we find "Guttertrash" Troy Adkins walking down the street in what used to be Vatican City. He glances at the depths of the Cronus Rift and wonders if one could really leap through the Underworld and into the darkest pits of Tartarus from the top of Midgard.
He is dressed in the finery of an Asgardian warrior with his sword at his waist and a shield strapped to his back. He opens the door to a rebuilt Italian eatery and walks in.
The hostess takes him to his table and he waits with a wide grin as the waitress comes to take his order.
Adkins: "I would like a glass of wine, surprise me my dear. Something a little on the dark and heavy side if you could. I would also like to meet with the owner."
The waitress opens her mouth to refuse the man the meeting when she begins blinking in shock. She looks down to see that Troy had placed his hand on her inner thigh and was gliding his hand up her skirt.
Far from being angry at his boldness, she feels herself growing weak from pleasure and pink in the face.
Adkins: "Tell him that Hoskuld Lokison, Asgardian God of Excess, would like to see him on business. That is, in a minute or so..."
The waitress nods numbly as Troy skillfully slides her panties aside and-
Adkins: "Ouch!"
Troy rips his hand back out of her skirt, shaking it in pain. Teeth marks can be seen on his middle finger.
A giggling child with golden blonde hair also falls out of the skirt of the waitress to land on the seat across the table from Troy. The waitress screams and runs to the back to get the boss. Troy looks sternly at the child.
Adkins: "Celes Adkins! I told you to stay home with your Mother and Uncle!"
The five year old little girl just giggles.
Celes: "Is it Celes Adkins? Celes Hoskulddottir? Or should we go with Celes Mills? I mean you have Troy Adkins, Hoskuld Lokison, and Thomas Mills for names. I can have three or four too, can't I? And is Thor my Great Uncle since he's my Grandfather's brother or is he my Step-Father since he's with mom? Uncle Daddy?"
Troy sits back in his chair, rolling his eyes. He was dragged back to Asgard after defeating his opponents in the last ASA show five years ago. He had a minor dalliance with the Lady Sif that resulted in a baby, Celes. She has proven to be more mischievous than her grandfather. He places a dark circle on the table, reaching in to pull out a bottle of Asgardian Mead. He opens it and starts drinking at it.
Adkins: "Your mother is going to tan my hide when she notices you missing again, Celes. The fact that you're with me I'm sure will make it worse."
A plump Italian man with gray hair walks up to the table. He's in an expensive business suit and smiles. Celes vanishes into this air, reappearing next to Troy so the man can sit down at the table.
Adkins: "Fat Tony! How are ya? You managed to stay alive all these years with your new rulers either in a flying castle or sitting upon a mountain!"
Fat Tony just shrugs with a dry chuckle.
Tony: "Even after war and destruction swept through this town like an army of dime store whores, it really comes right down to the simple things. It's who ya know that matters in Rome, just like everywhere else. What can I do for yas, Troy?"
Troy looks around at who could be listening and leans a little closer.
Adkins: "I would like to know if you have really perfected the serum that makes the basis for the drug called Ageless."
Fat Tony opens his mouth in shock, but then closes it and shakes his head.
Tony: "I don't know what you might be in reference to. Ageless is a killer drug, plain and simple. It does not extend your life, it shortens it while making you think you feel younger. High priced acid basically."
Celes giggles lightly, laying on the table to look at Fat Tony in the eyes.
Celes: "He's lying. He's lying! Lying, lying, lying! He's like a bear rug in Uncle Thor's hall!"
Adkins: "Now, Celes, he is only trying to protect himself here. Fat Tony, I'm not here to compete. I'm here to buy! Tell me what else have you done with the blood of the Titan known as Cronus?"
Fat Tony swallows hard, but he can't disguise the greed in his eyes.
Tony: "The blood has to be fresh. If you allow the blood to coagulate before adding in the stabilizers, then it becomes worthless. So, I have people make weekly treks to the mountain that he sits upon and cut open his foot. It's so small of a cut that he doesn't really notice it and we get a barrel of blood collected before covering the wound."
Troy nods in approval while Celes laughs and giggles at the concept.
Celes: "Ha! Foot Blood! Is it stinky? Odin's Beard, tell me it's stinky blood!"
Troy sighs, pulling Celes back into the seat next to him.
Adkins: "Quiet before I send you back to your mother! She might hand you a sword and start putting you through the paces of Valkyrie training again. Do you want that?"
Celes sits down, shaking her head. She places her own portable hole on the table, pulling out a sippy cup full of goat's milk. She sits back and begins to drink.
Tony: "We do put the blood in Ageless, but it isn't a very good formula since the clients tend to die in ways similar to an acid overdose. We have two other formulas that we are working on. One is called Legacy. After a dozen full strength treatments of this, a person becomes an Olympian. Not a God mind you, but an Immortal being with eternal youth. We have diluted the strength of this formula until it never reaches that level of completion. We call this version De Leon. It brings you youth and vitality, but you must buy more or the effect will wear off after a week and your body will rapidly age to its proper age. In some extreme cases, this has meant the death of the user. Our other use of the blood has not really been refined, or really totally understood yet. It seems to be able to send the user back in time? Though so far, no more than a few hours. It's a drug version of the Time Turner in the Harry Potter book. We call it Tardis."
Troy raises an eyebrow at the name.
Adkins: "Tardis?"
Tony: "Yeah. Well it sends you through time and space. We think it could go through to the future, but no one's tried it. And one of the chemists is a big Doctor Who fan so..."
Adkins: "What's the most ambitious use of Tardis?"
Tony: "Skeevy used it one night to go back in time to ten different locations across the same eight hour period to bang ten different girls in the same night. You shoulda seen these girls when they compared notes and went at each other. They all thought that the other girls were lying about sleeping with the same man at the same time in different spots. Lucky that they didn't know about Tardis or Skeevy might be a dead man."
The eyes of Celes go wide with excitement and she vanishes with the sound of a popping bubble. Fat Tony looks at the spot.
Tony: "Where did she go?"
Troy just shakes his head with a laugh.
Adkins: "She is the granddaughter of Loki. I would say that she's telling those girls all about Tardis. So, let's get right to it. I want to order a constant supply. I want Ageless, Legacy, De Leon, Tardis, and the treated blood of Cronus. I'll pay in Asgardian gold and will have a follower of mine come and pick it up every Tuesday. How much? About a hundred doses each of the drugs and a barrel of the blood treated to not coagulate on me. If I come up with anything new and exciting, I'll be sure to offer you a chance to get in on the ground floor. Sound good?"
Fat Tony seems to do the math in his head and smiles.
Tony: "Sounds good. Pleasure doing business wit ya."
With the sound of bubbles popping rapidly, Celes lands on the seat next to Troy.
Celes: "Ooooohhhhh, Skeevy is going to be sssooo dead!"
Troy shakes his head with a laugh.
