Subj: [ffml] Fw: [MW] A Fighting Chance... or is it? Date: 00-08-25 20:06:53 EDT From: chaos28@home.com (Chaos) Unless the Moogle War goes on for months, this will be my last post of MW3. WARNING: This story falls into the Moogle War's continuity the night BEFORE Tim and the Moogles' clash at Southvale begins. It is the followup to the one I wrote about 2 weeks ago called "A Fighting Chance" that Sky posted to the list. Thanks to Spacecat for checking it over for errors in continuity and spelling. He informed that for some wacked out reason Moogles can't fly. So I made some Moogle scouts that can. And also, the death of one of the characters later on has Moogles squeaking and jumping. These moogles are tiny things, and I know they can talk, but this scene is a direct rip-off from The Lost World. :D I love that series, so I thought I'd add a bit of spoof into this post. Anyway, they're little mutant Moogles. So there. Live with that kplzthx. Anyway, on with the story. It's long and with much gore. Hahe. Gore = good. The night air was cold, especially in Dirke's face as he and his squad road through the small forest path at fast speed, pushing their chocobos as much as possible. They had to. Better the chocobos hurt than Dirke and his team. The mission was imperative. About two hours ago, Captain Tim had informed Dirke and his unit that they would be key in Tim's strategy. Although their mission was imperative, if it did not work the war could still be won, although at a great number more of casualties. A half an hour after that, Dirke, the unit's leader, Norris the second-in command, Liana, the long-range assassin, Robert and Quenly, the weapon expert brothers, had left the Doma camp in the middle of the night without anyone else knowing, and set off towards Turan's camp on the other side of Southvale Bridge. Of course, they didn't go right across it. A half an hour after leaving camp, Dirke and co. found their first battle. A group of 3 Moogles and 2 Moogleboars, obviously very advanced scouts, because they were a rare flying breed of moogle, had caught the squad off guard, but thanks to their quick reflexes, Dirke and his team were able to avoid attack. The Moogleboars and one of the Moogles had been killed, but not the 2 other Moogles were furiously heading for camp. Dirke had to catch them, despite their innate ability to fly. Most moogles couldn't, but these must have been some sort of a scout. Just coming over the river the long way, Dirke's chocobo was in the leader, his 4 close friends trailing behind. The moogles were a good hundred yards ahead, and in thick forest, but Quenly had been quick with an alchemy potion to increase Dirke's and Norris' vision by enought on continue chase, and the rest of the group was just following. "Come on guys!" Dirke commanded to his unit. "They're getting away! Dammit!" Norris let his hands go from the chocobo and quickly pulted out his crossbow from his back, loading a bolt into it, looking ahead and back down quickly so as not to run into a tree or a team mate. He did it quickly, knowing that he couldn't balance himself going this fast for long. "Dammit!" Norris snapped, as a small trail of blood came out of his hand. "What happened," Rober yelled forward. "I cut my fucking hand," Norris called back. "I'm good though." He lifted his crossbow up into the air, and took aim. "Gotcha, sucker!" He pulled the trigger - just as his chocobo jumped over a large log in the road. "Damn!" Norris yelled. "I missed!" "They're breaking up," Dirke said, almost panicking. Ahead, the two frightened Moogle scouts were splitting in two different directions. "Norris, Robert, Quenly, go left, Liana and I will go right." Everyone agreed, and the group split off. Halfway down a small ridge, the Moogle entered the clearing. The moonlight luminated the valley, to the surprise of Norris, Robert and Quenly, and Quenly had made sufficient potions for him and Robert too. They'd been riding for about 15 minutes, not able to get a clear shot at the little bugger until now. They were catching up in the straightaway, and the moogle was too tired to fly for much longer. It was only a matter of time. "I hope we can find the others," Norris said. "And if we can't," Robert asked, half kiddingly. "Then we continue," Norris replied, aiming his crossbow. He shot an arrow off. It whizzed through the air, and hit the Moogle in the wing with dead on, accuracy. It mad a small squeal, before plummetting to the ground. Within seconds, Norris and his group caught up to it, lying unconscious in the dirt, with the arrow in it's wing. They starred at it for a moment. "It's small..." Robert said. "Doesn't look dangerous." Quenly bent down at it, and and examined it's claws. "Look at these," he said. "They could tear right through you, these suckers. I mean, the way the-" There was a thawng noise, and within