Blood of the Bard: Act I - In the City of Giants

 Chapter I

Bard walked about his house on the first morning of the first visit of his children where none of their mothers were present. He just wanted to see them and wish them a good morning, because he loved them.

            First was Amare, who was the only real adult in the house, including Bard. Xey were in the kitchen, making breakfast.

            “What are we having?” Bard asked, seeing that Amare had just put out a match xey used to start the stove’s flame.

            “Bacon, and some eggs,” said Amare. “We are going to have to go to market later and get more of both those things,” xey said without looking back at Bard.

            “I didn’t know you were going to be making this,” replied Bard.

            “I always do when we come here. Besides not all of us can live off jam and bread.”

            “I’m sorry,” Bard sighed. “Do you need any help?”

            “No thank you,” said Amare. Bard just nodded and walked out of the kitchen.

            Bard’s next stop was the living room where he found his second eldest son and dragon, curled up on the couch reading a massive tome written in an ancient language. Like most dragons, he was stuck in a humanoid form although he was still unmistakably a Fire Dragon. His scales were red like ruby, his wings had a massive ten-foot span, his tail could wrap around himself several times over, and he had dagger sharp talons and teeth. But despite this bestial appearance, no one ever feared or were intimidated by him, that was just how calm his deminer was.

            “Good morning father,” said Tilian, looking up from and closing his book. “Do we have anything planned for the day?”

            “Not toady no. Figured since we’re heading out on the trip tomorrow that you would all want to take today to rest.”

            “That’s true. Just wanted to ask,” said Tilian before he once again cracked open his book and began to read.

Bard had come to know that this was not being dismissive or anything of the sort, it was just the way Tilian was, reminding Bard a bit of how he acted when he was young. In fact, Tilian was probably the one out of all Bard’s children that liked him the best, always eager to hear Bard’s songs and tales, be them of adventures past, or his own.

Bard had trouble finding Smallblade for a while, but then he heard some smashing sounds coming from out front, and he knew his half-orc son was punching something.

Leaving his large antique house, he came into a field of pure green only broken up by a dirt path leading from the front door into the forest that surrounded the estate. Right at the edge of the pathway, Bard could see the tall pale-green figure slamming his arms up against a tall oak. Approaching his son, Bard had nothing to say but-

“Why?”

“I was walking, bumped my head on its branch, now it must pay!” growled Smallblade as he continued to chip away at the tree, the fourteen-year-old having already punched away what would have taken a lumberjack a good few axe swings to cut. Bard knew at times like this it was best to just leave him alone.

As Bard walked back into the house, he heard a familiar purr from up above. Stepping back and looking up, Bard saw his youngest child and second daughter perched on the front porch roof.

“Get down from there you could hurt yourself!” called Bard. Shabaka rolled her eyes.

“No, I won’t. I could climb before I could walk. Besides you’re not the boss of me,” said Shabaka twitching the pointy ears on top of her dark-haired head.

“If you don’t come down, I will get the hose,” Bard said in the serious ‘dad voice’ he had been working on. Shabaka looked down at him with a concerned look before jumping, doing a front flip, and landing on her feet in front of him.

“Sorry Papa, I didn’t realize it would worry you that much.”

“It’s alright,” sighed Bard. “I should probably trust your abilities more. Now could you do me a favor and bring Smallblade in for breakfast? He is in a bit of a bad mood and he tends to overestimate my durability.”

“Will do. But, please try to understand he does actually like you; he just has a hard time showing it,” said Shabaka before walking past her father to go and calm down her brother. With that, there was only one child left to see, and this was the difficult one and thus why Bard saved him for last.

Bard reentered his home and walked down the hallway, back into the kitchen, and up the stairs into a large half-circle-shaped room of doors that each led into one of eight bedrooms. He walked up to the fourth door from the left and knocked. He heard a deep disgruntled groaning. With one last breath, Bard cracked the door ajar.

“Hey Vito,” Bard said with a tremble in his voice. “How did you sleep?”

“I’m awake if that is what you are asking,” grumbled Vitoroy the half-dwarf.

“Oh sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I have been awake for the past hour or so. I just didn’t want to get up.”

“Well, get up then. Breakfast should be done soon,” Bard said with a purposeful pip. Vitoroy let out one last loud groan before rolling out of his short-legged bed, slinking out one stubby limb at a time. “See you there then.”

Breakfast was quick. Vitoroy, and Tilian asked if they could take their plates to eat in private, Smallblade, and Shabaka inhaled the food given to them. And Amare being an elf only needed to eat once a week, this was not that time. So, Amare just sat there at the head of the kitchen table with xyr eyes closed, meditating. The first day of these large family visits were always awkward for Bard and everyone. Some summers would turn into genuinely pleasant times of family bonding, but most of them had never lost that awkward feeling. Bard just wanted to be with his family, but the sentiment didn’t seem to be completely shared. He knew their mothers would not have let them come here on their own if not for the presence of Amare, let alone accompany Bard on his journey to the Nopas Desert.