Adkins: "What am I going to do with you?"
Celes stands up, wrapping her arms around Troy's neck.
Celes: "Love me tender, love me true, and never let me go!"
Adkins: "You're totally not Elvis."
Celes: "Oh pooh I'm not! I'm gonna go mess with Tsar Miranov's head for a bit. Bye!"
Adkins: "Be home for dinn-"
With the sound of bubbles popping, she's gone before Troy can finish speaking. He sighs with a laugh.
Adkins: "Kids. Can't live with them and can't feed them to the Midgard Serpent. Not when her Great Uncle Daddy is Thor anyway."
Tony: "I'll have the first shipment ready by next Tuesday. You coming here to get it? We also have a find blood stew and a blood sausage made from Cronus as well."
Troy shakes his head with a smile.
Adkins: "I'll come here for the shipment, but otherwise I don't eat food. Drugs and booze for me. Thanks."
Meeting with the US President
Inside Central Park, the destruction done to New York City has allowed this jewel of greeness to expand into a forest over the last five years.
It's not easy to tell at a glance, but nearly a hundred trees in the region have one to two men in them. Security personel with the logo of Tendonin Industries on their chest with high powered rifles. They surround a small rusted complex, created from a dozen container boxes.
Inside at a table, sit Allen Anderson, Terel Walker, Jason Tendonin, and President James E Lee.
Jason sits with a tablet in his hands, a small device sitting in the center of the table.
Tendonin: "Mr. President, Ireland has fallen rather quickly to the predations of the British Empire. The world is now watching the United States to determine what to do next. Tendonin Industries will support you in this."
Anderson chuckles, sipping at a whiskey on the rocks.
Anderson: "Director Sebastian Jalabert of the Warhammer Corporation will also support you. He has some trouble in dealing with the British Crown in Canada and would like to see Queen Bathory knocked down a peg or two."
President Lee raises an eyebrow.
Lee: "Jalabert's on board with helping because of some difficulty in doing business instead of some real desire to help?"
Anderson chuckles, draining the rest of his drink.
Anderson: "He loves the United States, but he is a businessman first and foremost. His region within the Warhammer hierarchy is North America. When the other board members interfere with this, he will oppose them. Kirios Spatharsis has been trying to dig his fingers in where ever the British Empire has gone in order to recoup his losses in Europe. So if Director Hakim Firath can be bothered to leave the Tower of Silence, he may also support us. He officially is siding with Spatharsis, but I think this is a vote by proxy."
President Lee shakes his head with a smile.
Lee: "I would comment on Warhammer politics, but ah-"
Anderson: "No need. Just take everything that makes sense, add in a healthy dose of evil, chuck it all in a blender, and there you have it."
Lee: "Well. Intelligence reports show that the British Navy is snooping around Iceland and Greenland."
Tendonin: "I have had people at those nations training to be able to properly defend themselves. We've been arming them over the past five years with weapons, ships, and other equipment. I don't think that her Majesty's little navy can match them."
Anderson: "In Portugal, I contracted out a mystic order known as the Guardians of the Unleashed Soul. They have been working with a company owned by Spatharsis called Unbroken Wall Security to create a barrier to keep out the undead forces in Spain."
Lee: "I have a new naval base in Alaska to defend against the Russian Navy. Pearl Harbor has been upgraded as well. I have new Diplomats sent out to China, Japan, Mongolia, and India to hammer out new treaties and defense alliances."
Anderson pours two new drinks, passing one to President Lee. He pours an iced tea for Terel Walker.
Anderson: "Well, let's hope that everything goes well. Anyone being sent to Africa? South Africa perhaps? Sudan?"
Lee: "I'm still looking for people who are brave enough to go. What about you two? Care to do a tour in Africa? I can send finantial support to go with everything."
Anderson sips at his drink, looking thoughtful.
Anderson: "If the Director of Warhammer Africa heard I set foot in his domain, the assassins would come hot and heavy."
Lee: "Well if you don't want-"
Anderson: "Now, I didn't say that. Just that it'd be dangerous. I'm game for it. What about you, Terel?"
Terel chuckles, leaning back in his chair.
Walker: "Why not? We should do a battle royal or something to get a number one contender for the ASA title. Someone to bring that Troy Adkins down. Maybe the promise of gold will get us some people brave enough to travel to Africa with us. Where to first?"
Anderson: "Ethiopia."
Terel nearly drops his drink, raising an eyebrow at Anderson.
Walker: "Right to one of the border countires to Carthage? Are you sure that's wise?"
Anderson just shrugs, draining his glass.
Anderson: "Ethiopia is in danger from invasion. They will be certain to join hands with President Lee in the face of such danger. So yes, Ethiopia."
Walker: "Well? Ethiopia it is then. President Lee?"
President Lee drains his glass, standing up with a smile.
Lee: "Consider yourselves to be diplomatic representatives of the United States of America! Be careful out there."
Walker: "Thanks. We are honored for the duty."
Regicide
In the throne room at Buckingham Palace, Queen Druscilla Bathory sits on her throne while four military advisers feed her info on troop movements and political leanings from around the entire empire.
A young girl walks though the doorway, blood dripping from a ritual dagger in a white dress so stained with blood as to be pink.
Druscilla doesn't even look in her direction as she reads a tablet computer.
Bathory: "I have waited a long five years for my first assassin to appear. Who do I get for my first would be assassin? The Demon Child of Killswitch Island. Pathetic."
"Zolothatch" Tabitha Osborne giggles, tossing back dark bangs with a bloody hand.
Osborne: "Your guards didn't think I was so pathetic when I killed them."
Druscilla smirks, motioning for her advisers to leave. She waits for them to exit the room before speaking again.
Bathory: "Who sent you? Was it Anderson? Seems like something that he would do. You are not a Catholic assassin or else I would think that the Cardinal would have sent you."
Tabitha only giggles, licking at the bloody blade.
Osborne: "Does it matter who freed me from the asylum to kill you? I will still send you to the waiting tentacles of Cthulhu..."
Queen Bathory stands up with a shrug, slipping her royal coat off and drawing her sword.
Bathory: "I suppose this is true. It doesn't matter really who sent you since you will just die here."
Druscilla makes a motion and Tabitha is quickly surrounded by shadowed versions of Druscilla that quickly fill in with color. Tabitha slashes at the original Druscilla, but her knife merely passes through an illusion.
Bathory: "You think I would stand still so you could cut me? Not that the little knife you carry will do me any real harm."
Osborne: "You are right. Just cutting at you with a knife will do me no good. I should just surrender and accept death..."
A whispered word and Tabitha drops the knife and to her knees.
Osborne: "My vitae is yours."
Druscilla takes Tabitha's shoulders from behind and sinks growing fangs into her neck. A few seconds later, she violently throws Tabitha into the throne, and staggers back onto her butt while gagging.
Bathory: "What have you done to me?"