seconds, a small thump behind Quenly. Quenly stood for a moment, staring, wide-eyed, as if he'd seen a ghost. Then, blood started to come from his mouth, and he fell forward, an arrow in his back. Arrows flew by Robert and Norris, from a high up point they couldn't see. "Eagh!" Robert yelled in pain, as an arrow hit him in the arm. "Come on!" Norris yelled, grabbing Robert and heading for the chocobos. "Qu... Quenly!!!" Robert said trying to get free. "We can't leave him!" "He's dead," Norris said, not even looking back, as arrows rang down around them. They turned to see their chocobos already dead, about 5 arrows in each of them. Stopping for a moment, but not saying anything, Norris quickly turned to the forest and made a run for it. The arrows stopped, momentarily, assumingly for the archers to reload. Norris and Robert blasted into the forest, full speed, and jumped behind a large tree. They sat down in the mud, breathing heavily. "I gotta go back," Robert said, getting up. Norris grabbed him. "No," Norris said sternly. "Quenly's dead. Dammit!" "Let me go," Robert snapped. "We can still save him! He's my only family!" "Sit down and be quiet," Norris said, even harsher. "We don't have the luxury of discussing this." "But, come on, we can do it!" Robert said, pulling from Norris' grip. Robert looked around the tree, and Norris grabbed him, turning him around. "No!" Norris snapped. "We can't!" Robert looked at him, with true fear in his eyes. "Get your hands off me! I have to save my brother!" He pushes Norris over. Slipping on a small patch of mud, Norris fell into the tree and to the ground. He jumped back up and tried to grab Robert, but it was too late. Robert ran around the side of the tree. "Damn!" Norris yelled. He looked out but couldn't see Robert anywhere. The vision potion that Quenly had made him must have worn off. What a convenient time. Norris pounded his fist into the tree, and heard the Moogle war cry, not far away. He looked around quickly, and made a run for it, crashing through the bush. Robert stepped into the clearing, and immediately saw Quenly's body. "Quenly," he moaned, tears beginning to roll. He ran to his brother, and flopped down in the mud. "Quenly, dammit, please!" He felt for a pulse. Nothing. Robert turned Quenly onto his back, and begin applying pressure to Quenly's chest, in an attempt to revive his lost brother through CPR. "Come on," Robert moaned. He pushed, and gave his brother breath, but his brother did not return it. His body lay there, cold and motionless. Then, a shadow appeared above Robert. Robert got up. "Norris, I-" When he turned, it was not Norris he saw. A bloody tusk from a ferocious Moogleboar plunged through Robert's stomach. Blood, guts and innards flew everywhere, as the giant creature lifted Robert's almost-lifeless body into the air like a rag doll, and flung it about, 20 yards across the entire valley. Robert got to one knee, and began to try and crawl away, one hand covering the wound, but it was a wasted effort. The Moogleboar charged him, and knocked him head first into the canyon wall with such force that it create a crack in Robert's skull. He began convulsing, but was still alive and the Moogleboar began to tear him apart, piece by piece, systematically, as if aiming for the parts that would hurt the most, but conserve life the longest. Robert let out one final agonizing scream into the valley, before joining his brother in the eternal beyond, his head removed from his body, eye still twitching when breath final left, and the brain died. The scream was heard about 200 yards away, where Norris was running, but was heard barely. He ran fast, the fastest he'd ever ran, dropping nonessential supplies as he was running, keeping only his crossbow and 10 bolts with him, crashing through the forest. Sticks, branches, twigs and all kinds of fauna scratched his arms, legs, body and face all up, with tiny holes of blood portruding out from bare skin or torn clothing. Infections were already starting when Norris realized some of the plants in this valley were the poisonous Flying Dragon Grass that only grows in a few places in the world. Norris didn't care. He kept forward. He knew he was being chased, but he didn't know by what, how many, or how far behind they were. He knew that they'd kill him if he got caught though. He looked back quickly, and saw nothing. And that's when it hit him. A tree. He flew into it at a mammoth speed, sending blood from his face all over. He stumbled around for a moment in a daze, before falling down a hill and landing face down in a ditch. That's when everything went black. Dirke stood over the moogle's body as it lie limp, without a head. The dagger in his hand was bloody, and there was a smile on his face. "Little fucker," Dirke said. It's arms and legs were also missing. Liana stood about 5 feet away, a sick look