Bard was sitting alone, drinking coffee, at his kitchen table one late spring morning. He missed his friends and family, but also enjoyed these rare parts of the year where he could be alone. However, this morning would not have that luxury as his solitude was interrupted by a knock at the door. He only took a moment’s hesitation before putting down his mug and walking up to answer his front door.

Standing there on his porch was a man in the all too familiar purple and yellow robes of an Imperial Messenger.

“For goodness’s sake!” exclaimed Bard. “What does Pal need now?”

“The Emperor Consort needs nothing from you right now. It is her majesty Empres Juno the First that requests you aid an archeological expedition in the Nopass desert,” the messenger said with his nose in the air and his voice at the front of his mouth.

“What do they need me for?” trying to figure out why his friend’s wife, the princess they had saved, would be willing to seek his aid after they parted on such bitter terms.

“Five days ago, ruins were discovered and upon these ruins were hieroglyphics that has led some to believe these ruins may be a lost city once belonging to the giants. As you the only Imperial human who can read their language, the financers, including the Court, need you to accompany those on the dig.”

“Slow down there buddy!” Bard barked. “Five days? How did everyone learn about this so quickly? And sorry but I am taking care of my kids this summer, so I will be busy.”

“News is traveling faster than ever, much like the progress of technology,” said the messenger. “And as for your family, do not threat. They have been taken into account and will be allowed to accompany you, all expenses paid, in addition to the rather generous sum you would be recieving for this.” A million thoughts went racing through Bard’s mind, including those of money, pride, and wanting to know just what secrets this city of a long dead race could hold. “I will take your silence as meaning you are at least considering this expedition. You know who to write.”

At first Bard had been hesitant with the idea of taking his children with him on the expedition. But they had personally written him back saying they wanted to come, that they wanted to see more of the world. Perhaps, they were filled with the same wander lust that Bard had forgotten.

 

Chapter II

            Shabka usually hated long rides like this one, but this time it did not bother her. All she cared about was the fact that she was about to go on her first real adventure and live like the heroes she admired. Then again, that did not make riding in a cramped train cart with five other people any more pleasant. They each had their own way of coping with this particularly uncomfortable ride. Amare stayed in a deep meditation nearly the entire duration of the ride; Tilian read; Vitoroy hated everything, so this was not much worse for him; Smallblade was truly miserable, wallowing and whining the whole time; but Bard… Bard was unfazed. Shabaka was never able to grasp the kind of man her father was, now she learned that he was the kind of man that could keep himself distracted by staring out a window off into the distance.

            When the train finally came to a stop at an old train station, all there was left to do for Shabaka and her family was find the person who would guide them through the desert. The station itself looked abandoned by the word abandoned. Shabaka imagined that the conductor did not even know this place existed until they learned they had to stop here. It should go without saying that the Bard family were the only ones there, the guide had not even arrived yet.

“This edge of the desert station where sand is hard and cracked was once a lake,” Bard said in the storyteller voice Shabaka had such fond memories of. “In this lake there was once an island, and that is where we are heading. Over the millennia dust and sand have collected in that heart of the desert, burying the city of giants beneath it.”

“Could you please just tell us how long it will take to get there?” Vito said cutting off his father, Shabaka hit him in the arm just hard enough for him to wince.  

“Well… I don’t know. Depends on what animal the guide brings with him,” said Bard rubbing the back of his head nervously. “If it is camels like I suspect, probably another few ho-”

Almost as if on cue, that was when the guide arrived. Not on some animal, not slowly from over the horizon, but instead the man zoomed right up beside the train station on a giant ornate flying carpet.

“Or he could just be using magical bullshit,” sighed Bard with a scowl. Shabaka was jumping in joy, she had never seen magic on such a large scale before and was excited to get to ride on such a thing like a magic carpet.

“So, you’re the translator!” cheered the man in tan colored rags as he took off a pair of thick goggles. Looking at him closer, Shabaka could not quite shake the feeling that his skin was glowing, but it was hard to tell in the bright sun.

“Yes,” sighed Bard. Shabaka never understood her father’s distaste for magic. She had heard conflicting stories, some about bad experiences with wizards, others said it was just a general over exposure to the stuff.

            “My name is Jin… and these must be the kiddies I was told about. I see they inherited their father’s good looks. Especially that cute little one,” Jin said looking to Vitoroy.

            “I’m seven-fucking-teen, asshole!” shouted Vitoroy having to be physically restrained by Smallblade.

            “Forgive my dwarf son, and apologize yourself,” spat back Bard. Bard always carried that kind of confidence with him. The kind that allowed him to have his cake and eat it too.