Tabitha sits up on the throne, a greenish black ooze streaming from the wound in her neck.
Osborne: "Cthulhu protects his own. This is a nice throne. Shards from the body of my master's brother are built into it. They will do a shadow of life like you no good. Me on the other hand..."
Another whispered word and just below the arms of the throne on either side, a black hole diamond thrusts out from within. Twin metallic vortexes project from the stones to strike at Druscilla-
To be stopped by the large sword of Nebiryau.
Nebiryau: "I came as soon as I felt your pain, my love!"
Druscilla Bathory doesn't answer, instead vomiting greenish black ooze onto the floor while on her hands and knees.
Tabitha just sits back in the throne as if she owns the place. Her vile grin in place as the vortexes cease.
Osborne: "The Middle Sibling. You know you can't really stop this from happening. Right? I have sealed away her powers with my spell. Let what must come, come, as was sanctioned by your master."
Silence reigns for a few moments before Nebiryau sheathes his sword while looking down.
Nebiryau: "I know, but the deed won't be done by someone like you. She deserves at least that much."
Druscilla stands up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes shine a brilliant violet in her anger.
Bathory: "What treachery is this? Nebiryau?"
"Who signed the orders to bring Carthage down and sew the fields with salt?"
Druscilla turns to see Elizabeth Devereaux walk into the room, her feet barely touching the floor.
Bathory: "I did. I set into motion the downfall of ancient Carthage and the defeat of the Dark Warlock. Things were different back then. We are allies now! You are my Goddess and Nebiryau is my Consort!"
Elizabeth nods, her obsidian wings unfurling as she stands next to Druscilla.
Devereaux: "This is true, but let's be honest with ourselves. The vengeance that Thamptis sought upon Egypt and Rome is not complete until the person who really caused the pain and suffering has paid."
Druscilla backs away from Elizabeth and Nebiryau, the violet glow in her eyes fading as the spell sealing her powers away does its work.
Bathory: "There would not have been victory in Rome if not for me! I brought Nebiryau back to life after he was slain by Bacchus! It was my manipulations that led to Ionis Miranov to becoming Tsar of an Imperial Russia! I am the reason there is Three Empires! Without my help at the last, Thamptis himself would have been destroyed by that Chinese hedge witch's spell! These deeds should absolve me of any guilt in bringing Carthage down in the first place!"
Devereaux: "All true. You will be honored after your passing for what you did to help secure victory for the Fourth Punic War. You still must pay though. For what it's worth...I am sorry."
Druscilla looks from Nebiryau to Elizabeth to Tabitha. Her anger fades away from hot coals to defeated ashes.
Bathory: "Then, I am ready. My love, will you please do the honors? I would like to go in a manner of my own choosing."
Nebiryau draws his sword solemnly.
Nebiryau: "Of course."
Bathory: "One last kiss goodbye?"
Nebiryau leans in to kiss Druscilla, but she slams her palm into his chin. She grabs his sword from his hands and spins with it to connect the flat of the blade into the side of his head.
Bathory: "I am still the Queen of the British Empire! None can bring me down! Thamptis will rue the day that he decided to have me executed!"
Druscilla swings the sword at Elizabeth, but black smoke around her hand forms into a lithe sword that parries the blow. She turns upon seeing movement and parries a slash with the ritual dagger from Tabitha.
Bathory: "Your harlot spell won't keep me down! Already my system is burning though your venom! You did on this day, bitch!"
Druscilla smashes the front of Tabitha with the flat of the sword, sending her rolling backwards into the throne.
Tabitha stands up quickly, spitting blood onto the floor.
Osborne: "You want harlot magics? Behold the dominance of Cthulhu!"
Tabitha cuts open her wrist with the ritual dagger, the blood spraying out in thick liquid greenish black ropes that form hands on the end with each holding a similar ritual dagger. Over a dozen daggers stab and slash at Druscilla, sweeping past her defenses to open up slashing and piercing wounds.
Druscilla backs up while hissing in pain, cutting through the black oozy arms with Nebiryau's sword.
Bathory: "I am immortal! No Cthulhu spawned bitch will-"
Druscilla stops talking and drops the sword as Elizabeth's sword is thrust through her chest from the back.
Bathory: "No..."
Nebiryau staggers to his feet as Elizabeth's sword dissipates back into smoke.
Druscilla drops to her knees, her blood flowing hot and fast from her chest once the venom flows out. Nebiryau picks up his sword.
Nebiryau: "For the last vengeance of Carthage and the Dark Warlock! Goodbye, Druscilla Bathory."
Nebiryau swings the sword, lopping off Druscilla's head in a single stroke. Before the head hits the ground, he holds out an empty hand with the palm facing her.
Nebiryau: "Stone of Red."
A bright blaze instantly transforms Drsucilla's body and head into ashes.
Nebiryau: "It is finished."
Tabitha Osborne dances through the ashes with a girlish giggle. Nebiryau smacks her in the back of the head, sending her sliding away. She gets up with murder in her eye.
Nebiryau: "What we did today was done with a heavy heart. Do not disrespect the moment with your childishness!"
Tabitha opens her mouth to speak in anger, but then sees Elizabeth nod at her. She bows her head quickly.
Osborne: "Of course, Lord Nebiryau and Lady Apathy. My aplogies. My childishness gets away from me sometimes."
Devereaux: "Stand up, child. It is expected with you spending your teen years in Killswitch Island. We must go and inform people of the change of ownership for the British Empire. Imagine their horror when they learn that a French born rules their nation once again."
Osborne: "The Queen is dead, Long live the Queen!"
That's the PDF version of the show and is downloadable. Shows even come with mp3 files built into the pdf for a more immersive viewing.
Broken Souls
At the end of the Far East tour five years ago, the ASA has gone into hiding while making their way back to the United States. Now in the bones of old New York City, the Apex Superstar Alliance makes a stand to show that the world can stand up to the Darkness. That Freedom will survive...
View of New York City
In the ASA former premiere arena in New York City, New York...
Allen Anderson and Terel Walker walk through half a floor. The lights powered by a gas powered generator a floor below.
Anderson walks over to where the wall and part of the floor is gone, leaning on his wooden cane with a red dragon head. He looks out over the ruins of New York City where a meteor had been sent down by Thamptis years ago.
It isn't long before Terel Walker joins him.
Walker: "I heard the city scream this morning."
Anderson: "It happens every morning at the time that the Meteor struck the city. The attack was so disasterous that it left a psychic imprint here from all the souls that went into the afterlife at the same time. The violence of the situation had opened the flood gates to the supernatural. Each struck location around the world is also like this."
Terel shakes his head, looking on as the skeleton of a skyscraper miles away in the distance collapses.
Walker: "What can we do? The British Empire has just invaded Ireland. They've been spotted with vessels prowling around Iceland and Greenland. Carthage has been in talks with Germany. Russia is eyeing Korea and Mongolia while talking to China. A five nation alliance with ambitions to conquer the entire world?"
