#zerriko

The throne room was quiet. A cold wind rustled the hanging tapestries and the cloaks of the men and women standing guard. Asmund sat upon his throne, a single front claw clicking on the gray stone. A dignitary stood nervously before the great dragon, wringing his hands behind his back. The fire light was dim this evening, throwing dark shadows across the keep’s walls.

“You want me,” snapped the dragon, angrily looking down from his dias, “to pay you for what exactly?”

The dignitary, an Imperial woman, looked up, “Rovirddare has been charging unfair tariffs for goods coming in and out of Enlevia. We only ask you repay Enlevia for the economy you’re damaging.” The woman looked up at him with green eyes, her tan skin hiding beneath heavy furs and a red Enlevian cloak. Her black hair was tied smartly back. Asmund, for his part, managed not to laugh in her face. 

“I owe Enlevia nothing, and nor are my taxes unfair.” The dragon shift slightly upon his shining white throne, the cerulean pillow beneath him easily the size of a small hut. “The Council of Apothecaries are only that: apothecaries. They know nothing of economics.” Asmund lowered his head, stretching his neck to get to eye level with the diplomat, “They are old doctors, nothing more. I charge what I do to ensure the safety of all within my realm.”

“My Lord Baron,” clamored the woman, losing her patience, “it cost me money to get into the country! I’m an official state courier! You charge three hundred gold pieces per cart for caravans to get through your nation! Surely Draconia has mentioned they’re merchants’ unwillingness to pay!”

Asmund’s visage was overcome with a predatory grin, his teeth casting nasty shadows, “Draconia has agreed to my price, as the materials which they transport are quite important. As is Enlevia’s. Unless, of course, the Council doesn’t want me to protect your merchants?” The dragon brought his head back, continuing to make a show of being overly comfortable. “I need not waste resources on them, then. Is that what you wish?”

The woman began to stutter in her outrage, “H-how dare you, Lord Baron! That i-is absolute r-robbery!” Arguing with a dragon was a dragon’s job. Or an angel’s, Asmund thought to himself, shaking his head in frustration. That was for another time. 

“The cost of protection stays, then,” Asmund decreed, standing. “You are free to stay on The White Mountain this evening, if you wish. It is too cold to go out, anyhow. You are dismissed.” The dignitary angrily bowed, her movements stiff and overly formal. She stomped out of the keep, escorted by two guards.

“I will not be disturbed this evening,” said the dragon to no one in particular. Two guards salute, placing their fists over their chests. Asmund waved them off and retreat to his person chambers. Down a myriad of winding hallways he went, each lit less and less by flame and more and more by white and blue crystals. They emanate magic, warning the dragon of any intruders.

After a few minutes, Asmund arrived at the center of the keep. His chambers were not sparse, by any means. The room itself was almost a half a mile square of gray stone. The roof was four stories above, the roof magically sealed whenever he was not flying in. At the far end of the room lay a massive, dragon-sized pillow, its ruby red and golden trim contrasting with the typical white, silver, or blue he usually went with. All around, sconces and crystals embedded in the wall illuminated the room. In the center stood a two story tall, awesomely massive pile of treasure. Gold bars, suits of armor, silver coins, adamantine weapons, mithril shirts, and much more were found there, collected over his long life span. 

Stacked neatly, however, covering almost every inch of the massive circular room were barrels. Hundreds of thousands of gallons of mead, wine, beer, and other liquors lined his lair. Every barrel lovingly placed, labeled, and dated, all from different worlds, different distilleries and breweries. Some of them Asmund had made himself, others he had bought or taken from every corner of ever plane. Dominarian wine, Lorwyn beer, Ravnican whiskey, Jarguund mead. 

Admiring his hoard, Asmund climbed his mountain of treasure and lazily slid down the other size, finally coming to rest on his massive bed. Curling up on the pillow, Asmund fought for sleep. It wouldn’t come.

The previous week’s events flood his mind. Caravans attacked. His daughter’s funeral. His revenge. His poorly executed evening plans with Ivaria. The myriad of planeswalkers who came to scold or challenge him.

Sad, really, he thought, picking his teeth with an ancient longsword, covered in diamonds, I really would have liked to eat one of them. He chuckled, tossing the sword, listening for it’s harsh clang against steel, stone, or gold. Preferably that Alek. He DARED challenge me? In my own home? Ha! Asmund rolled over angrily, clicking his tongue to dim the lights. Threatening to harm Jarguund. A very brave move. Foolish, but brave. He narrowed his eyes at nothing in particular, I would cleanse the multiverse of his bloodline, should anything happen to my plane. His blood boiled.