            “Sorry about that, I am used to dwarves having beards,” said Jin rolling his eyes ever so slightly. Shabaka could tell that Bard was having to restrain himself in the same way Smalls was restraining Vito. She knew that this mutual fake kindness was only to make sure no one got left stranded at the edge of the desert, and Shabaka accepted this. But that did not make her want to hurt the guide any less.

            “After we get back from the dig,” Shabaka thought.

            It was not long until the Bard family had all calmed down enough to load up their luggage on the flying carpet and climb aboard. The thing about magic carpets is that no living thing could get on or off without willing intent. Objects on the other hand were obviously not living so they had to be held onto. Being forced to hold onto the bags that contained her clothes, food ,and personal possessions, all at once was only one of the miserable things about the trip through the desert for Shabaka. There was also the intense heat, the sand flying into her face, the intense heat, her hair becoming itchy from catching the sand, and the intense heat, developing sunburns, and perhaps just maybe possibly the intense heat. All of this made Shabaka doubt her dream of becoming an adventurer… that was until she saw the tent.

            It was a massive thing of a structure, the tent. Shabaka estimated it had to be at least a mile wide, and three hundred feet tall. The cloth it was made of was jet black, and the poles that propped it up were thick as a mighty ancient tree. Shabaka knew that only magic could construct something like this, and if this expedition had enough funding to afford a massive magical item, then it must be worth the cost.

            “Wait, where is the dig?” asked Smallblade with his jaw gaped open.

            “Under the tent my green friend,” said Jin through his teeth as he made a gesture with his hands that made the carpet move just a bit faster. Next thing Shabaka knew, the carpet had rammed its way through the opening slit of the tent.

            Inside, it was like a night sky, candles hanged from above by nearly invisible strings, which along with the frequently placed torches, and basin fires, illuminated the dig stie in a bronze light. The sand looked and felt cool, the place looked as comfortable as it could possibly be for the hard labor that had to be done. Shabaka could not see to the other end of the tent without straining her eyes. And at that other side, a massive ruined city half buried in the sand within a crater, and at the center was a pillar that reached all the way to the top of the tent. All the while the ant like eianth workers were running about and digging.

As the carpet came to a stop Shabaka could not help but bring her gaze back to the city. By Shabaka’s count she could only see four structures. The pillar, and what looked like three roofs around it. Shabaka was sure that there must be more left for the eianth to unearth.

 

Chapter III

            Vitoroy had not been looking forward to this trip, preferring home above anything else in the world. But the summers were the only time he got to see his father, and every year Vitoroy thought he could finally figure out what he wanted out of life by spending time away from home. Every year, that did not turn out to be true, even Vitoroy was not sure why he kept going. Perhaps he just wanted to make his mother happy, let her know that her son was not a total shut in, but it did not make Vitoroy dread the trip any less. It was not the heat of the desert heat that worried him, all dwarves even half-breeds had internal temperature regulation. It was just having to be away from his mountain, or even his father’s house, away from any semblance of home that made Vitoroy uncomfortable.  

            But now, Vitoroy was there at the dig, marveling at the massive tent that surrounded him, a shade shield from sunlight made of Dragon Silk. The pitch-black fabric not only kept things cool within but was also immune to fire. This immunity is what allowed fire to be used for light instead of having to cut holes in the tent and letting the hot desert air in. the downside to this was that it was extremely difficult to tell what time it was. They had only been there for a single sleep and Vitoroy was already unsure if it was night or day.

            Vitoroy awoke the ‘morning’ after arrival to find that his father had already left to do whatever his job was, Vitoroy was not quite sure. Vitoroy remembered it having to do with translating the ancient giant language. In the meantime, Vitoroy had agreed to walk around with his brothers and sister, to explore the camp, and meet some of the people.

            The camp was littered with ten-person tents all around. Most of them were a dull tan color but three of them stood out. The yellow ‘Language Consultant’s’ tent which Vitoroy and his family were staying in, the red ‘Director’s’ tent, and the blue ‘President’s’ tent. Bard had said they should go and meet the other officials, but to Vitoroy and his siblings, the eianth workers were by far the more interesting and important. Finding one of them was not exactly hard either, there were hundreds scuttling about. All Vitoroy had to do was tap one of the ant women on the shoulder to get their attention.

            The woman turned to face the siblings and Vitoroy was shocked to see how human they looked up close. Most of their body still looked like that of an ant except standing on their hind legs, but the face was just that of a human woman. Ignoring the antenna and helmet like continuation of exoskeleton in place of hair.

            “Excuse me,” said Amare. “Could we ask you a few questions?”

            “Sure,” sighed the eianth exasperatedly. “I got work to do so make it quick.”

            “Excuse my kin,” said Shabaka pushing both Amare and Vitoroy out of the way. “But I think we should introduce ourselves first. We are the children of the translator, Bard. And you are?”