Anderson holds onto his cane when a wind sweeps through the broken floor, making the entire building groan in protest.
Anderson: "An alliance such as that cannot hold. Evil and greed cannot stand shoulder to shoulder forever. Someone will question why they only have a piece of the globe when they can have it all."
Terel picks up a chunk of debris, tossing it over the side. He would watch from the edge as it falls, but the wind from being so far up would snatch him from the building and splatter him upon the corpse of New York City.
Walker: "We don't have any talent signed on. No way to ensure that fans will be safe to come here to a show with bandits and Lord knows what out there."
Anderson walks over to a chair, sitting down in it with a sigh.
Anderson: "You have Adkins. Any word from the Crazy twins after one of them stole the magic rock from Adkins? What about that Oswanu guy? Didn't you pick up some Zachary guy after he left my company?"
Terel glares at Anderson at the mention of Troy Adkins.
Walker: "Adkins is a filthy, disgusting person. No idea on the crazy twins as you so eloquently put them. They seemed to have vanished once Psyko acquired the Sardion. The other guy you mentioned was out of his league and whined about it so. He might have even died when the Dark Warlock attacked with the meteors. Zachary, I fired his ass."
Anderson shrugs, he spots in the distance as a roc drops a horse into the top floor of a ruined skyscraper. Probably the giant bird's nest. He shudders a little at the sheer size of a flying bird that could snatch a fully grown elephant off of the ground like a hawk clutches at a field mouse.
Anderson: "The world has changed. The danger has grown from just a few locations to the world at large. The threat isn't just one man or a trio. The level of supernatural energy has risen over the entire globe. Evil empires rule in the East. How are the Dragons?"
Walker: "They grow and evolve as I understand it. They might even be the best bet to defeat our enemies yet. We know the company you work with hasn't done much to help."
It's true. The Warhammer Corporation has continued on as they had for generations. The British Empire being one of their largest customers as they buy into advanced technologies. The Circle of Fire is bitterly divided, nearly to the point of open war. Four of the Circle support Carthage, Russia, and England. Two stand against. Only the intervention of the CEO has kept this from being a massacre.
Anderson: "There's no defending them. I'm surprised that Micheal Vastrix didn't throw in with the majority. I'm also suprised that Spatharsis and Firth agreed on anything."
Walker: "Firath and Spatharsis? Aren't they feuding? With supernatural energy rising, wouldn't Firath go into hiding?"
Anderson chuckles.
Anderson: "Too true. Let's go. We've a meeting with President James E Lee. You have an idea on where to go next to see if we can get some recruits? Can't put the IWA to shame without recuits."
Walker: "Ohio to headquarters. Remind me to discuss Alaska and Hawaii when we meet with the President. These locations will prove to be valuable in defending the Far West from attack."
Cruise Ship of the Dead
On the beach of Lisbon, Portugal...
Families frolick and play in the water and sand. A wall has been built in five years. A wall that has been built and enchanted to keep back the undead in what once was Spain and France.
The number of dead in these nations was apocalyptic. The Hand of Claw had turned everyone it could grab into brainwashed soldiers with cybernetic implants. They were defeated by agents of the Warhammer Corporation, but the price was unfathomable. To disable the cybernetic devices, meant destroying them and killing the hosts.
Millions died. Tens of millions.
Steps were being taken to cleanse the nations of the dead and rebuild what was. That was until the Fourth Punic War ended with the destruction of Rome. Carthage swept into the area with magicians skilled in the dark arts of necromancy. They transformed the nations once known as Spain and France into a Hell on Earth. A place where those of the living that were left and not in the service of Carthage were hunted for prey.
Though with the wall in place to keep the common attacks of the undead seeking living prey and their masters working to gain control of the lands, the people of Portugal are relatively safe.
The children splash and play while the parents sit on beach towels and enjoy the weather.
Years ago it was common to see cruise ships go by near the beach with the tourists of different countries being able to wave at each other as they went by. With the war and so much death, there hasn't been very many cruise ships seen.
Not ones that didn't also carry mercenaries from the Warhammer Corporation. They didn't get very close and they didn't wave.
Still, it couldn't be denied what was being seen. A cruise ship in the Atlantic Ocean close to the beach. Not one of Warhammer's militerized ships, but an honest to goodness cruise ship!
The children began waving right away, even though they couldn't see who was standing on top of the decks yet. Adults began whispering to each other though as the cruise ship came closer.
Was the ship over grown with moss? Was there a lot of damage done to the ship?
People began taking out binoculars to see who was on the ship as happy curiosity starts to become fearful paranoia.
Was the ship attacked by Carthage or Britain?
Had the ship become moored in the ocean?
Was it some publicity stunt?
Or was it something much more horrifying?
As it begins to come into better view, people begin to scream abd take their families away from the beach. There are...things...on the cruise ship. Things that have long been dead.
Shuffling, crawling people who were once alive. They stare at the beach and those terrified people on it like a buffet of the gods laid out for miles for them. A few of them that still retain some sinister intelligence wave at the fleeing families like the tourists of old did.
It quickly becomes apparent that the cruise ship is not just going by, it's drifting TOWARD the beach. If the undead couldn't get through the Eastern Mystic Wall...
They would go around it.
Recruiting in the Shadows
At a small cafe in Nuremberg, Germany...Captain Trevor Maathai sits at an outside table, sipping at some tea. He has his Surface sitting in front of him, looking at something that we can't see. He closes it as someone sits at the table with him.
Maathai: "Basurto."
Sebastian Basutro nods with a tight grin.
Basurto: "Captain Maathai. How are you?"
Maathai: "Better than the folks in Ireland. I'm not a wrestler, if that's what you're here sniffing after, Basurto."
Sebastian chuckles, placing an envelope and sliding it across the table.
Basurto: "I know this. As does Anderson and Walker. I have been sent here for another reason."
Trevor eyes Sebastian and the envelope with suspicion, but picks it up to open it and read the folded paper within. He raises an eyebrow.
Maathai: "Head of Security for Apex Wrestling? I wasn't very good when I was with Warhammer Wrestling. I was a poor replacement for Captain Gideon Rogers."
Basurto: "The war we fight now is different that what was. We need your talents to help us when we go into the dark places where no one wants to venture as to be able to keep our people safe for when agents of the Three Empires find us and take action. You still have contacts within the Warhammer Corporation I'm sure to be able to get us enough of a force so that if we go into a nation that's being threatened that we can be of service. We can't take on our enemies head on and won't be trying, but we will be working to gather allies for an eventual conflict. And for that, we need your skills more than ever. Will you accept?"
Trevor stares at the letter for a long time before answering.
Maathai: "No secrets are to be held from me about anything and when it comes to security, my word is as law. If I say that it's time to evac...we leave right then! No heroic sacrifices on my watch."