Not to mention the others! Malku, damn him, being entirely too warm and trying to force his listening ear on me. At least he apologized. Asmund rolled again, his tail knocking over an armor stand and a priceless suit of mithril plate. Zerriko, that blasted fool. He could take no for an answer, thankfully. And Lucian! Couldn’t even be bothered to show up himself. Asmund snorted. Stabbed. Poisoned! He should be able to walk it off. Weak. 

Finally, the dragon came to the root of his problem: Isolde. That damnable angel. He angrily spat a ball of ice toward the ceiling, where it smashed into the roof, showering him with ice shards. Both of them. They could never see eye to eye on such matters as that. Those people lost their innocence when they harbored murderers. The dragon stood, spun about, and lay down again, creating a snow ball above his head, sending it spinning before him. Yet she did not argue that with me. Ivaria was hurt by my actions and intent, though I did not mean to do so. 

I do not look down upon her, he thought, shaking his head, she is very strong. I just thought she was prepared. Asmund snarled, sending the snowball into the far corner of his lair, where it dissipated on the magical shield surrounding it. I suppose I should have left out creating Fyri’s Well. I’m certain it reminded her of Zendikar. He sighed. Those damned Eldrazi. He had fought many years ago against them, deciding to leave the plane to its fate when the beings had almost escaped. The destruction they had wrought was akin to my own. 

Maybe it was too much, Asmund’s mind raced, maybe it was unnecessary. He shook his head, No, it was not enough. Yet, my relationship with Ivaria rests on thin ice, and I am a heavy dragon. Neither of us can fly from this. Asmund sighed, laying his massive head on his front claws. Perhaps I should apologize, as Isolde suggested. Yet, I would not want to treat her as a child. Ivaria is strong, and an adult. Just naive. He snorted, flicking his tongue out, Yet, she is learning. Perhaps I will let her come to me. That sit well with his pride. 

I do not think either of those angels will change my heart. Asmund paused, rolling onto his back, casting a quick spell to iris the roof open. As he gazed at the familiar stars above, he thought, Yet, they already have changed my heart. I cherish them both deeply. I do not wish to push either away, and we cannot pretend that conversation never occurred. Angrily he curled a foreclaw into a fist and hit his armored chest. No, it happened. I will apologize, for her sake. I will not lose another daughter, not by my own claw.

Jack arrived on Ravnica, it had been some time since he first traveled away from Innistrad, about a month or so to be exact. He was searching the planes for a cure for his condition, every night he blacked out and he always awoke covered in blood that was not his own, the serum he had developed may not have killed him, but it was turning him into a monster, he could feel it lasting longer every day, and that scared him. Jack went searching for a library, hoping he could find something, anything to help him.

Somewhere else, Zerriko was in his home experimenting with the lagac spinal powder Anwyn had given him. He wasn’t really focused on it though, his head was swimming with thoughts on the twin phyrexians in the undercity, and how Anwyn had acted the other day. On the matter of the phyrexians, he knew that he couldn’t trust them as far as he could throw them, but if they were left to their own devices they could cause serious damage, and killing them would simply spread the plague in their oily blood. However, he knew getting Maris to agree to tolerate their presence wouldn’t be easy either.

On the topic of Anwyn, he just didn’t know what to think about her anymore before she seemed to be honest, granted it was quite brutal, but he could trust what she could say. But after she asked about his path and he repaid that honesty with his own she seemed to change, she wasn’t acting like she normally did. It was a shame, he really enjoyed her company. She seemed to understand the side of him that others hadn’t seen, his inner hunter, the part of him that lived for the thrill of the chase. He pushed those thoughts aside for now, he had work to do right in front of him, perhaps mixing the substance with belladonna or nightshade would produce interesting results?

Yet again somewhere else, Belthor was on patrol, life seemed to be looking up for him. He had successfully joined the Boros legion and made a good friend in the process, he had a place to stay, and he had even met another person from his world and she was very lovely. Of course there was a downside to starting over, he was still used to commanding troops, and well cadets were on the bottom of the food chain. He had another Wojek assigned to be his mentor, Sergeant Alessia, she was stern so far but not overly so. This evening’s patrol was quiet so far, there were a few drunken rabble to clear up, but nothing beyond that.

Still, Belthor couldn’t help but feel on edge tonight, he kept his eyes open for anything suspicious. “There something wrong cadet?” Alessia said she could tell something was bothering him.

