In Harmony We Trust, Ryan Matthew Harker [rooftoppers .txt] 📗

king and his men. A couple of seconds later a familiar boom sounded and a canon blast rocked the dark army. Then the army began to respond to some kind of disturbance from the vicinity of the brilliant light and there came the distinct chatter of machine gun fire interspersed with the vvvwhumep of plasma weapons.
“It’s the other lords!” Mega’N cried as she cleaved through the helmeted head of a goblin sub-commander.
Then in an area next to the arriving lords another blinding light flashed and faded out to reveal another group of soldiers that immediately engaged in the fighting.
“And there are the mercenaries!” Zakeriah shouted back to his wife.
Spurring his horse to even greater excesses the king pushed towards the black tent. He was still a quarter of a mile away from it when a figure emerged and began to wave its arms frantically.
Zakeriah saw his black robed adversary dodging his way through the throng of battling soldiers, snarled and forgot all about the fighting around him. “Harmony!” he yelled as he plunged towards his foe completely heedless of all others.
“No Zakeriah!” Mega’N tried to caution her husband too late as the king galloped off.
Weaving such spells of savagery as were never before seen on AnEerth Harmony destroyed dozens of the opposition at a time and except for a narrowing of his eyes he seemed not to notice the giant war horse that came to ride him down.
“Harmony!” the king cried again, infuriated at the sorcerer’s seeming lack of concern over his imminent demise. Then as he was almost on top of the vile magician he gave a resounding scream of victory and brought his flaming sword about in a sweeping arc, his intent to separate Harmony’s head from his shoulders. Finally lifting his gaze to meet the blood crazed eyes of the king Harmony sneered and calmly raised one hand to intercept the scorching blade. At the last moment sanity returned to Zakeriah and with the barest hesitation as his sword collided with the sorcerer’s hand, he wondered how he had ever thought he would defeat Harmony so easily.

The brilliant light faded and lord Quazetkic found himself on the outskirts of an impossibly large army. Having seen it from afar he knew its size and had mentally prepared himself for the enormity of it but now that he was right next to it he found he was slightly overwhelmed.
“Yeearrgh!” Turinoc suddenly yelled which drug Quazetkic from his stupor.
Shaking the teleportation cobwebs from his head Quazetkic watched Turinoc rush toward Harmony’s horde with the rest of their men swarming past close on his heels. Machine guns began to chatter and the surprised soldiers of evil began sprouting holes and hitting the ground. Shouldering his own rifle Quazetkic picked off some targets of his own with hot plasma. Vvvwhumep! Vvvwhumep! The smells of scorched flesh reached his nostrils as the wind changed and caused him to grimace. Then Turinoc decapitate a goblin with his axe and Quazetkic grimaced again as gouts of blood gushed from the creature’s neck. Shaking his head again the dismayed lord managed to dislodge his humanity and a glint of cold steel lit in his eyes as he clenched his teeth and burnt a man’s flesh from his skull at point blank range.
“All right Quazetkic!” Turinoc shouted. “Way to give it to the dirty bastards!”
“Woo hoo!” Quazetkic whooped as he let the madness of war fall across his mind like a soft, black goose down comforter.
As he was surrounded by a mob of men and goblins Quazetkic threw down his rifle, pulled his sword and pistol and thoroughly battle crazed leapt into close quarters combat. Thumbing the safety on his pistol off the weapon began emitting a high pitched whine as its plasma cell charged and swinging his sword in a wide arc he flipped a semi-hidden switch which caused the blade to burst with the white hot heat of super charged particles just before it swept through the neck and one shoulder of a stray werewolf that suddenly burst through the circle of his other attackers.
At almost that very moment another surge of brilliant light signaled the arrival of Jeshux mercenaries.