The eianth woman responded with a literally inhuman sound that no one without the appropriate eianth vocal organs could hope to imitate. “But you can just call me Ra-Ka,” she said with a smile.

            “W… well Ra-Ka, what is it you do here?” asked Shabaka, tripping over her words.  

“Dig. Same as I would do normally,” said Ra-Ka. “Granted this is not directly expanding my home but if this can get us some money to by nature preserves that you humans can’t expand on, that would be.”

“But none of us are full human.” asked Smalls, seeming oblivious to how none of them were exactly human passing to begin with.  

“All the same to me,” said Ra-Ka, shrugging.

“One more question,” said Vitoroy. “It is actually about the architecture of your home tunnel systems.”

“Oh okay,” chuckled Ra-ka smiling with her eyes wide. “Go for it.”

Vitoroy then proceeded to ramble on, asking minute questions about the eianth tunnels that ran all under the continent of Olden. The answers to which typically amounted to either the eianth’s ability to sense strong stable areas of earth, or their other ability to excrete a sticky resin from anywhere on their body. This all bored Vitoroy’s siblings immensely but he thought that they had dragged him around to places he hated enough times that they could bear with him for this.

“Well thank you for all that, it was very fascinating,” said Vitoroy with a smile. A sigh of relief fell over the other four.

“No problem,” said Ra-Ka. “Say, could you actually do me a favor?”

“We would be glad to help you in any way!” cheered Shabaka.

“You are on you, way to meet the director, right?”

“How did you know?” asked Tilian swith a raised eyebrow.

“Guess really, but it was a safe one seeing how you are the translator’s kids,” said Ra-Ka. “I want you to ask him about those titanic, locked boxes we had to haul around earlier. The carpet guy just brought them in and told us to bring them to the president’s tent without saying why. Just hoping to get some more info is all.”

“What do you mean by big, locked boxes?” asked Amare.

“Well, they were sort of like black coffins with gold lining. And boy were they heavy, took nearly the entire crew just to carry one, and there NINE!”

“We’ll check it out for you then,” said Vitoroy.

Not two minutes later they had arrived at the cloth door of the red tent. Vitoroy poked his head through to make sure they would not be interrupting anything. What Vitoroy found was a room scattered with crumpled up pieces of paper and clothes. In the middle of it all, a white feathered birdman, passed out seemingly from exhaustion. His breathing was quick and heavy, Vitoroy felt the need to head on in and make sure he was alright.

“Mr. Buskdor?” asked Vitoroy, stepping through the tent door, followed by the others. The avareed jolted awake and jumped up in a daze, a few feathers flying off him and one getting stuck on the right nostril of his beak.

“So, so, so, so sorry!” Buskador the birdman cried. “I was working all night and must have collapsed.”

“What was so important?” asked Smallblade.

“Well… um, I, uh…” stammered Buskdor twirling the tips of his feathered wing arms together. “I am not sure if I can talk to you about that. I am kind of in a deep pit with the President for going over his head and asking the Imperial Court for a new translator.”

“That’s our dad!” exclaimed Shabaka.

“Eh… you all look enough alike,” said Buskdor with a shrug. Once again, Vitoroy was confused how anyone could mistake Smalls and Tilian for human.

“Wait. New translator? What happened to the old one?” asked Vitoroy.

“Well, um…” Buskador returned to his stammer. “In for a penny,” he sighed in a whisper. “This dig has been going on for quite a while actually. For years people have suspected there might be ruins of a giant stronghold here. And a few months ago, an archeologist named Tuna Maleek found the hieroglyphics that your father is working on, that brought a whole lot more attention to this project and got it extra funding, what you see now. Later, she finished deciphering the ruins, but before she could publish her findings, she turned up dead.”

“What did the hieroglyphics say?” asked Tilian. “Surely you as the director of the dig should know.”

“I wasn’t the director then though. They fired the old guy. I am not in charge here; I just manage things. It is the financers who make the decisions,” said Buskdor rushing through his words.

“And this President, would he be the financier?” asked Vitoroy.

“Yes him, minus the grant he got from the Imperial Court,” said Buskdor.

Smallbalde slammed his fists together. “Let’s go get some answers out of that pig then!” Smallblade exclaimed rushing out of the tent before anyone could react.

“Did Smalls just rush into the lair of who is probably the bad guy?” Vitoroy asked as the rest of his more heroic siblings rushed into the lair of who was probably the bad guy.

“Could you go find my dad for me? If the financers really are behind this murder, I am sure he has already sniffed this stuff out and is just being a bit more discreet. I need to go herd some cats,” said Vitoroy as he pushed aside the cloth tent door and looked out into the open dig. When Buskdor gave a nod, Vitoroy ran off to the blue tent.