“No ma’am, just a bad feeling, tis nothing to worry about.” Belthor replied. Nothing else was said, they continued to walk along their designated patrol route.”

Jack was in a dark alley now, he wasn’t the same Jack that had arrived on Ravnica. This Jack had a hideous toothy grin, and his eyes were wide and unblinking. He picked up three scents, one smelled like poison and… potatoes? Of the other two, he could smell fear on one of them, and on the other he could smell the fruit scented soap they had used the night before. He decided to stalk the pair, he didn’t feel like dealing with prey that was potentially poisonous.

Belthor kept his eyes open, he didn’t know if his eyes were playing tricks on him, but he could have sworn he’d a figure moving in the shadows, humanoid in shape, but faster than any man he’d ever seen. He looked to Alessia, she seemed uneasy as well, he could see that she was sweating.

“Sergeant, did you see it too?” Belthor asked, he was formulating a plan

“I did cadet, stay on your guard, I think whoever or whatever this thing is it’s toying with us, probably an escaped imp from some Rakdos pit.” She had a light shake in her voice, this wasn’t something she had encountered before, and from what Belthor knew about imps, they were never this cunning.

Zerriko walked through the empty streets, he could hear something scuttling, but it was moving in a direction away from him. He decided to investigate, things don’t usually scuttle in this area at night and he had all of his bounty hunting gear anyways, and an addition to that, he had found an old suit of studded leather armor among his collection, it was as protective as chain mail, but it was lighter, something that suited him perfectly. Before he could start though he heard a painful scream from a block away, he drew his steel sword and drank one of his reflex enhancement potions, then he ran towards the sound of the struggle.

Belthor reacted in an instant, the thing stalking them had made its move, jumping out of an alleyway and slicing Alessia along her side, she howled in pain and fell down to her knees, clutching her side. Belthor drew his longsword, it wasn’t quite what he was used to, but it would have to do. He could see the man in front of him, he was hunched over with a hideous grin on his face. In his right hand he held a knife, now covered in blood. He looked Belthor in his eyes, he could tell he was crazed, but there was something else too, it seemed like regret.

Jack charged Belthor, it was reckless and almost animalistic, but he was inhumanly fast, he laughed hideously the whole time. Belthor was ready though, he slammed his shield into his face, more than enough force to knockout a normal man and followed up with a slash with his sword to Jack’s leg. Jack howled in pain from the injuries but he got back up and seemingly unfazed by the attack. Jack lunged once more, this time his blade caught true and sunk into Belthor’s side. This time Belthor yelled in pain, and he felt something affecting him, it was definitely poisoned with something. He couldn’t support himself on his own legs anymore, he fell to his knees. “You know, you put up more of a fight than most of my prey, perhaps I’ll carve you up while you’re still awake” He looked to Alessia “Or maybe I’ll let you watch me carve her up, you-” He was interrupted when a crossbow bolt struck him in his side, he rigidly froze up and a man came around the corner.

“Well well well, what kind of scene do we have here? Two injured wojeks and a homicidal maniac with a bloody knife, and I thought tonight was going to be boring. That paralyzing agent should wear off in a few seconds, when it does this can go down one of two ways, either you fight me and lose, or you run and I catch you, neither are favorable to you. Think about your options now.” He looked to Belthor and Alessia. “You two get yourselves some medical treatment, and tell Captain Maris Zerriko showed up, he knows who I am”

Belthor could see the look in the maniacs eyes, there was fear there, and just like the other man had said the paralytic wore off and the other man ran in an instant, straight into a nearby alley way, the other man chased after him. Belthor slowly got to his feet and picked up Alessia, she was unconscious now. They were no use in this fight, the poison had taken both of them out of the fight, HQ wasn’t far though, the least he could do was bring the sergeant back to get treatment.

Doodle number two off the requests, Zerriko! Alrighty, I will be redoing this buddy. I like the simplicity of the design and I think I can do better. So when I have time to do more than a doodle, expect to see some more Zerriko!

    Zerriko tracked his quarry through the alleyways, following the blood trail and the sound of footsteps. The man he was chasing had probably never encountered this much resistance before which could explain why he was fleeing despite his seemingly superhuman traits. It didn’t matter though, Zerriko knew these alleyways well, the other man was running into a dead end, he would have no choice other than to fight or surrender.