on her face, and a loaded crossbow in her hand. "You didn't have to mutilate the poor thing," she said, almost throwing up. "We're killers," Dirke said. "So are they. Survival of the fittest, and Moogles aren't fit to live in trash." "If you say so," Liana told him. "I've just never seen this side of you." "Get used to it," Dirke said. He holstered the bloody knife, and turned around, heading back to his chocobo. Liana mounted hers. "Get off," Dirke said, sternly all of a sudden. "Why?" Liana asked. Dirke simply looked at her, slightly agitated, and pointed towards a small light in the distance. "That's the Moogle encampment. We're close, so there will be probably be trouble soon." He issued the return command to his chocobo, and Liana mounted doing the same. "No place for a transport chocobo, eh?" Liana said. "No," Dirke replied. He began striding towards the encampment, entering a small clear. "Should we be walking right up to their front door?!" Liana asked, part struggling to keep up despite her speed. "I mean, they'll have scouts I'm sure." "Then we'll kill them too." "Dirke, I mean, Sir... we aren't invincible." "Speak for yourself," Dirke said chuckling. Liana grabbed his arm and halted. Dirke turned and looked at her grip, then her, questioningly. "We can't walk into this blinded," she snapped. "We'll be killed for sure. Besides, we should wait for the others." "We can do this ourselves," Dirke growled. "What the hell is wrong with you? Get it together!" "Nothing's wrong, now let me go." "No, not until you tell me what's happening. I've never ever seent his side of you. I know you hate moogles, but you aren't cold blooded, and you aren't careless." "War changes people," he said, forcing her hand away, and continuing on, looking around warily. Liana followed. "Stop," she pleaded. "I won't abandon you, but I certainly don't want to walk into there unarmed." "Quiet," Dirke said. "We're almost there." He stopped. "This will get us in." Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a small beaker. "I had Quenly mix it for us at camp. It's for 3 people, but we can have what's there. It creates kind of a blur effect around the drinker that lasts for 10 minutes. Enough to run through the outskirts and not get it. Once we make it into the camp, we should be fine. Turan's tent will be easy to see. He's too pompous to have a small one like the others." "Dammit," Liana said. "Give it here then." They both took drinks and left towards the Moogle encampment. They arrived about 15 minutes later, their potion wearing off soon before entering. They wore dark brown tuskomammoth furs found near the entrance to the encampment, taken from a Moogle merchant moving through the area, so as to try to avoid being seen as much as possible. To blend in. Tuskomammoth fur was very much an in-style with the Moogles recently. The camp was a frenzy of preparation, as if the Moogles were anticipating something. They were obviously preparing for a major battle. Dirke knew the war would soon end, and he was determined to start the fight and end it. The moogles would not win as long as he breathed. Dirke walked through the camp, almost without caution, as Liana moved through the shadows, her crossbow loaded under her hides. Liana was quite nervous. Dirke could blow this whole thing just because of his sudden change of persona. It was beginning to bother her. If he even saw Turan, he might go berserk and rush right at him. A lot of good that would do, especially in the middle of camp. He'd have 20 arrows in him before he even touched Turan. They needed to bide their time and wait for Turan to come out of his tent and begin surveying the tent. They needed an escape route. They needed a sniper position. This would not work hand to hand. The tent was about 300 yards now from where they were. They were closing fairly fast, but wouldn't be there for a little while yet. They had to do this carefully. Liana looked around. A few moogles were looking in Dirke's direction, but seeming not to give a second notice as he casually walked throguh, hiding his voice, and lowering down as if to look like a large hooded Moogle. Suddenly, a white, furry hand cupped Liana's mouth, and pulled her into the bush. Dirke heard a rustling sound and looked up towards her. She was not there. He looked about cautiously, but not frantically, so as not to draw attention to himself. He grunted, displeased, and continued forward. The camp was just ahead. Finally, vengeance... Norris awoke. He been out for a time, but he wasn't sure how long. He was covered in mud and dirt and almost didn't see his own body, he blended in to the ground so much. He was in pain all over, and sore. It was still dark though, which was a good sign. His crossbow had fired when he landed, and he saw the bolt sticking out of a nearby tree. It too was covered in mud, and the other