Within that place, Vitoroy found his siblings confronting an old man who was sitting behind a desk. He had muttonchop sideburns, pale grey eyes, and was somehow both fat and withered. Standing on either side of him were two massive men in pitch black armor. Soldiers of the Bludcrav Mercenary Company, the most feared and well-trained private army in the world. Upon the man’s desk, was a nameplate that read ‘President Autca.’

“Just come clean old man!” shouted Smalls. “We know you are up to something, and it proboly has something to do with those big black things.” The guards looked at each other.

“He means those boxes we were told about from the eianth,” said Tilian quickly at first and then slowing down, pointing an accusatory finger at Autca.

“Deer oh deer, oh my,” said Autca with his index fingers against his lips and his head tilted down. “Corporate spies come to steal my archaeological findings. Guards, take them away.”

The guards in black sprinted forward, Amare held out his arms to cast a spell, but it was too late. Before Vitoroy or his siblings could do anything, the BMC Soldiers had knocked them out. As the darkness took hold of Vitoroy, his only hope was his father, the Fury of Sound and Flame.

 

Chapter IV

            Smallblade awoke in darkness, only illuminated by the dimmest orange light coming from the cracks above. It was cramped, and he could feel warm bodies around him. His eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and he was able to understand his surroundings. The bodies around him were his knocked-out siblings, piled haphazardly on top of each other, he could not quite tell who-was-who aside from Tilian, but he thought it might be Shabaka’s leg on top of his own. It was not so much a room they were in, as much as it was a large sand pit at least eight feet deep with a flat wooden roof covering the top.

            “Guys, guys!” shouted Smallblade. The silhouettes laid around him made startled motions before quickly rising to their feet. Smallblade still was not quite able to tell everyone apart.

            “Where are we?” asked Vito.

            “No idea,” said Smallblade. “But I would be willing to bet it has something to do with those guys that knocked us out,” suddenly Smallblade had an idea, he was not sure it was a good one, but it was an idea. “Tilian, would you happened to have suddenly developed your fire breath while we were knocked out?” Even through the darkness Smallblade could see the bad looks he was getting.

            “Wait Amare!” exclaimed Tilian. “Why don’t you summon some pillars to knock that board or whatever it is off the top of this thing?”

            “That might just work,” responded Amare. Smallblade was now able to identify the left most figure as his eldest sibling from the hand and arm motions xey were doing. Hands against hips with palms facing the ground, and then quickly raising them up into the air. Two thin pillars of tightly packed sand shot up towards the roof and… did nothing but shatter back into grains.

            “So, was that because the board is tough, or because your magic is shitty?” groaned Vito.

            “Let’s just move on,” sighed Amare. “We got to figure out how to get out of here. We don’t know if or when Father is going to save u-”

            Almost as if on cue, that was when the roof came crashing down, and light came flooding in, almost putting a spotlight on Bard who stood in the middle of the wrecked wood.

            “Or he could just save us out of nowhere,” said Amare, wide eyed.

            “Hey kids, let’s go,” said Bard so quickly Smallblade could barely understand what he was saying.

            “Whoa slow down!” cried Shabaka. “What’s going on?”

            “This place, it was never a city, it’s an ancient giant armory. Just when I had finished figuring out the runes, Buskdor came and told me what had happened, so I came to save you.”

            “What about Autca?” Smallbade asked, wanting to attack the source directly.

            “He is after whatever the giants kept here. If I was reading the runes correctly, it said something about experimental armor. I knew the giants were technologically advanced, but this is a whole new level,” Bard said, stone-faced. “Now Smallblade, I cleared the path for you, would you kindly throw us out of this pit?” Smallblade could not contain his glee when his father gave him permission to throw people around.

            Within the span of four seconds, Smallbalde had grabbed the legs all five present members of his family and thrown them out the top of the pit.

            “We are going to go find a rope!” called Shabaka peering down that pit at Smallblade gave her a smile and a thumbs up. He was just glad they were alright; he had a habit of sometimes throwing people too hard.

            Before long, a rope had been thrown down to Smallblade and he was able to climb up to the surface and join everyone. But the very second Smallblade had reached the top…

            BOOM! A massive sound roared through the entire dig site, followed by a brief but violent earthquake. Screams of eianth could be heard as they scattered away from the main dig crater. Smallblade and everyone could not help but look in the direction of the sound.

            “I ran out of time!” cried out Bard.

            There, right by the massive crater that was the dig, spewed out from the ground a geyser of sand, and from it came a gigantic figure. It was obscured by the cloud of sand at first, but as the dust settled, what it was became more and more clear.

            The figure was at least thirty feet tall, it moved stiffly and unnaturally, it was pure metal like a knight in armor, said looked old but not rusted, and its face looked like that of an angry demon. It was something only before described in outlandish sci-fi books. It was a massive automaton, a giant robot.

 

Chapter V

            Tilian analyzed the structure of the giant robot, it seemed to be rather crudely put together, but he could not quite figure out how.