Basurto: "I think that this might be good for them. Shall we leave? I have a ScramJet outside of the city."
Maathai: "Let's head out then. I'm tired of sniping at my targets anyway..."
War in the North Sea
"Arr! Send these lubbers ta tha bottom a Davy Jone's locker!"
A parrot flies around seamen in the uniforms of the British Navy on the HMS Bristol. They don't seem to take much notice of it as they work feverishly to get the main cannons of the ship reloaded. The bird aims straight for the ceiling of the cramped room, flying straight through to the outside. On the outside of the ship is only one person standing on the bow of the ship, looking on at the sea battle raging in the North Sea.
Two Icelandic cruisers were caught in British waters and are met with a battleship and two cruisers.
Admiral Bartholomew Kane stands on the bow, the wind not effecting him with a pair of Google Glasses on. He doesn't look the least bit happy as he sees one of his own cruisers get struck by a lucky shot and explode into flames. A bit of shrapnel flies through his chest and into the sea without notice.
Kane: "How lon' does it take yah bilge rats ta load them six pounders? Our shot across the bow was coun'ered by sinkin' one of me ships! Don't be clashin' words wit' the likes o'me or yer'll find yerself swingin' from the jackstaff! Yeah we be speaking of tha Queen's Justice, a knave like yerself will be dancin' wit' Jack Ketch! Now get them six pounders a'loaded an' FIRE!"
The HMS Bristol sways as the main cannons fire in a deadly broadside. Admiral Bartholomew Kane doesn't even bat an eye as the ship lurches from the recoil beneath his feet. The targeted Icelandic cruiser explodes in fury as all shots connect and destroy the fuel banks of the enemy ship. The last ship starts turning to flee back to International waters.
Kane: "Hold yer fire on this one. Ah'll have a walk over there meself and have a right friendly chat, Admiral ta Captain."
One the bridge of the Icelandic cruiser, Captain Jón Stefánsson walks amongst his frightened crew. He tries to be a rock in a storm of fear, but he's rapidly losing ground. It doesn't help when Admiral Bartholomew Kane with a parrot on his shoulder walks through the wall of his ship to stand in front of him. Murmurs of "the Ghost Admiral" flow through the bridge like a breeze, passing through the lips of a crew on the verge of panic.
Admiral Kane takes notice of their fear with a harsh chuckle.
Kane: "Tis a nice little boat ya have 'ere, Cap'n. T'would be a shame to see such a prime lil toy sent to the open arms a' Davy Jones."
Captain Stefánsson shakes his head, keeping his expression calm.
Stefánsson: "We were responding to a distress call from a civilian ship. Nothing more, nothing less."
Kane: "I know, laddie! Who ya thunk set up said call? Arr! Easy pickin's to bring a picaroon like yerself down here ta my sights! Now don't hang a jib, we done run a great, grand rig on ya's."
Captain Jón Stefánsson blinks at Admiral Kane a bit as if uncertain how to feel about such a statement. The parrot on Kane's shoulder chimes in.
Parrot: "He says he tricked ya! He tricked ya! Rawk!"
Stefánsson: "Be gone with you, Ghost Admiral! Tell your Bloody Queen that we will stand firm against her attacks!"
Two of the men in the bridge stand up, aiming side arms at Admiral Kane. He just cackles, walking slowly to Captain Stefánsson, each step against the metal floor sounding like the tread of a giant.
Kane: "What do yah wee strumpets o'er there think they can do to one such as I. Eh? Not a bullet nor blade has harmed one such as meself since the year fifteen hundred and eighty-eight when helping sink the Spanish Armada outside of Ireland in the service of the beautiful, bountiful Gloriana!"
Stefánsson: "Let's test that theory. Fire!"
The crew in the ship open fire on Bartholomew Kane, the shots passing right through. A few of the crewmen fall from ricochets and Captain Stefánsson himself staggers back to the wall behind him with a bullet wound on the right side of his chest. He gasps for air as his right lung begins to deflate. Admiral Kane leans in close with a crooked smile.
Kane: "Such a small wound ye have 'here. A small wound that a rapscallion like meself might ha'e a lil fun with. Treat ya's like a deservin' lil wench that be needin' a lesson or two in humility!"
Bartholomew roughly shoves his finger into the bullet wound on Captain Stefánsson"s chest, but it does not simply pass through. Captain Stefánsson screams out in pain, a spiderweb of dark lines spreading out from the bullet wound.
Kane: "Don't ye be concerned about the black rot. Ye'll be lively enough when we get ye measured fer yer chains in London. Ye're mates on the other hand..."
Bartholomew rips his fingers out of Captain Stefánsson's chest, he screams as thousands of oozey black spheres fly from his wound, causing the spiderweb of black lines fade away. As the black spheres strike the crew members of the ship, the ooze begins to cover them and dissolve their flesh off of their bones. Admiral Kane raises an eyebrow at Captain Stefánsson.
Kane: "As pretty as a grog blossom on a beautiful, busty lass it is! Stand to me hearties!"
The skeleton crew stand up to attention, their uniforms hanging loosely upon their frames. They all snap a salute to Admiral Kane.
Kane: "Let's rejoin the others and 'ead back to London. Ye're former Cap'n here has a date with the gibbet!"
Lunatic in the Dungeon
The deepest, darkest level of the dungeons underneath the Imperial Palace is a dangerous place that goes far beyond being simply dark or deep.
Special generators are in place to hold against the intense pressure of being so far inside of the Earth. A system of tunnels and trains connect the capital cities of the Three Empires along with a few other key locations.
At this moment, we are far under Buckingham Palace.
"Lady Apathy" Elizabeth Devereaux walks into a small dark room. Her cold, imperious eyes scanning the darkness.
Devereaux: "Come out, child. We have much to discuss."
A single word in a language dead before humanity began to walk erect, and nearly twenty candles arranged on the walls spring to life. A young girl with dark hair and a blood stained robe that may have once been blue with a book opened in front of her.
Girl: "Lady Apathy! How good to see you. Have you come to bring me purpose after freeing from the asylum on Killswitch Island?"
Her name is Tabitha Osborne, but if you called her any name except for Zolothatch, you might be given a painful death. She might have been a great wrestler once, except that her father and brother did not really want to train her. Instead, they abused her physically and sexually. That is until the day that she murdered her own family and went on a twenty state killing spree in the United States. She professes to worship the Great Old Ones, while maintaining that she's a High Priestess to Cthulhu. In her worship and delving into hidden secrets that humanity was not meant to know, she has become a powerful witch. She has also tortured her mind beyond repair in her transformation.
Devereaux: "You already have purpose. You are a servant of chaos. I have use for such chaos."
Tabitha grins, but it isn't a grin of normal happiness. It is the psychopathic grin of a broken mind.
Osborne: "Chaos. Madness. They are but simple words used to pretty up the bloody guts of life. Who do you want me to kill?"