    Jack continued to run through the alleyways, his mind was racing with thoughts, who was the man chasing him, how could he keep up, how dare he use paralyzing agents like he did. In his thoughts he reached a dead end in the alley, when he turned around the man was standing there, blade drawn and his eyes flickering an ethereal blue. Jack had a trick of his own though, his body began to contort, his muscles expanding and claws extending from his hands, from his back, a pair of bat like wings sprouted. The man switched to his other sword, it had a faint glow to it in the moonlight, and drank a potion of some kind.

The two ran at each other Jack’s new form wasn’t as fast as the previous one, but it was much stronger, he made large sweeping blows one of them caught Zerriko in the chest and sent him back a few feet, he was winded for a second but the claws hadn’t pierced through the armor. Zerriko counter attacked with a flurry of strikes from his blade, most of which found their mark and Jack howled in pain as the moonsilver cut him, searing through his flesh like a hot knife through butter. Just as Zerriko suspected something demonic was being used to make him this way, though he still didn’t know what.

    Jack fought through the pain and slammed down both his fists where Zerriko was, Zerriko anticipated this and was able to counter with a slash to his arms, again Jack howled in agony but this time his rage dulled the pain. He grabbed Zerriko by the waist and slammed him into the ground, he could feel a few ribs snapping from the force, he then hunched over Zerriko and started raining blows to his head. Zerriko did his best to dodge them, but it was a difficult task, thankfully he had a back up plan.

    He planted his left foot into Jack’s chest and pushed the jade dagger Isolde had given him through the sole of his boot with his right leg into Jack’s lung. Jack coughed up blood, he was losing this fight, his opponent was too experienced for him, he needed a new tactic. He grabbed Zerriko’s leg and gave it a twist, breaking his leg in the process. Now it was Zerriko’s turn to scream out in pain, afterwards Jack used the opening to cave in Zerriko’s skull with his fist. The fight was over, Jack looked around for an exit, when he noticed the sewer grate he tore it open and jumped in. He just wanted to leave at this point, his pride was too wounded to care about anything else.

        Crashing waves against a shoreline, the moon in the sky glowing eerily, sounds of groaning and the smell of carrion can be sensed from the distance. Zerriko stands on a cliff’s edge looking down at shattered fragments of silver, He picks one up and somehow he now has an intricate blade in his hands, He takes in his surroundings, Innistrad, after the helvault was shattered, this is when he realized that what he was seeing was but a memory, he desperately tried to go as far back as he could. He tried to remember happier times but his mind felt like it was burning hotter than the red sun of Mirrodin. He kept trying, pushing through the pain until he reach a memory of himself and a woman, she was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. They lean in for a kiss, but before it happens the entire world seems to melt away to nothingness. And no matter how much he tried to push back, the scene was lost to him.

Time for another episode of my “A Quest for Vengeance” Series!

In today’s episode, @vorthosthewillis‘s Finn and @nantukohunk‘s Saria come together and bring some closure to parts of Saria’s past. Violent, righteous, and vengeful closure.

If yall want me to tag you in future episodes, let me know!

You can read the other episodes --> here <--

Gather `Round! It’s Story Telling Time!

This took waaay too long for me to write, I’ve never had writer’s block that bad before. Thanks to @actualborossoldier and @baldore-of-the-boros for their help with my research in this. Let me know what you guys think!

Zerriko calmly walked the streets of the warehouse district, contemplating his next job. The Boros had gotten a lead on some big illegal trade going down in the area and some guy named Maris asked him to go check it out. It was more boring than he would like, but Ravnica was a “civilized” plane, which basically meant people wanted to tax you on everything imaginable, and this job let him pay for his small flat. But that wasn’t important right now, he needed to focus if he was going to find where this trade was going down.

A few moments later he heard yelling coming from a warehouse a few yards away. His initial instinct told him to head towards it as fast as he could, but his experience told him to proceed cautiously so he could silently get a look at what he was up against. He chose the latter.

 As he crept closer to the warehouse, he started to feel the ground vibrate, whatever was in there was big, angry, and most likely beginning to break free. Then, even everything that could possibly go wrong, went wrong wrong. The massive beast burst through the wall of the warehouse, crushing several workers nearby and dragging what could only be assumed to be the group trying to sell it as well as who they were selling it to. Zerriko grabbed the alarm horn on his belt and blew as hard as he could to call some back up from the legion, then drew his sword and tried to direct the beast away from the busier sections of the district with blasts of fire to minimize the damage it caused. All while also trying to keep the beast from harming any civilians that still remained in the area.