Having reformed their ranks since the separation in Gontiluna and the scattering in the snowstorm the mercenaries had been traveling towards the capital and making steady progress at it when they encountered the teleporters sent by the king. After they had been given the scoop by the teleporters the mercenaries quickly prepared for battle and settled in to wait out the half hour.
It only took a split second before they found themselves part of a full scale war. Weapons shouldered the seasoned warriors quickly picked out targets and just as quickly began to pick them off. Raining a steady barrage of death upon their adversaries and maintaining precise battle formation the mercenaries marched steadily into the outer perimeter of Harmony’s army.
“It’s Jeshux mercenaries!” a cry sounded out of the chaos.
Spotting the man who shouted and turning almost to a man towards recognizable soldiers, the mercenary force of almost twenty thousand immortals changed course slightly so that they would intersect the fighting men and women of the four lords. The man who heralded their arrival fought his way over to the mercenaries. He was armed with a plasma pistol and an ion sword and was covered in blood, none of which appeared to be his own.
“Where is Jeshux?” he shouted.
“We don’t know,” the mercenary closest to him answered.
“Who is in charge then?” the man had a look of panic briefly touch his features.
“Lieutenant Tanner!” the mercenary pointed to another merc.
“Thank you!” the man shouted and fought his way over to the lieutenant.
Reaching the mercenaries side the man with the plasma pistol shouted, “Lieutenant Tanner?” The mercenary nodded in assent. “Lord Quazetkic,” the men told him. “Am I to understand that the Commander General is not with you?”
“That’s correct, sir!” Tanner acknowledged. “I was separated from him during a blizzard almost two weeks ago!”
“And the Chosen Ones?”
“Lost with the Commander General!” Tanner replied.
“Damnit!” Quazetkic fumed. “Get your men and come with me! We have to warn the King!”
“Yes, sir!” Tanner turned away and shouted to the other mercenaries. “Everyone to me!”
Following Quazetkic the mercenary soldiers merged with the lord’s warriors and fought their way deeper into Harmony’s army.
Spotting Turinoc where the huge lord wielded his blood spattered war axe with berserker fury Quazetkic battled his way over to him and yelled, “Turinoc!”
Spinning with a grace rarely found in even the most skilled of ballet dancers, let alone in a man of his size, Turinoc fixed Quazetkic with a crazed look and brought his axe around to strike. Recognition stopped his killing stroke at the last second though and the big man guffawed, “Quazetkic! Where’ve you been man? You’re missing all the fun!”
Ignoring the other man’s grim enthusiasm Quazetkic shouted, “We have a problem! We need to find the king! Jeshux and the Chosen Ones are not with the mercenaries!”
“Follow me!” Turinoc shouted with complete seriousness as he instantly assessed the situation. “The king was over this way!”
Following Turinoc to where he had last seen the king the combined might of the lords and mercenaries struggled valiantly through the violent masses of Harmony’s army towards a large, black silk tent.
“There he is!” Turinoc pointed at an armored warrior astride a charging war horse.
“And there is Harmony!” Quazetkic pointed out the black robed sorcerer where he blazed his opponents away with his foul magic.
The king also spotted the magician and the two lords watched in horror as he fervently spurred his horse toward Harmony. With his flaming sword swinging around him madly the king cut a path to the dark sorcerer. Men, goblins, and werewolves fell like puppets with their strings cut before the king’s wrath and suddenly there he was with his horse rearing over Harmony’s head. As the horse’s blood soaked hooves dropped to the ground so did the king’s sword drop towards Harmony’s head. At the last possible moment Harmony raised his hand to meet the enflamed blade of the king’s sword. Blade and hand collided with a thunderclap and a flash of white and orange light as bright as the sun. The horse died in an instant, its whinny cut short, and the king was flung backward off of his mount and through the air. The sound and light faded simultaneously and revealed Harmony standing unscathed with a wicked grin upon his face and a mad gleam in his eyes. Time stood still.


Bright and clear the day dawned over the army of the Dark Sorcerer. Candlelite and Absinthe’s transformation did not pull the same crowd as it had the night before but there were still quite a few spectators, although Harmony failed to put in an appearance. Apparently the magician had already seen everything he needed to see.
It was late morning before they were given anything to eat. The Archmagi brought their food personally but did not stay to chat. She could not meet either of their gazes and would not answer any of their questions.
The morning turned to afternoon as the two of them sat in their cage. Neither of them said much, only sat and counted each blast of the arcane energy canon. When they did talk it was only to remark upon the diminishing time between blasts.
From the confines of their cage the two captives had, what under normal circumstances would be considered, a picturesque view of the palace. They could see the many turrets and spires as they rose magnificently into the air behind the intimidating bulk of the city walls, trying vaingloriously to reach the sky with their impressive height. The majority of these grand towers were roofed. Dozens of multicolored pennants hung from flagpoles perched precariously upon the pinnacles of these roofs, flapping and fluttering in the breezes that somehow still penetrated the ever present shimmer that identified the presence of the dome created by the shields.
Time passed at a slow crawl and eventually the afternoon wore on until the sun was passed its zenith. The repetitious boom of the arcane energy canon became just another of the many sounds associated with their surroundings. Its rhythmic cadence served as a counterpoint to the less intense noises that emanated from throughout the rest of the camp.
Candlelite and Absinthe’s boredom was reaching the peak of its crescendo when they both realized that it had been over double the amount of time that had become normal between blasts. They began to discuss what this could mean when they both witnessed the dome around the city wink out of existence and the very distinct flash of teleportation light burst from the top of the tallest of the palaces towers, a giant open roofed one that had a short, broken-spaced wall all around it
No longer bored they had barely begun to discuss what this meant when the canon finally boomed. This time though the blast fell dramatically short of the palace and surrounding city. It hit just outside the shifting borders of the besieging army and left a smoking crater in the surface of the blasted plain.
“What the hell!” Candlelite ejaculated as he jumped to his feet and gripped the bars of the cage. Absinthe was by his side in an instant and together they watched the tendrils of smoke that rose from the impact site and wafted away on a gentle breeze.
Bedlam erupted, sending ripples throughout the encamped army like a rock dropped into a pond. Then another blast pierced the sky and cratered the plain.
Eyes wide with wonder Absinthe whispered, “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” Candlelite shook his head in disbelief.
Candlelite and Absinthe waited in