bolts were strown about. His mouth was still dripping blood, and the disguisting taste of dirt joined it to make an unwanted combo for his tastebuds. He spat a few times, and tried to get up, holding on to a nearby tree to help him. He was covered in blood all over below the layer of mud, and hit a major headache. His nose was surely broken, and his chest hurt immensly. Probably a rib or two was broken as well, when he hit that tree. One of his ankles, if not both, was definately sprained. But he was alive. To his surprise, his pursuers had not found him. If there'd been a moogleboar with them, he'd surely have been spotted. He grabbed his stuff, and began limping towards the moogle camp. Surprisingly, his direction had not been turned around, and he could still see it. He hoped Dirke and Liana were nearby. He would not last in the enemy territory alone. He felt sick to his stomach as he spat up a bit more blood, and wiped some of the dried stuff off his face. Dirke arrived at Turan's tent, about 20 feet away, looking at it. 4 guards, very heavily armored, two of them Moogleboars. Great. Just what he needed. He looked at his crossbow and figured he could take the two moogles out before the boars found him. One shot form hear, move to the bushes, fire a shot from there. Then they'd be on to him. Damn. He was good at hand to hand, and the Moogleboars weren't agile or neccesarily strategic, although they had good instincts. He could take one out with his Man Eater Dagger. It could slice one of those open with it. If he got the jump on it that is. The other would find him though and ram him immediately. He wouldn't stand a chance. How was he gonna handle it. He looked through the camp for ideas. He saw a broad sword lieing by the bush. That might work, he thought. If I throw the broad sword to slow the farthest one down, and rip the first one up, then I can recover my bearings and get ready for the oncomming attack. Dirke knew he was more agile than the beast and could probably scramble up a tree. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two moogles taking Liana into Turan's tent. Oh great, Dirke thought. I'd better act fast. So the attack was decided. That's how he would draw them away. But first, he needed a distraction to get the others away from the tent. He pulled out the last beaker Quenly had made for him, and headed back the way he came. Norris stumbled into view of the camp, barely avoiding detection more than a few times. He leaned against a tree and looked inside. He saw Dirke move by his field of vision. He could tell it was Dirke by the way he moved and the size. At least, he hoped it was Dirke. Norris walked put a small yellow piece of paper on his arrow, and aimed it at the ground near Dirke. Dirke walked slowly towards a small Moogle watering hole, where he figured there'd be some alchohol. Excellent. Just what he needed. Norris' arrow landed near Dirke's foot, surprising Dirke enough to make him back duck behind a tent. When he saw the yellow paper, he grabbed the air quickly and looked around. He judged the direction and began walking towards the bush. Norris waited for him. "Where are Quenly and Robert?" asked Dirke. "Quenly's dead. Probably Robert too..." Norris looked down, sad. "Oh well. We gotta continue," Dirke said. "What? How can you be so cold?" "We have to do this." "And where's Liana?" "Captured." There was silence for a moment as they looked around. "I need you to do something for me," Dirke said. Norris looked at him and nodded. "What is it old friend?" Dirke handed him a small beaker with orange liquid. A fire bomb that Quenly had prepared. "Take good care of it. In exactly 10 minutes, attache it with this string to an arrow." He handed Norris a small black string. "Fire it directly at that group of moogles over there, and at the booth behind them." "Alchohol?" "Yeah." "A distraction." "Right. Then I can take care of Turan's guards and get Liana. She's in his tent." "And me?" Norris said, half scared. "... Run. For your life." Norris turned away a little. "I understand..." "Look," Dirke said. "There's a chocobo stable about 10 yards that way. Head for it, and get out quickly. They'll be scattered from the explosion, rushing to look for survivors." "Right." That put a bit of confidence in Norris. "I'm trust you," Dirke said. "Great. I won't let you down." They shook hands, and Dirke head back through the bush towards Turan's tents. The ten minutes went by like a bullet. Norris counted every second of it. He prepared the beaker, and fired. It wizzed through the air, hitting the small gathering of Moogles. They looked surprised, as the beaker broke up, and an explosion occured immediately, flinging bodies, wood, and a little bit of shrapnel from the broke glass through the air. Anyone around it would have been incinerated. Norris knew that. Even some of his hairs were