Devereaux: "Her Majesty, Druscilla Bathory."
Tabitha's grin widens, the candles in the room blazing with new strength and dancing with violence.
Osborne: "The Daughter of the Shadow Blood? I would love to have the chance to bring her down! I don't know if I really can though."
Elizabeth chuckles, ruffling up Tabitha's hair.
Devereaux: "You won't be going in alone, Zolo. I will be in close support so that if you are defeated, I will sweep in and finish the job. At the very least, I will be near to make sure her consort does not get involved in the fight."
Tabitha frowns, mouthing the word "Consort" over and over again. She grins after a few minutes.
Osborne: "You mean your brother, Nebiryau?"
Elizabeth narrows her eyes.
Devereaux: "You've been in the asylum for six years. A year before the Fourth Punic War. How do you know-"
Osborne: "I hear the whispers through the ether. The spirits beyond have little do do but gossip about the living it seems. No secrets can be without finding their way to my ears. Like you and Miss Salinas. Sexy..."
Elizabeth rolls her eyes, motioning to the door to the room and having it pop open.
Devereaux: "Destiny awaits. You do this deed for me and you will find yourself raised to exhilarating heights."
Tabitha Osborne stands up with a giggle, dusting herself off.
Osborne: "I'm ready."
Blood of the Titan
In the steadily being rebuilt city of Rome in Italy, we find "Guttertrash" Troy Adkins walking down the street in what used to be Vatican City. He glances at the depths of the Cronus Rift and wonders if one could really leap through the Underworld and into the darkest pits of Tartarus from the top of Midgard.
He is dressed in the finery of an Asgardian warrior with his sword at his waist and a shield strapped to his back. He opens the door to a rebuilt Italian eatery and walks in.
The hostess takes him to his table and he waits with a wide grin as the waitress comes to take his order.
Adkins: "I would like a glass of wine, surprise me my dear. Something a little on the dark and heavy side if you could. I would also like to meet with the owner."
The waitress opens her mouth to refuse the man the meeting when she begins blinking in shock. She looks down to see that Troy had placed his hand on her inner thigh and was gliding his hand up her skirt.
Far from being angry at his boldness, she feels herself growing weak from pleasure and pink in the face.
Adkins: "Tell him that Hoskuld Lokison, Asgardian God of Excess, would like to see him on business. That is, in a minute or so..."
The waitress nods numbly as Troy skillfully slides her panties aside and-
Adkins: "Ouch!"
Troy rips his hand back out of her skirt, shaking it in pain. Teeth marks can be seen on his middle finger.
A giggling child with golden blonde hair also falls out of the skirt of the waitress to land on the seat across the table from Troy. The waitress screams and runs to the back to get the boss. Troy looks sternly at the child.
Adkins: "Celes Adkins! I told you to stay home with your Mother and Uncle!"
The five year old little girl just giggles.
Celes: "Is it Celes Adkins? Celes Hoskulddottir? Or should we go with Celes Mills? I mean you have Troy Adkins, Hoskuld Lokison, and Thomas Mills for names. I can have three or four too, can't I? And is Thor my Great Uncle since he's my Grandfather's brother or is he my Step-Father since he's with mom? Uncle Daddy?"
Troy sits back in his chair, rolling his eyes. He was dragged back to Asgard after defeating his opponents in the last ASA show five years ago. He had a minor dalliance with the Lady Sif that resulted in a baby, Celes. She has proven to be more mischievous than her grandfather. He places a dark circle on the table, reaching in to pull out a bottle of Asgardian Mead. He opens it and starts drinking at it.
Adkins: "Your mother is going to tan my hide when she notices you missing again, Celes. The fact that you're with me I'm sure will make it worse."
A plump Italian man with gray hair walks up to the table. He's in an expensive business suit and smiles. Celes vanishes into this air, reappearing next to Troy so the man can sit down at the table.
Adkins: "Fat Tony! How are ya? You managed to stay alive all these years with your new rulers either in a flying castle or sitting upon a mountain!"
Fat Tony just shrugs with a dry chuckle.
Tony: "Even after war and destruction swept through this town like an army of dime store whores, it really comes right down to the simple things. It's who ya know that matters in Rome, just like everywhere else. What can I do for yas, Troy?"
Troy looks around at who could be listening and leans a little closer.
Adkins: "I would like to know if you have really perfected the serum that makes the basis for the drug called Ageless."
Fat Tony opens his mouth in shock, but then closes it and shakes his head.
Tony: "I don't know what you might be in reference to. Ageless is a killer drug, plain and simple. It does not extend your life, it shortens it while making you think you feel younger. High priced acid basically."
Celes giggles lightly, laying on the table to look at Fat Tony in the eyes.
Celes: "He's lying. He's lying! Lying, lying, lying! He's like a bear rug in Uncle Thor's hall!"
Adkins: "Now, Celes, he is only trying to protect himself here. Fat Tony, I'm not here to compete. I'm here to buy! Tell me what else have you done with the blood of the Titan known as Cronus?"
Fat Tony swallows hard, but he can't disguise the greed in his eyes.
Tony: "The blood has to be fresh. If you allow the blood to coagulate before adding in the stabilizers, then it becomes worthless. So, I have people make weekly treks to the mountain that he sits upon and cut open his foot. It's so small of a cut that he doesn't really notice it and we get a barrel of blood collected before covering the wound."
Troy nods in approval while Celes laughs and giggles at the concept.
Celes: "Ha! Foot Blood! Is it stinky? Odin's Beard, tell me it's stinky blood!"
Troy sighs, pulling Celes back into the seat next to him.
Adkins: "Quiet before I send you back to your mother! She might hand you a sword and start putting you through the paces of Valkyrie training again. Do you want that?"
Celes sits down, shaking her head. She places her own portable hole on the table, pulling out a sippy cup full of goat's milk. She sits back and begins to drink.
Tony: "We do put the blood in Ageless, but it isn't a very good formula since the clients tend to die in ways similar to an acid overdose. We have two other formulas that we are working on. One is called Legacy. After a dozen full strength treatments of this, a person becomes an Olympian. Not a God mind you, but an Immortal being with eternal youth. We have diluted the strength of this formula until it never reaches that level of completion. We call this version De Leon. It brings you youth and vitality, but you must buy more or the effect will wear off after a week and your body will rapidly age to its proper age. In some extreme cases, this has meant the death of the user. Our other use of the blood has not really been refined, or really totally understood yet. It seems to be able to send the user back in time? Though so far, no more than a few hours. It's a drug version of the Time Turner in the Harry Potter book. We call it Tardis."
Troy raises an eyebrow at the name.
Adkins: "Tardis?"
Tony: "Yeah. Well it sends you through time and space. We think it could go through to the future, but no one's tried it. And one of the chemists is a big Doctor Who fan so..."
Adkins: "What's the most ambitious use of Tardis?"
