PART III-2: A Docked Thing. [FANFICTION]

[spoiler]This is a fanmade tale set after the events of Forsaken. If you do not like seeing fanfiction in the #lore subforum then please feel free to mute my tags or my profile. I do post twice as many lore topics as fanfiction so you may not see a few posts but likely nothing you'd miss. Cheers![/spoiler] [spoiler]This side story is set after my third post and is a bridge between it and the upcoming part four, hence III-2. I pray you enjoy it.[/spoiler] --Docked Things Do Not Word Themselves.- Misraaks, Fallen Captain.-- The massive Ketch glided over the feral wilds of the dead earth. Below the ship's prow was a murky river, covered in the refuse of a golden past. As the ship flew over the face of the waters, it parted the waves of the river, sending the spray over its banks. But all was not quiet under the Eliksni craft, for the thieves were traversing the muck of the Eastern Flood Zone. The spires of sickly seeder ships appeared to come out of every building and every stretch of land. Around the spires, masses of worms wriggled and squirmed to emerge from the earth. A Hive knight patrolled the breeding ground laboriously, watching over what would grow to become the disease of the universe. Ririksis, a lowly dreg, watched the the Hive infected landscape in wonder. Were these worms truly the great evil that had destroyed his homeworld? He had never seen his home, these pathetic, wet worms had destroyed it. The Hive were hateful, all Eliksni bore an undying loathing of them. But these Worms, Ririksis thought, they were the real instigators of the Eliksni's Fall. But there was nothing a dreg such as he could do about it. So Ririksis clung to the old banner in a bannerless age. Sometimes a fleeting thought of House Dusk entered his mind, how the dregs of purple cloth were no longer docked. They were Eliksni. His captain had refused to lay down his colors when the Siege for the Great Machine had ended. He had said that Devils were all they were, and so should they remain. But did the dregs of his crew choose to remain Devils? No, for docked things do not word themselves. Suddenly, a watcher on the observation deck cried out a report, "Dan. Di!" A Hive entrenchment lay just up ahead. Instantly the whole Ketch was alive with action. Vandals reached for their long wire rifles. Captains mounted there horned helmets upon their grimaced faces. Their Kell, Thelksis, watched his swarm of cutthroats proudly as they prepare for war. Ririksis looked up hopefully at the rack of weapons near at hand. Was today his day to earn his honor? He stood proudly to lay hold of a weapon that would secure his worth. But as he rose, a surly vandal rushed by, his secondary arms hitting the little dreg on his mask. The dreg watched helplessly from the floor as the vandal took the best weapon. Ririksis stood again and advanced on the wrapons. He reached for a small shotgun like implement hanging beside a poor shock pistol. Before he could grab this shotgun, another dreg threw itself into him, knocking him off his clawed feet. Before Ririksis had a chance to see who had hit him, the weapon was gone. He looked at the shock pistol with something akin to dismay in his four eyes. Resigned to another day without renown, he muttered under his breath, "Ne das has ma dis." ************************************************************************* Ririksis clung to the sides of the battered skiff, screaming his cries of war to the mass of Hive warriors. He would prove himself, he just had to. For the Great Machine. A wicked knight's crossbow spat a dart toward the skiff. The deadly bolt sped past Ririksis' face as it embedded itself in a vandal not an arm's length away from him. At the same moment, the command was given to dive to the battlefield. A dozen Eliksni dropped to the ground at once, following the unfortunate vandal's limp form to the ground. Ririksis scurried behind the largest barrier he could find: an old, flaky, and rusty car overgrown by morning glories. There was nothing glorious about this morning. As the saber wielding captains and vandals closed with the knights and acolytes, Ririksis and the other dregs took pot-shots at the rapidly advancing line of thrall. As a hideous thrall moved to take the small dreg by sheer force and speed, Ririksis unsheathed his shock dagger. The thrall ran with a possessed fury. It lurched forward under the weight of its muck and evil. The dreg prepared his dagger for the plunge, steeling himself for his first kill in months. It was only a thrall, but it was a start. Suddenly, a loud crack of gunfire pealed from somewhere above Ririksis. At