#koyos

Review: Green Lantern #11

Review: Green Lantern #11[Editor’s Note: This review may contain spoilers] Writer: Geoffrey ThorneArt: Tom Raney, Marco Santucci & Maria Laura SanapoColors: Mike AtiyehLetters: Rob Leigh Reviewed by: Matthew B. Lloyd Summary It’s John Stewart vs. Koyos with the Justice League in tow for good measure, but will they stop Koyos before the impending Purge Strike by the United Planets? Positives The…

What the Mountain Brings

The campfire sparkled and snapped. The hues of the starry sky shined in pure silver light, mixed with the aurora of greens and whites and purples high above. The mountain’s shape loomed dark and unforgiving with no details to note, and it cast no shadow though it blocked the light just like the void.

           The fire crackled, drawing open Koyos eye. The red flames were strong and warm, the darken wood beginning to crumble both into its stone pit and the sand around him. The knowledge of cold stone and brambles above sliding in and out of taller bushes reminded him of where he was; Tiragarde.  

           An ear twitched. The fire had dwindled down to smoldering coals, and the cold had grasped him thinly in its small fingers. Koyos shivered, shaking away the lethargic heaviness in both mind and body.

           He shortly rose, grabbed two medium size logs, and set them carefully into the pit. A little extra dry moss and wilting grass ignited the flames and engulfed the wood.

           Koyos sat down, slipping low against the stone wall, allowing his eyes to shut close once more.

Review: Green Lantern #8

Review: Green Lantern #8[Editor’s Note: This review may contain spoilers] Writer: Geoffrey ThorneArt: Chrisscross with Juan Castro (inks pgs. 9-15) and Marco SantucciColors: Michael AtiyehLetters: Rob Leigh   Reviewed by: Matthew B. Lloyd   Summary John receives a revelation about himself from Lonar and Jo must bring the depowered Lanterns on Oa together quickly as she and Peya Fel have a solid…

Review: Green Lantern #9

Review: Green Lantern #9[Editor’s Note: This review may contain spoilers] Writer: Geoffery ThorneArt: Tom Raney and Marco Santucci & Maria Laura SanapoColors: Michael AtiyehLetters: Rob Leigh Reviewed by: Matthew B. Lloyd Summary John Stewart learns more about his ‘ascension’ and Jo Mullein figures out what’s going on with Koyos , but maybe just a little bit too late. Positives For many years the…

What the Mountain Brings

Campfire

The swish of a blade, the barred fangs of a tan-skinned elf, the dance-like movements of muscle against skin; Koyos came swopping down to one knee, his warglaives following him with pulsating green energy. A scream echoed, an ear twitched, and Koyos found his legs pushing him up, his elbow tucking in as his warglavies spun with him, another heavy thud hit the ground.

           As he came to his feet, with warglaives protectively at his sides in each hand, Koyos counted three more plated man before him. They were spread out, which he gave them due credit, but a second ago they had been closer together, charging him from the front and fanning out as if to engulf him.

           The men hesitated before him, long spears pointed at him, one pointed slightly up. That one belonged to a tall, brutish looking man, yet his legs shook, and his core was rigid.

           Koyos took a step forward, bared his teeth, and for added effect let the demonic words slip through his voice. The rigid one dropped his weapon and ran. Koyos caught the lump of laughter in his throat, as he turned his attention to the other two.

           They had spread out, now with unsteady arms.

           Koyos swallowed his demonic words, and out came the language he knew these humans would understand. “Leave and I will not chase.” His voice rang clear and crisp, causing the callous echo of his taint to be heard without question.

           The two men looked at each other, then back at him. A second ticked by, then another. The diming light of sun was setting into dark purples and thin reds. The mountain’s wind brushed over them, catching Koyos long strands of loose black hair and stealing away the warmth that had come to his joints. The world was quiet and serene.

           One of the humans slowly lowered his spear, set it on the ground, and rose with his hands up as he begun to back away. The second human hesitated, but as Koyos took a step over the fallen body below him, the man quickly lowered his spear.