singed. He didn't stop to look for a second and bolted like the wind through the bush towards the chocobo stables. No one saw or heard him. They were rushing to the explosion. And he saw it, right there. The explosion occured, and at that instant while the guards were down, Dirke took his first shot and ran towards the forest in the opposite direction of the makeshift tavern, reloading his crossbow, and jumping behind a wagon. The first guard got it right between the eyes. Dirke grabbed the broadsword, luckily still there, and fired again, hitting the other guard in the eye. Both were dead. Enraged, the Moogleboars immediately grabbed the scent and went after Dirke. He ran as fast as he could, and ducked behind the biggest tree he could see. Immediately, he moved back out into the narrow clearing. The moogleboars were close already. He hurled the broadsword and nailed the farthest one right in the side. It stopped for a moment and Dirke jumped into the tree, just as the close one rammed the spot he was standing in moments ago. Barely getting on the first branch, Dirke yelled out a ferocious battle cry and landed on the Moogleboar's back, jabbing his knife in and slicing it down the face. It's brains spilled out, and the creature let a below of pain and died immediately. The other surprised Dirke. It's tust skimmed Dirke's side out of nowhere drawing blood, and the two tusks closed him in at the tree. He couldn't go left or right. So he gathered his courage up and kicked the thing right in the face. It roared, and removed it's tusks from the trees, woodchips and bark falling to the ground. It swung them around at immense speed. Dirke was barely able to jump out of the way in time. He landed at the creatures left side, opposite of where his sword hit, and slashed at it with his dagger. It reered up, preparing to stomp down, but he rolled under it and jabbed his dagger upward. Again, the creature roared. Dirke rolled out the other end and grabbed the broadsword and sliced his dagger into the air, cutting through Moogleboar fur again, sending more blood, and following it up with another slash to the same wound. He didn't notice the boar's head turn around and strike him in the side. Dirke fell to the ground, losing the broad sword. The moogleboar rushed him and rammed it's tusks into the ground. Dirke rolled, his shoulder narrowly sliced by the sharp bet bulky weapons, and rushed forward. Being on the outer side of the Moogleboar's face, he reached his arm around the right tusk, and jabbed the dagger clear into the Moogleboar's eye, bringing it up, creating a massive gash. The creature squealed in rage, and brought it's tusks back, preparing for a final charge. Is it did, Dirke jumped and grabbed a branch of a tree above, swinging his legs to avoid the creature's attack. He droped, and landed on it's back, quickly turning himself so he was facing the front, and dug the dagger into it's skull with a powerful "Aaaaaaaagggghhhhh!!!!", ripping at the flesh. The moogleboar gave one final scream of pain, and fell to the ground. Dirke jumped off it's body, whiping a bit of blood of his face that had splattered. "Fucker," he said, walking towards the camp. Norris found the chocobo stall, and jumped in quickly. To his horror, almost every chocobo had a moogle on it, preparing water buckets for the fire. "Oh shit," Norris said, drawing his sword. But it was too late. The moogles saw him. Two ran behind him and blocked the door quickly. Norris drew his katana, and jabbed forward, impaling one of the creatures on it, right through the heart. The other took a swing at him with a short sword. Norris moved out of the way, but was not able to remove his katana in time. A moogle ran up behind him, and he kicked it hard with his boot, sending it backwards. 2 more replaced it though. One jumped on his back and drew out a dagger, jabbing him in the shoulder. Norris let out a cry of pain, and grabbed the thing with both hands, throwing it into the one in front of him. The other one behind him took a slash at his leg, hitting a blood vein. Dark red liquid splattered on the attacking moogle and the floor itself. He grabbed his katana, and swung it back, slicing the neck of the attacker, and dropping him on that spot, blood pouring out. As the two in front of Norris attempted to get their bearings, Norris made a run for it, and he went into the bush. Norris ran for a good 10 minutes before the pain in his leg became too much. He slipped and fell into a creek, the water running against him, washing some of the blood away. He hadn't noticed just how many gashes he had until now, as the infections began to merge. His vision became woozy, but he got up anyway, and continued walking towards camp. Looking around, he saw no Moogles. About 20 yards down, he noticed the sun was coming up. It must be about 4:30, he thought. What a long