the same time, the thrall he had been about to fight burst out in a blaze of deadly fire. The thrall was dead in an instant. It's body seemed to disintegrate and blow away in the wind. Ririksis' eyes fell on the wriggling worm that was all that was left of the thrall. It's frantic movements reminded him of himself, of his pitiful attempt at self-fulfillment. He mercifully squashed the worm under his heel. Instinctively, Ririksis looked to see what had taken his kill. What he saw sent a cold shiver of fear down his bony spine. A guardian, with cannon in hand, was vaulting from the top of a derelict building and into the battlefield. It wore a long cloak with a cowl that seemed to hide its face from view. Watching in terror, the dreg fled behind a large rock as the Hunter drew, sighted, and threw a knife at a nearby vandal in one deft motion. Ririksis could not understand what the Lightbearer and it's little light were saying but it could distinctly hear the casual tone it took as it fought. The small light spoke, "To think that this ugly place was the source of the Hive on Earth... Makes you wonder what would have happened if we stopped them sooner." The etherless little servitor waited for a response from the Hunter. None came as the Hunter whipped out his combat bow and sent two racing shafts into the nearest knight. " Zahn! Are you even listening?! " "Huh," Erun Zahn responded as he snatched the arrows out of the knight's useless corpse. " you were talking? You don't want me to narrate this do you? " The little light rolled its eye, "No we can do that later." " Because it's kinda-, " a fallen bullet hit Zahn in the leg with rapid force. "Ungh! Hard to hold a conversation when you're being shot!" Turning in place, the Hunter proceeded to launch a knife that found the Eliksni right in the chest. Despite his fear of the lightbearer, the dreg could not help but wonder at the flippant discourse between the two. Just as he had these thoughts, however, he realized the unprecedented opportunity he had to kill a thief of the Great Machine. Ririksis rose from his position, pistol in hand, ready to shoot. Surely there has never lived as unlucky a psakiks sack as Ririksis the docked. For as he rose to attempt a shot at the ghost, there rose before him a wicked, blackened knight of the Deep. The dreg closed his eyes as the knight swung to end his life. "Ne shan des..." He muttered softly as he waited for the finale of his so-far unproductive life. But the knight died, not Ririksis. As he opened two eyes, he could see a long arrow protruding from the knight. As the knight and his armaments clattered to the ground, the docked Eliksni saw the Hunter look at him. Then, amazingly, the guardian turned to continue fighting the hive. Ririksis fell bodily to the ground. Had that ba really just saved his life? Or had he merely moved on to a more dire threat? Honor among Eliksni was a precious commodity these days, but most all Fallen recognized honor when they saw it. Ririksis decided that whether the Light-spawn had meant to spare him or not it was in his best interests that he not fight the guardian. ************************************************************************** As the three way slaughter dredged on into the evening, the pathetic dreg had no more to his name then he had been born with. He let his legs drop out from beneath himself, allowing himself to fall into the marshy turf. He sank several inches into the blood mingled mush as he sat there, exhausted. He turned his attention back to the vicious lightbearer and it's servitor of light. "Gah!" Zahn muttered as he deftly dodged the bolts from a knight's boomer. " There's no end to all these cursed insects! " As Ririksis watched he saw a hallowed knight stalk behind the Hunter. It's massive splinter crossbow was leveled at the form of the guardian's ghost. They had no idea how close to mortality they were. "You're the one who wanted to explore the old east coast," The ghost said, oblivious of its impending doom. " I tried to warn you. " The knight's morbid claw wrapped itself around the trigger while it's third eye intently gazed upon its prey. In days after, Ririksis would often contemplate what he did that day. What was his motive as he raised his pistol towards the knight's head? Was his intent of selfish gain or was he inclined to return the favor to the being that had spared him? Whatever the reasoning, there was one less monster on earth and one more in hell after Ririksis took his shot. The wicked abomination fell dead to the ground as it's intended target, the guardian, fought on with no knowledge of what had transpired. <Continued Below>