Tony: "Skeevy used it one night to go back in time to ten different locations across the same eight hour period to bang ten different girls in the same night. You shoulda seen these girls when they compared notes and went at each other. They all thought that the other girls were lying about sleeping with the same man at the same time in different spots. Lucky that they didn't know about Tardis or Skeevy might be a dead man."
The eyes of Celes go wide with excitement and she vanishes with the sound of a popping bubble. Fat Tony looks at the spot.
Tony: "Where did she go?"
Troy just shakes his head with a laugh.
Adkins: "She is the granddaughter of Loki. I would say that she's telling those girls all about Tardis. So, let's get right to it. I want to order a constant supply. I want Ageless, Legacy, De Leon, Tardis, and the treated blood of Cronus. I'll pay in Asgardian gold and will have a follower of mine come and pick it up every Tuesday. How much? About a hundred doses each of the drugs and a barrel of the blood treated to not coagulate on me. If I come up with anything new and exciting, I'll be sure to offer you a chance to get in on the ground floor. Sound good?"
Fat Tony seems to do the math in his head and smiles.
Tony: "Sounds good. Pleasure doing business wit ya."
With the sound of bubbles popping rapidly, Celes lands on the seat next to Troy.
Celes: "Ooooohhhhh, Skeevy is going to be sssooo dead!"
Troy shakes his head with a laugh.
Adkins: "What am I going to do with you?"
Celes stands up, wrapping her arms around Troy's neck.
Celes: "Love me tender, love me true, and never let me go!"
Adkins: "You're totally not Elvis."
Celes: "Oh pooh I'm not! I'm gonna go mess with Tsar Miranov's head for a bit. Bye!"
Adkins: "Be home for dinn-"
With the sound of bubbles popping, she's gone before Troy can finish speaking. He sighs with a laugh.
Adkins: "Kids. Can't live with them and can't feed them to the Midgard Serpent. Not when her Great Uncle Daddy is Thor anyway."
Tony: "I'll have the first shipment ready by next Tuesday. You coming here to get it? We also have a find blood stew and a blood sausage made from Cronus as well."
Troy shakes his head with a smile.
Adkins: "I'll come here for the shipment, but otherwise I don't eat food. Drugs and booze for me. Thanks."
Meeting with the US President
Inside Central Park, the destruction done to New York City has allowed this jewel of greeness to expand into a forest over the last five years.
It's not easy to tell at a glance, but nearly a hundred trees in the region have one to two men in them. Security personel with the logo of Tendonin Industries on their chest with high powered rifles. They surround a small rusted complex, created from a dozen container boxes.
Inside at a table, sit Allen Anderson, Terel Walker, Jason Tendonin, and President James E Lee.
Jason sits with a tablet in his hands, a small device sitting in the center of the table.
Tendonin: "Mr. President, Ireland has fallen rather quickly to the predations of the British Empire. The world is now watching the United States to determine what to do next. Tendonin Industries will support you in this."
Anderson chuckles, sipping at a whiskey on the rocks.
Anderson: "Director Sebastian Jalabert of the Warhammer Corporation will also support you. He has some trouble in dealing with the British Crown in Canada and would like to see Queen Bathory knocked down a peg or two."
President Lee raises an eyebrow.
Lee: "Jalabert's on board with helping because of some difficulty in doing business instead of some real desire to help?"
Anderson chuckles, draining the rest of his drink.
Anderson: "He loves the United States, but he is a businessman first and foremost. His region within the Warhammer hierarchy is North America. When the other board members interfere with this, he will oppose them. Kirios Spatharsis has been trying to dig his fingers in where ever the British Empire has gone in order to recoup his losses in Europe. So if Director Hakim Firath can be bothered to leave the Tower of Silence, he may also support us. He officially is siding with Spatharsis, but I think this is a vote by proxy."
President Lee shakes his head with a smile.
Lee: "I would comment on Warhammer politics, but ah-"
Anderson: "No need. Just take everything that makes sense, add in a healthy dose of evil, chuck it all in a blender, and there you have it."
Lee: "Well. Intelligence reports show that the British Navy is snooping around Iceland and Greenland."
Tendonin: "I have had people at those nations training to be able to properly defend themselves. We've been arming them over the past five years with weapons, ships, and other equipment. I don't think that her Majesty's little navy can match them."
Anderson: "In Portugal, I contracted out a mystic order known as the Guardians of the Unleashed Soul. They have been working with a company owned by Spatharsis called Unbroken Wall Security to create a barrier to keep out the undead forces in Spain."
Lee: "I have a new naval base in Alaska to defend against the Russian Navy. Pearl Harbor has been upgraded as well. I have new Diplomats sent out to China, Japan, Mongolia, and India to hammer out new treaties and defense alliances."
Anderson pours two new drinks, passing one to President Lee. He pours an iced tea for Terel Walker.
Anderson: "Well, let's hope that everything goes well. Anyone being sent to Africa? South Africa perhaps? Sudan?"
Lee: "I'm still looking for people who are brave enough to go. What about you two? Care to do a tour in Africa? I can send finantial support to go with everything."
Anderson sips at his drink, looking thoughtful.
Anderson: "If the Director of Warhammer Africa heard I set foot in his domain, the assassins would come hot and heavy."
Lee: "Well if you don't want-"
Anderson: "Now, I didn't say that. Just that it'd be dangerous. I'm game for it. What about you, Terel?"
Terel chuckles, leaning back in his chair.
Walker: "Why not? We should do a battle royal or something to get a number one contender for the ASA title. Someone to bring that Troy Adkins down. Maybe the promise of gold will get us some people brave enough to travel to Africa with us. Where to first?"
Anderson: "Ethiopia."
Terel nearly drops his drink, raising an eyebrow at Anderson.
Walker: "Right to one of the border countires to Carthage? Are you sure that's wise?"
Anderson just shrugs, draining his glass.
Anderson: "Ethiopia is in danger from invasion. They will be certain to join hands with President Lee in the face of such danger. So yes, Ethiopia."
Walker: "Well? Ethiopia it is then. President Lee?"
President Lee drains his glass, standing up with a smile.
Lee: "Consider yourselves to be diplomatic representatives of the United States of America! Be careful out there."
Walker: "Thanks. We are honored for the duty."
Regicide
In the throne room at Buckingham Palace, Queen Druscilla Bathory sits on her throne while four military advisers feed her info on troop movements and political leanings from around the entire empire.
A young girl walks though the doorway, blood dripping from a ritual dagger in a white dress so stained with blood as to be pink.
Druscilla doesn't even look in her direction as she reads a tablet computer.
Bathory: "I have waited a long five years for my first assassin to appear. Who do I get for my first would be assassin? The Demon Child of Killswitch Island. Pathetic."
"Zolothatch" Tabitha Osborne giggles, tossing back dark bangs with a bloody hand.
Osborne: "Your guards didn't think I was so pathetic when I killed them."