            Suddenly, two men in black armor rushed from the other side of the dig to in front of Bard. They were the BMC soldiers from before, the ones that Tilian and his siblings could not hope to survive against in a real fight.

            “Looks like we got a prison break,” said the BMC Soldier on the right.

            “And it seems to have been orchestrated by that Language Consultant the boss just fired,” said the one on the left. He looked directly at Bard. “Oh, you didn’t hear? Yeah, our employer does not want the secret of his new weapon getting out, so he is having us kill you, just like the last translator.” The two soldiers began to unsheathe their swords. Within that split second, Bard had pulled out his flute and Tilian, along with his siblings, instinctively covered their ears.

            Bard blew into his flute and want came out was a sound so loud it created its own gale of wind that curved in a focused current towards the soldiers. If not for its magical properties of the already uncomfortably loud sound, the ears of everyone in the dig would have turned into fountains of blood. Instead, the destruction was controlled and directed at the two soldiers who were sent flying through the roof of the dig’s massive dragon silk tent. Now only one very large opponent remained.

            Bard charged forward to confront the giant metal beast. Tilian and the others followed behind, Tilian tried to keep a safer distance.

            “Autca! Show yourself!” shouted Bard, looking up at the demonic face of the giant robot. The robot moved its arms up to its head and pulled it off. Tilian realized that it was not a head at all, but instead a helmet, and it was what was underneath this helmet that allowed Tilian to finally piece together how the whole thing functioned.

            As the helmet lifted, it revealed a Autca sitting in a char upon the golden pole. Tilian recognized this gold metal as Psimenium. A metal that resonated with the magical energy used by psychics, so much so that even someone with a low amount of psychic attunement could command a structure as large as this, moving the pieces with but a simple thought. But what confused Tilian was that a structure as advanced as this should not be possible. The most complex device possible with Psimenium were giant cranes. The metal could only be commanded to move one direction, and most psychics could only move one piece at a time. So, for something like an approximation of a human body to be made, there must be some other piece of technology allowing the pieces of Psimenium to work together all at once.

            “Could it be the armor? But how!?” Before Tilian could continue the thought, the metal giant attacked, stomping on the ground where Bard stood until he jumped out of the way.

            “Like it?” called Autca from his perch. “I think my master will quite enjoy having this beauty as a part of his army.”

            “Master? Who?” Bard exclaimed.

            “Like I would kiss and tell,” Autca said flicking his hand.

            “Fine then, no need to continue this,” Bard said pulling out his flute. Tilian was sure this was bound to be a record of some sort; the quickest amount of time a hero took to save the world. After Brad had checked this his children had covered their ears, he blew into his flute and a hurricane of sound rushed towards Autca. The giant hands slammed the helmet back on, and as the sound attack hit, it did nothing.

            “What!?” cried Bard, taking a step back. Autca laughed, his voice coming from some sort of speaker in the helmet.

            “This is the strength of Giant’s Steel! No human magic can break it! This, is, the Capital Robot!”

            “No magic huh!?” yelled Smallblade, before he let out a war cry and started to charge at the Capital Robot. It swooped down its hand and grabbed Smallblade, who started to bang on the figures of the hand, to no avail.

            “He’s not bright, is he?” asked Autca.

            “Hey back off!” shouted Bard. “Only I can call my kids stupid.” All the while, Smallblade was still banging on the thumb and fingers of the giant armor. Tilian’s keen ears allowed him to hear subtleties of the sound even from this far distance away. It sounded hollow but not quite, as if within the armor’s fingers there was but a bit of empty space with something in the middle.

            “The Psimenium is controlling the armor!” Tilian had an eureka moment, finally understanding what this ancient ‘experimental armor’ was. He was not sure of the exact mechanics, as this technology was ages beyond any he had read about, but he understood that somehow the Psimenium was interfacing with the armor to make the armor itself move. Perhaps the movements could be stored before being executed, or the armor had the ability to predict what the user wanted to do, or maybe even the armor was made of Psimenium to some degree. Regardless, the Psimenium inside was still limited to its simple movements, but the armor was acting on its commands, allowing for the sequencing of sophisticated movements. More than anything this meant that all they had to do to stop Autca and his Capital Robot, was incapacitate the armor. Tilian looked around, at the sand, at the eianth, and finally at his brother Vitoroy, he had a plan.

            “Father, I need you to distract him for a while,” Tilian said to Bard.

“Uh… okay,” said Bard with a raised eyebrow. He rushed towards the Capital Robot and pressed a button on his flute that magically turned it into a rapier. He tilted his head down and whistled, allowing him to jump up onto the shoulder of the Capital Robot.

“Shabaka, Amare, just try to stay out of the way and be safe,” said Tilain to his other two siblings. They looked confused at first but then just nodded. Tilian then ran over to Vitoroy and revealed his plan.