           They ran after that, down the path they had all come up. A ridge that was too steep to see over from either direction and had so unceremoniously placed the patrol of six Kul'tiras humans and the demon hunter together. As one, both sides had stilled upon seeing each other. Each taking in the other with shock and disbelief, perhaps even cursing their bad luck, and then with realization too the six to one odds. The leader of the patrol cried out and all six charged the demon hunter.

           Koyos looked over his shoulder, as the last bit of the sun’s red flames lined the last shadows of the days, taking in the three bodies of dead guards.

An ear twitched, a man subtle gasp of breath.

           Koyos tucked away one of his warglaives and slowly, quietly, stepped around the bodies. The first one was dead, quiet so, he had struck the man firstly in the chest piercing armor and straight through the heart. The second one he was certain had gotten a deep cut and should have bleed out by now. The third one had gotten the last tail end of his attack, a side-sweep up. He must have not put enough strength into the spin. As he turned away from the second body, his ear twitched behind him.

           The gasp of the man drew his eyes wide; the second one was still alive.

Koyos kicked over the man, and like a startled and wounded creature, the man’s last remaining energy tensed his body. He cried out, “Please, please.” Koyos lifted the flaps of his cloth from his eyes. A tense amount of blue magic mixed in with a deep green brightened the area, darkening others. Through the plated armor, Koyos could see the wound. The fel taint was already beginning to darken the skin.

           “I’m sorry,” Koyos said as he drew his blade up. “You may pray to your god.”

The elf kicked up her boots on the log, leaned backwards against her backpack, allowing her cool, silver eyes focused upon Koyos. Well, that was how she moved according to Koyos eyes, but the rest of the world had simply seen her appear in that resting position under the dim light of the campfire with starry skies glittering high above and shadows everywhere else. 

He pretended she wasn’t there, switching his unnerved fingers from the weapons that laid near him to the wooden stick instead; the fire flared to life with the poke of wood. 

“Now that the war has ended,” Her voice was smooth and flat, a roar surrounded by whispers. Koyos ears twitched. “What are you ever going to do with yourself?”

“Are we leaning towards another attempt to draw me back to the night elves?”

A thin line of her smile revealed a sharp fang. 

“My skin no longer matches, my eyes glow green, and I smell of the very thing we all distate.” He let the roughness of his voice emanate louder as if that would all that be needed to convince her to end the conversation. 

“Get some paint for your skin, keep the blindfold on, and maybe put a charm or two on to make the idea more believable.” 

A snort of a chuckle echoed. “Even if I was interested,” he stressed, looking up towards her stressing the words purposefully, “What part of me would change?”

“We could work together again, walk the streets, join me over at the tents for a drink instead of secluding yourself to these woods.” She leaned forward as she spoke, boots falling off the logs, her arms and torso moving purposefully towards him as if her nearer presence could convince him.

“I like the woods.” He said and leaned back against the tree he was near by; the air grew colder. “I like the freedom to do what I wish with the Horde. If you remember, that was my reason for leaving.”

She relaxed, returning her boots back upon the log. “I remember a different reason.”

There came a hum of silence where night bugs took with welcome buzzing and chirping. 

“You know those people are well dead now, no one is looking for you.”

“Many think I am dead.”

“A true hero.” She chuckled dryly. “You could have came back.”

He let out a long sigh, “Can we fasten this conversation to the end where I say no, and you leave it at that?”

She rolled her eyes, leaned back, and huffed. “They destroyed your home, you know.”

Koyos tighten. Flames licked in his minds eye, screams of the dying, bodies of the dehydrated and the burned. There he had found her, like all the other bodies, burned and sweatless, but she was different. She had been breathing. He remembered breathing her name, finding that her body was suddenly before him, reaching out and feeling a pulse, and then dragging her lean form over his shoulder and dragging her through the flames and too the alliance portals. 

Demon Hunter’s all look a like. Demon Hunters choose a side. Who were they to know if he was not alliance or horde? They took her then, ushered him through the portals, and through the other side he felt heavy and light-headed. 

What the Mountain Brings

Campfire

The Flamed Sunset

Dawns Sleep

 “Ah it took you longer than I expected, Demon Hunter.” The brutish green arm casually took the piece of paper out of Koyos hands, a smug grin was on his lips as he began to read it over. “Good, good,” he said partially to himself, then with a sharp glance up snorted, “Why are you still here?”