Druscilla smirks, motioning for her advisers to leave. She waits for them to exit the room before speaking again.
Bathory: "Who sent you? Was it Anderson? Seems like something that he would do. You are not a Catholic assassin or else I would think that the Cardinal would have sent you."
Tabitha only giggles, licking at the bloody blade.
Osborne: "Does it matter who freed me from the asylum to kill you? I will still send you to the waiting tentacles of Cthulhu..."
Queen Bathory stands up with a shrug, slipping her royal coat off and drawing her sword.
Bathory: "I suppose this is true. It doesn't matter really who sent you since you will just die here."
Druscilla makes a motion and Tabitha is quickly surrounded by shadowed versions of Druscilla that quickly fill in with color. Tabitha slashes at the original Druscilla, but her knife merely passes through an illusion.
Bathory: "You think I would stand still so you could cut me? Not that the little knife you carry will do me any real harm."
Osborne: "You are right. Just cutting at you with a knife will do me no good. I should just surrender and accept death..."
A whispered word and Tabitha drops the knife and to her knees.
Osborne: "My vitae is yours."
Druscilla takes Tabitha's shoulders from behind and sinks growing fangs into her neck. A few seconds later, she violently throws Tabitha into the throne, and staggers back onto her butt while gagging.
Bathory: "What have you done to me?"
Tabitha sits up on the throne, a greenish black ooze streaming from the wound in her neck.
Osborne: "Cthulhu protects his own. This is a nice throne. Shards from the body of my master's brother are built into it. They will do a shadow of life like you no good. Me on the other hand..."
Another whispered word and just below the arms of the throne on either side, a black hole diamond thrusts out from within. Twin metallic vortexes project from the stones to strike at Druscilla-
To be stopped by the large sword of Nebiryau.
Nebiryau: "I came as soon as I felt your pain, my love!"
Druscilla Bathory doesn't answer, instead vomiting greenish black ooze onto the floor while on her hands and knees.
Tabitha just sits back in the throne as if she owns the place. Her vile grin in place as the vortexes cease.
Osborne: "The Middle Sibling. You know you can't really stop this from happening. Right? I have sealed away her powers with my spell. Let what must come, come, as was sanctioned by your master."
Silence reigns for a few moments before Nebiryau sheathes his sword while looking down.
Nebiryau: "I know, but the deed won't be done by someone like you. She deserves at least that much."
Druscilla stands up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes shine a brilliant violet in her anger.
Bathory: "What treachery is this? Nebiryau?"
"Who signed the orders to bring Carthage down and sew the fields with salt?"
Druscilla turns to see Elizabeth Devereaux walk into the room, her feet barely touching the floor.
Bathory: "I did. I set into motion the downfall of ancient Carthage and the defeat of the Dark Warlock. Things were different back then. We are allies now! You are my Goddess and Nebiryau is my Consort!"
Elizabeth nods, her obsidian wings unfurling as she stands next to Druscilla.
Devereaux: "This is true, but let's be honest with ourselves. The vengeance that Thamptis sought upon Egypt and Rome is not complete until the person who really caused the pain and suffering has paid."
Druscilla backs away from Elizabeth and Nebiryau, the violet glow in her eyes fading as the spell sealing her powers away does its work.
Bathory: "There would not have been victory in Rome if not for me! I brought Nebiryau back to life after he was slain by Bacchus! It was my manipulations that led to Ionis Miranov to becoming Tsar of an Imperial Russia! I am the reason there is Three Empires! Without my help at the last, Thamptis himself would have been destroyed by that Chinese hedge witch's spell! These deeds should absolve me of any guilt in bringing Carthage down in the first place!"
Devereaux: "All true. You will be honored after your passing for what you did to help secure victory for the Fourth Punic War. You still must pay though. For what it's worth...I am sorry."
Druscilla looks from Nebiryau to Elizabeth to Tabitha. Her anger fades away from hot coals to defeated ashes.
Bathory: "Then, I am ready. My love, will you please do the honors? I would like to go in a manner of my own choosing."
Nebiryau draws his sword solemnly.
Nebiryau: "Of course."
Bathory: "One last kiss goodbye?"
Nebiryau leans in to kiss Druscilla, but she slams her palm into his chin. She grabs his sword from his hands and spins with it to connect the flat of the blade into the side of his head.
Bathory: "I am still the Queen of the British Empire! None can bring me down! Thamptis will rue the day that he decided to have me executed!"
Druscilla swings the sword at Elizabeth, but black smoke around her hand forms into a lithe sword that parries the blow. She turns upon seeing movement and parries a slash with the ritual dagger from Tabitha.
Bathory: "Your harlot spell won't keep me down! Already my system is burning though your venom! You did on this day, bitch!"
Druscilla smashes the front of Tabitha with the flat of the sword, sending her rolling backwards into the throne.
Tabitha stands up quickly, spitting blood onto the floor.
Osborne: "You want harlot magics? Behold the dominance of Cthulhu!"
Tabitha cuts open her wrist with the ritual dagger, the blood spraying out in thick liquid greenish black ropes that form hands on the end with each holding a similar ritual dagger. Over a dozen daggers stab and slash at Druscilla, sweeping past her defenses to open up slashing and piercing wounds.
Druscilla backs up while hissing in pain, cutting through the black oozy arms with Nebiryau's sword.
Bathory: "I am immortal! No Cthulhu spawned bitch will-"
Druscilla stops talking and drops the sword as Elizabeth's sword is thrust through her chest from the back.
Bathory: "No..."
Nebiryau staggers to his feet as Elizabeth's sword dissipates back into smoke.
Druscilla drops to her knees, her blood flowing hot and fast from her chest once the venom flows out. Nebiryau picks up his sword.
Nebiryau: "For the last vengeance of Carthage and the Dark Warlock! Goodbye, Druscilla Bathory."
Nebiryau swings the sword, lopping off Druscilla's head in a single stroke. Before the head hits the ground, he holds out an empty hand with the palm facing her.
Nebiryau: "Stone of Red."
A bright blaze instantly transforms Drsucilla's body and head into ashes.
Nebiryau: "It is finished."
Tabitha Osborne dances through the ashes with a girlish giggle. Nebiryau smacks her in the back of the head, sending her sliding away. She gets up with murder in her eye.
Nebiryau: "What we did today was done with a heavy heart. Do not disrespect the moment with your childishness!"
Tabitha opens her mouth to speak in anger, but then sees Elizabeth nod at her. She bows her head quickly.
Osborne: "Of course, Lord Nebiryau and Lady Apathy. My aplogies. My childishness gets away from me sometimes."
Devereaux: "Stand up, child. It is expected with you spending your teen years in Killswitch Island. We must go and inform people of the change of ownership for the British Empire. Imagine their horror when they learn that a French born rules their nation once again."
Osborne: "The Queen is dead, Long live the Queen!"