*

            While the plan was underway, Tilian watched the battle between Bard and the Capital Robot unfold. His father mainly relied on magic in combat, so this fight was not as easy for him as they usually were. But that only meant he could not use his magics that attacked his opponent physically, mental attacks were still possible as long as Autca could hear them.

            “What do sprinters eat before a race? Nothing they fast,” mocked Bard viciously as he banged on the helmet of the Capital Robot. Autca let out a loud, pained, groan. “I don’t dislike commas, but they do give me pause.”

At this point Aucta commanded his metal avatar to let go of Smallbalde as to use both hands in the attempt to swat off the annoying fly that was Bard. Smallbalde was fine, falling twenty odd feet, face first into sand was not that harsh of an impact for hard skinned orcs. All the while, Bard was toying with Autca, successfully dodging every swipe of the Capital Robot’s hands.

“You cannot even begin to hurt my armor! Your struggle is futile!” Autca screamed, distorted through the speaker. “I am invincib-”

CRASH! A cloud of dust filled the tent as a hard and sudden shockwave could be felt throughout. When the sand had settled, the Capital Robot was buried to its waist in sand. The right arm buried up to the elbow, the left arm and the helmet had fallen off leaving Autca completely exposed with Bard holding his flute sword against the capitalist’s neck.

Tilian strutted over to where he could take a good long look at Autca has he explained his plan.

“You see, my brother, is quite good at befriending eianth. So, I took a gamble that most of them probably would not like having helped dig up a doomsday weapon,” Tilian said as Vitoroy slowly walked up from behind, covered in dust.

“And he was right. So, since these people you so kindly brought here have the ability to quickly dig tunnels in the ground and figure out weak spots of earth, they were able to collapse the ground under you,” said Vitoroy.

Ra-Ka popped up from the sand.

“Can’t exactly use the land you give us if you just plan on taking it over anyway. We have had that happen to us before,” Ra-Ka said with a brutal stare, a stare shared by all the other eianth Tilian could see.

“Imsorryimsorry,” cried Autca. “I am not trying to take over the world. My master is.”

“Who. Is. He?” growled Bard pressing his blade ever harder against Autca’s throat.

“I don’t know his name. He just promised me a lot of money if I helped him, the fraction he gave me was more than enough to fund this entire dig. I was just looking out for my bottom line,” whimpered Autca.

“Who is he!?” roared Bard.

“I told you I don’t know his name, we all just call him the A-” Before Autca could finish, his head had turned into a puddle of blood, brains, and bone.

Where the head of Autca once was, there was now a bloody fist. A fist that belonged to a familiar man, Jin the carpet guide.

“Sorry,” said Jin. “That’s secret.”

 

Chapter VI

            Amare was unfortunate enough to have seen someone killed in front of xem before, but this time was far more brutal, this time was murder. Xey could not see the face of the killer, although they recognized him as Jin the carpet guide from the previous day. Bard had a shocked look on his face sprinkled with blood.

            “I believe some introductions might be needed,” said the killer, wiping off his bloody fist on his clothes. “I am a professional killer, and my client has hired me to watch over some of his various operations, making sure no one reveals his identity,” he said in a way far too calm for someone who had just brutally murdered a man. “It’s a shame about Autca here. He had quite a bit of money himself even before my client hired him. He could have easily employed me to take out annoying pests like you. But orders are orders.”

            Jin swung a right hook at Bard. Bard ducked and weaved. Bard let out a small whistle that knocked Jin off the neck of the armor. Bard jumped from the rim of the armor’s neck and made a piercing motion with his rapier. Jin dodged. The rapier was embedded into the ground. Jin tried to rabbit punch the back of Bard’s head, but Bard was quick enough to perform a leg sweep and knock Jin onto his back. Jin vanished in a puff of smoke. He reappeared in the air above Bard, and swung down with his elbow onto Bard’s head, hammering him into the ground.

            “When I heard you were coming, I did some research on you and your history, fighting style, everything. I wouldn’t say you are no match for me, but boy are you not prepared,” snarled Jin.

            Bard kicked himself out of the ground, spraying sand in Jin’s eyes. Bard extended his arm and delivered a reverse lariat to Jin’s neck. Jin fell to the ground. Before he made impact, he pointed his fingers and jabbed Bard between his ribs, stunning him. While Jin was on his back, Bard was hunched over in pain.

            Jin locked eyes with Amare, before xey or Bard could react in anyway, Jin vanished in a puff of smoke, and then reappeared behind Amare, gripping xem tightly around the neck. Amare was only getting the minimum amount of air xey needed to breathe. Shabaka tried to tackle Jin, but she was swiped away with seemingly no effort. Bard stood facing Jin twenty feet away, in front of the spot where is rapier was upright in the ground.