              “My payment.”

              “Ah, yes,” he grunted, and turned heading back to the few tables lining the port of Zuldazar.

              How things had changed.

              Small patches of armored orcs were standing in lines as their commanders barked order. Vendors had been set up from all the races. Goblins running around with broken gadgets in their hands. Undead patrolling the streets, slowly and meticulous. Elves, not surprisingly, were missing; the nightbourne had taken their place, but even they were few in numbers.

              “Here.”

              Koyos turned his attention back to the hunched over orc. His dark eyes glowed with impatience as Koyos carefully took the small pouch from his thick fingers. Unstringing, and pouring out the pouch’s contents, there were three shiny pieces of gold. Koyos wrapped his hands around them and tossed the pouch back to the orc.

              The creature hardly seemed pleased.

              Koyos dipped his head and said his thanks as he turned to carry away.

              “You got another job waiting for you elf?”

              Koyos stopped, looking over his shoulder.

              “Not as heavily priced, but,” the Orc shuffled along some papers that were spread out on his table. “There’s been words that a group is attempting to raid some prison on the other island,” he snorted. “Been about a week in preparation, and they are short a man.”

              Koyos dipped his head, more in thought this time around.

              Without a word, he walked away, keeping his eyes on the many steps upwards.  

What the Mountain Brings

Campfire

The Flamed Sunset

The fire snapped, sending flames of breathing coals into the air, brightening the lackluster sky and the purple-skin elf across from Koyos. The woman was dressed in all black leathers, tight as skin tight could be without causing to much restrain; not much different from his reinforced leathers, though his color pattern could be considered livelier. Her eyes shown a soft yellow glow as the living coals sputtered out of life and fell harmlessly out of sight.

           Her eyes shifted ever so coldly upon Koyos, slowly, cautiously, and with desire; his skin prickled.

           “I heard a little rumor,” she started, stretching out her long legs while carefully arching her back behind as she sprawled out like a cat soaking in the moonlight.

           When Koyos didn’t fall for her bait, she continued, “That Kul’tiras has a warning to stay out of this specific area. Horde occupants and all.” She paused, clearly giving him the chance to speak. He did not. “A blood elf demon hunter, highly aggressive.” Her lips curled up into a little smirk.

           Koyos threw a log upon the fire. “Did you come all this way to warn me?” The flames licked at the wood, crushing the hollowed-out husk of the log underneath.

           “You know there are many bounties and warnings being passed by Alliance lips?” she mused.

           “Yet you found me,” he paused, “Again.”

           She chuckled, a sweet sound; he found himself scowling.

           “Indeed. Truth be told, I came looking for the bounty. Do my rightful Alliance pride, you understand?”

           He shifted, leaning back against the bed rock.

           The silence passed for a short time leaving only the fire’s crackle, the soft whine of the wind, and the busy buzzing of bugs.

           “I see something’s never change,” she said. “Ten thousand years,” she paused mulling over that word, tasting it with disguist. “Ten thousand, you know, and you still refuse to choose a side.”

           “How could I when I was cast to one side?” Strangely, he expected those words to hiss out that age old hatred. But tonight, with her across from him, her skin unchanged, beautiful and transfixed…

           “Do I sense regret?” she toyed playfully, uncurling herself and leaning far into the campfires. The flames illuminated her deep purple skin, reducing the glow of her yellow eyes to those of large saber.

           “You hear things,” he said.

           She laughed. “So,” she leaned back against the bedrock, her arms stretching out, her eyes glowing once more, “Tell me what happened.”

           “It was a mistake.”

           She was silent, and it was too dark to see any twitch of her ears, or the shape of her lips so far from the flames; these eyes are both a blessing and a curse.

           “The Hunter missed?” She toyed with a crooked tone to her lips.

           Koyos took a breath, letting it out slow and whispery. “We came up on each other’s blind spots,” he started, reflecting on the one and only confrontation of the week. “No one knows how to react properly when they see a Demon Hunter.” Surprisingly, he hissed the term with venom and spite.

           Silence laid its claim once more.