night. He heard a little squealing noise. He turned and saw a small, lone moogle, dagger in hand, fangs bared, jumping up and down on a log. Norris recognized it. One of the attackers from the stables. "Haha. You little jerk. All alone now?" Norris drew a spare dagger from his boot and approached it, swinging. The small creature jumped into the bushes with surprising speed. Norris turned around and laughed, and began walking again. About a minute later, he was surprised to hear the same moogle squeak, but many more of them this time. He turned. About 10 little moogles were jumping up and town in the rocky creek. "Haven't I seen this somewhere before?" Norris thought to himself. "Erm... Go away!" Norris picked up a handful of rocks, and threw it at them. They scattered into the bushes, and he continued walking. About 5 minutes later, he turned around to see more squeaking this time about 15 of them too. He suddenly tripped on a log he hadn't seen before, and they rush! All of them had fangs, claws, and some had little daggers. They began digging in to him. They felt like little bites jabbing him all over. One small one jumped on his head, and sliced into the back of Norris' skull. He grabbed the stuffed shit and threw it, kicking them all off, and getting up quickly. He was pancking. He threw his dagger at them, and began to run, but now was so tired and so hurt he could barely walk. He closed his eyes and let out a grunt of pain. When he opened them, the moogles were behind him again. They were smiling maliciously, jumping up and down, squealing. Norris ran, but it was all for naught. They rushed him. As he looked behind him, he crashed into a large turned over tree, and fell behind it, hitting his head on the rocks. Within seconds, there are at least 20 moogles on him. And with one final cry of pain, Norris' life slowly left him, as his attackers tortured him to death. Dirke had a feeling Norris was gone. As he approached Turan's tent, he also noticed no one had cleaned the moogle bodies up. But Turan and a large moogle were standing outside now. Turan's cape flapped in the wind, and his grim face surveyed the dead bodies. The larger moogle was holding Liana. She was nearly unconscious, and quite beaten. Dirke could barely stand to see her like that. He wanted to rush Turan head on, but even now he knew that he wouldn't make it. It'd be 2 on 1, and Dirke just wasn't that good. So this was his only chance. He left his crossbow behind, and had only his dagger now. He walked out of the bush, and towards Turan. Turan turned to him. "Hm? And who is this? Our attacker?" Turan smiled. "You want a piece of us?" Liana opened her eyes barely, mumbling something silently. "Let her go," Dirke said. "I will kill you here. You and me. One on one." Turan and the large moogle laughed. "Please," Turan said. "You want to die that much?" "YOU WILL DIE!" Dirke yelled, so loud he was sure he would have been heard. Turan looked at him, up and down. "You are quite confident." Dirke stopped a man's distance from Turan and stared right at him, eye to eye. "Fine," Turan said. The large moogle handed him his long masamune, and Turan gripped it with both hands. "You won't last a second." Dirke gathered his courage, and ran at Turan. Turan prepared for a swift counter, but almost instantaneously, Dirke jumped quickly to the right, and kicked the large moogle in the head, sending him back. He grabbed Liana by the arm, and threw her behind him, rolling out of the way of Turan's masamune swinging through the air. Dirke got to his feet, and faced off againt Turan. He looked over and saw Liana, lying on the ground, barely alive. "You asshole," he said. "I'm gonna rip your head off." Turan laughed, and swung his blade, so fast, and so hard, that Dirke was in no way prepared. It cut bone easily, and Dirke's hand, still holding his dagger, flew through the air, splattering against a nearby tent and falling to the ground with a trail of blood. Dirke dropped to his knees, grabbing his right wrist with his left hand, crying out in immense pain. He knew right then that his overconfidence had killed him. "You think you were gonna sneak up on me?" Turan said. "Ha ha ha." "You... knew..." Dirke said. "Of course I did, I am not stupid. I've known ever since you began chasing my scouts. You are a stupid person. And I take no pitty on stupid people." Without another word, Turan sliced the masamune through Dirke's neck. His head rolled across the ground, and his body fell. "Please," Turan said. "If this is all that pathetic army can muster, then this war will soon be over. They will be no match for us." The large moogle walked up to Turan. "What should I do with the girl?" "Her?" Turan asked. "Feed her to the Moogleboars." The large moogle nodded. Liana sighed, and tried to get up. She knew both her legs had been broken though. They'd beated her to