            “No one move or the half-breed gets it!” barked Jin manically. He pointed at Bard. “Hands on the ground, I will leave and that will be it. You and your inhuman children can go about your lives.”

            “What?” growled Bard.

            “Yeah, I read all about your messed up kids too. An elf with a half-life, a virgin succubus, a dwarf who can’t grow a beard, a dragon who can’t breathe fire, the world’s smallest orc, and a cat boy who thinks he’s a girl. Honestly, I would be doing a favor killing every last stinking one of you. But let me go, and no one else must die,” rambled Jin. Bard was still just standing there, but Amare could tell something was different. A switch had flipped in him, and now it was someone else.

            Amare had never really been able to connect with xyr father, partially because the idea of parents were foreign to an elf. They were aware of who their biological parents were, who was the egg and who was the seed, but they were no more important in a child’s life than the other adults in a community. Amare had never sought out Bard for xemself but for xyr siblings. At first it had been a selfish curiosity, but as xey met xyr younger siblings and the women Bard had loved xey decided all needed to be brought together. Since then, Bard had been ever protective and present for his children, even Amare. Amare felt guilty because he was unable to reciprocate that feeling of devotion.

            “Let, them go!” screamed Bard to the heavens, as mountains of fire erupted from his body. Jin’s arms fell limp, as he let out a whimper of fear.

            From Bard’s flames came a hand which reach forth and grabbed Jin around the torso, pulling him face to face against Bard.

            “Fight me all you want, try to kill me if you must, but the second you even think about hurting my children, I will obliterate you!” roared the thing that was Bard. This was Bard’s ultimate power, the Fire Essence trapped within his heart, the thing that gave him the nickname the Fury of Sound and Flame.

            “You think I wasn’t prepared for this either?” laughed Jin. “You fell right into my trap!” Jin once again vanished in a puff of smoke, reappearing behind Bard, and unsheathing a knife. Jin lunged forward.

            Bard didn’t turn around, as much as he turned into a spiral of flame, which rematerialized as Bard, facing Jin and grabbing him by the temple.

            “WUKONG CROWN!” roared Bard in a godly voice as a blast of flame engulfed Jin. Bard tightened his grip around Jin’s cracking skull, incinerating every last bit of him to ash. Jin had not even time to scream in agony.  

            When the foe was killed, Bard’s flames subsided, the job was done, the hero had saved the day, and Amare was afraid of him.

 

Chapter VII

            Bard had won the fight, but he hated that he used it and did not even need it, that power, the Fire Element Essence. But Bard did not regret his decision to use it, he just could not bear to let anyone that even tried to hurt his children live, regardless of if they would have been more useful left alive for questioning. That was all in the past though, now Bard had to do what was right and make sure everyone got home safely. First, he had to check on his children and thankfully, they had gathered behind him, all of them except Amare.

            “Everyone alright? No one got hurt?” Bard asked. His five youngest replied with unsteady nods with blank faces. “Amare, how about you?” Xey were on hands and knees, still seemingly stunned by the display of fire Bard had just put on.

            Bard went over to his eldest child and hugged xem.

            “I’m so sorry if I scared you. Daddy’s here, daddy’s here,” This was not the first time Bard had hugged Amare in a moment of stress, not even the first time he had said those exact words to them. But this was the first time Amare hugged back.

*

            Bard helped Buskdor get everyone back to the train station, from the eianth workers to avareed cooks. More importantly, he drafted a letter to the royal court and gotten a few eianth to stay behind and guard the remains of the Capital Robot.

            “Shame, I finally get my big break as a nobody archeologist, and this happens. I guess I can’t expect to sell any of the artifacts found?” asked Buskdor as Bard handed him the letter addressed to the Empress.

            “No, but I don’t think there should be anything stopping you from going back after they gather up all the robot bits. Besides I am sure you will get your promised pay. Just please, stick with the Royal Court as your investor for this sort of thing. You can’t risk any giant technology falling into the wrong hands,” said Bard blank faced.

            “Are you sure the Empire is the right hands?” Buskdor asked inflecting his voice in such a way that made Bard doubt his beliefs for a split second.

            “Historically, no. But as long as my friend Paladin is the Emperor Consort, I will trust them,” Bard said with genuine reverence for his friend, the greatest, purist, most paragon of a hero above all.

            “Don’t,” said Buskdor with a scowl. He then boarded the first train out, leaving only Bard and his children as the last people waiting at the train station.

            Bard looked at his children, how they were still rubbing the bruised parts of their body. No one, including Bard could have guessed what dangers were waiting when they all decided to come on this trip. They each had that same adventurous spirt that trapped Bard in this high stakes life when he was young, so danger would follow them. Bard knew he didn’t have a choice, if this had even a chance of being their lives from then on, it was time to teach Amare, Vitoroy, Tilian, Smallblade, and Shabaka how to fight.