near death, but not fully. She was so hurt she wasn't fully comprehending the situation, and timed seemed to fly by. When she was thrown into a pit, and rushed by the moogleboars, she hadn't even realized her body had been split up from her legs. Her peace came easy. And that was the end of Dirke and his group. The Moogles had fended off Tim's attempt at assassination. The final battle, however, was still to come. -------------------- CHAOS! Subj: [ffml] [MW] For love of Blood. Sweet Blood. Good with Chicken. Mmmm... Blood. Blood blood blood. Oatmeal. Date: 00-09-03 19:33:41 EDT From: darklord@compusmart.ab.ca (His Dark Lordship) Reply-to: ffml@egroups.com To: ffml@egroups.com (ffml) (Alright, this one takes place following [MW] A Fighting Chance.... or is it? Enjoy or rot for eternity in Heaven, or something. Aw fuck it. Read it.) Kefka watched the young girl torn to shreds by the boars. He chuckled at teh site of it. "Amateurs..." he muttered. "That poor girl." said a Moogle beside him. Kefka jumped. "Relax!" said the Moogle. Kefka suddenly noticed it wasn't a Moogle at all! It was GoGo. "Dammit! Quit doing that." grumbled Kefka. "Sorry, cat. I just needed to make sure I was up to par on my mimmickry." Kefka growled. GoGo sighed. "You realize that you're merely going to fuel this war to even more death..." he said finally, even knowing that was what Kefka intended to do. "Good." chuckled Kefka. "The deeper the rivers of blood, the great symphony that will sing me back in future times..." GoGo scowled. "Your enthusiam disgusts me..." "Then quit talking to me..." chuckled Kefka. Kefka gazed up at the Moon. It was time. "Well..." began Kefka, drawing the blades he had designed for this. "It was a pain in the ass working with you..." he said, slowly walking away. "In case I don't see you again, you always were just a waste of oxygen that didn't fit in anywhere." "That's alright..." chuckled GoGo. "You always were just a spoiled little child who felt he had to be insane to please his fellows..." Kefka scowled, then finally let out a bellowed laughter. Voices perked up around the camp. GoGo immediated began mimmicking the pole he was leaned on and thus disapeared. Kefka chuckled. This was it. As he strolled out to the main camp, he smiled in spite of his mistakes. He had the perfect situation in this war to regain his throne at the center of the world. But he had screwed up. He got caught up in the fabric of the war, and blew his chance. He would do better next time. However, now he had set things in motion that would allow him to regain his throne. He prepared a Reraise spell and cast it for a delay... 1200 years would be sufficient. Now, to get some royally pissed off Moogles. With his gutterous laughters bellowing once more, he charged towards several young Moogles carrying water. The blades singed, caking with blood and ripping out organs, leaving a crew of screaming young Moogles in his wake. Charging down from the hill he was upon, he slashed at several of the Moogle's camp whores, cutting their most valuable parts open and releasing more screams. Then, he felt a bite in his shoulder. Ahh, the forces had found him. Rushing towards another group of young female moogles, KEfka again did his sworddance of pain, leaving them clutching their wounds in utter agony. More bolts filled Kefka's body. He felt like a pin cushon. Then he saw him. Turan. With another nefarious laugh, he charged at Turan. He came across Turan's guard on the way. A dodge and a slash left one grasping his intestines. The other four however quickly impaled Kefka's laughing form on thier lances. "A... little present... from the king... *hurk* of Doma..." laughed Kefka as he spat blood. The only thing more erotic than the blood of others was the blood of his own. His member pulsated with his dying breaths. Turan snarled and kicked Kefka in the head as his form fell lifeless. He turned to his nearest guard. "Rally the troops. This act will not go unpunished..." A messenger ran up, almost as on que. "Sire, Cyan and the main Doman brigade have arrived at Tim's fort just north of the bridge. Our 'contact' has informed us that they will likely attack immediately, Avariel and all." Turan smirked. "Excellent. Ready our... special weapon. This should be interesting." Turan looked at Kefka's lifeless body, in death permanantly molded to a mocking grin. "Your efforts will be in vain, Cyan." he spat on Kefka's face. -- The eternal lord of darkness... "And if our dreams sometimes come true, then what of our nightmares?" -The undisputed Master of Final Fantasy 2 -GM of FF2c -Member in good standing of Sky's Posse ICQ UIN# 23424269 IRC Nicks: TheDarkLord, GannondorfDragmire, occasionally Blackthorne System: Amiga 4000/040 Cybervision64 & Opalvision ---INTEL/MICROSOFT FREE--- The Final Fantasy Mailing List: Now available in Cherry, Strawberry or Tofu