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Legends of Iconoclast 2: Unfinished Business

Read this file before starting the game.

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Even as the citizens of the town slept, there were those who stood awake to face the darkness of the night. Under a full moon, the city guards patrolled the streets, keeping their eyes out for suspicious activity. The gates had closed for the night, yet the guards marching up and down the fortified walls surrounding the city kept an ever-vigilant eye out for those seeking shelter from the dangers of the darkness or prowling intruders hoping to scale the walls. The flickering flames from the torches provided sufficient lighting for the guards to view their surroundings and safely walk across the walls. On moonless nights, this provided extra precautions.

All was quiet except for a slight breeze rustling the early spring leaves on nearby trees and the distant howls of wolves and coyotes. On a night like this, most people would not dare leave their homes as thieves and an occasional murderer prowled the streets under the cloak of darkness, their crimes unnoticed except for the moon, stars, and any watchful guards. Parents would also tell their children stories of even greater dangers and horrors lurking outside the gates in the surrounding forests and countryside.

Guards and watchmen were responsible for protecting the city and its castle. A large majority of the guards at this hour were stationed inside the castle. Others were at their position within the ramparts surrounding the city or standing guard at their post throughout the city to protect certain homes or businesses. Watchmen patrolled the streets during the hours from evening till dawn.

A lone watchman patrolled his route beginning at the city gates, taking him through the streets of the city, and finally returning to the gates. He is dressed in a gray tunic with and a blue cloak and a black hat. In one hand he carried a lit lantern. A crossbow and quiver of bolts is strung across his back. A silver bugle hung from his belt ready to blow in case of fire, criminal activity, or other danger to alert the citizens and his comrades in law enforcement, especially when force was needed because he was not much of a fighter.

He had been patrolling the streets since evening. By now he had lost count of how many times he had patrolled the city. Although he was dedicated to his duty, exhaustion is beginning to take its toll on him and he is unable to hold back a yawn. With winter approaching the days were getting cooler and the nights longer. Dawn would not come for at least six more hours.

He climbs the steps leading up onto the ramparts surrounding the city and enters the lookout tower directly above the portcullis leading outside. You will have to get someone else to take over for me, he said to a guard. I am too tired to go on.

The guard nods. Then catch up on your sleep Albrecht. I will find a replacement immediately.

Albrecht could do nothing more than yawn again. Even though he knew he could stay awake at least one more hour, he also knew that a watchman sleeping on duty would not find himself in favor of the king and queen nor the rest of the city should something happen.

There was another guard patrolling the rampart wall just outside the open arch-like doorway. When he reached the lookout tower he turned and began marching in the opposite direction. But even despite his fatigue Albrecht saw something fly through the air and hit the stone just behind the feet of the guard. The sound of soft fizzling filled the silent air. The sound of the impact was similar to a wooden stick falling onto stone from a tree. Though soft and barely audible it was enough to alert the guard to its presence. Albrecht watched as he stopped in his tracks and turned around to see what had landed behind him. He bent down and picked up something that resembled a bundle of seven red cylinders. A flame danced at the tip of a thin thread-like rope that split into each of the seven cylinders. 
What is this? he asked Albrecht.

I dont like the looks of whatever that is, Albrecht said fearfully. He had never seen anything like it before in his whole life. Throw it away quickly!
The guard looked at the strange red stick in his hand and brought it closer to his face for a better look.

At that moment the flame split into seven and traveled simultaneously down toward the red sticks within the bundle. A quick two seconds later a thunderous boom  shattered the quiet night air as the stick exploded in his face, engulfing him in a fiery cloud that completely illuminated his surroundings for several yards in a reddish orange glow. 

Oh gods! Albrecht cried in horror as the guard collapsed backward. The fiery cloud faded away into another of dust of debris. Even if he had fallen asleep the sound surely would have woken him up. He could only guess as to how much of the city had been awakened by now at the noise. 

He rushed to his fallen comrades side but when he got closer he drew back in terror. Oh my god! he screamed at the gruesome spectacle before him. The guards face had become severely disfigured as every bone in his skull had shattered through the skin. The hand clutching the red stick moments ago had been blown off completely. Black scorch and burn marks covered the front of his clothing and his steel breastplate had been melted and fused to the lifeless flesh.

The sounds of rapidly approaching footsteps grew louder behind him.

What has happened here? the guard behind him said in a fearful and urgent tone of voice. Whats going on?

Suddenly, more red sticks fell from the sky and flew over the stone ramparts to the streets below.

Sound the alarm! the guard cried as loud as he needed to be heard over the exploding red sticks. Were under attack!

As the songs of impending danger blew from horns across the ramparts, Albrecht felt the floor beneath his feet slightly rumble as the biggest explosion yet attacked his eardrums. It seemed to come from directly below him.

Theyve destroyed the gate! came a shout from below. Theyre coming in! Prepare to defend the city with your lives!

At that moment, a loud unfamiliar boom split the night air. Albrecht peered over the ramparts to see a guard standing near the shattered gate fall clutching his chest. A pool of blood began to spread underneath his body Whatever weapon his attacker had used it was powerful enough to puncture through his breastplate as if it was cheese. A figure clad in a red hooded robe emerged below. In his hand he held a strange weapon that looked like two metal cylinders with a wooden handle. Albrecht had never seen anything like it in his entire life.

For the glory of the Scourge! the man shouted. Destroy all resistance! Show no mercy!

Albrecht hurried back into the safety of lookout tower. As he reached behind himself for his crossbow, unfamiliar booms, bangs, and crackling sounds rang throughout the air together with the screams and cries from his fellow guards. He peered over the wall and saw mysterious figures holding unknown weapons spouting fiery clouds in their hands. Whatever the way these strange weapons worked, once they went off there was no time to get out of the way for anyone caught within their line of fire. Some were firing nonstop rapidly and others had a delay between the blasts. Some of the weapons sprayed some kind of magical energy similar lightnings electrical nature.

These unknown soldiers wore no breastplate, chain mail, or amour of any kind. All they wore instead were hooded robes in five different colors. Most of them wore brown or black, some in blue and green, and only a few were red. Albrecht noticed that each color wielding different weapons as if the color of their robe determined their rank within the army. He searched for the red robed soldier who had given the order to attack, but it was practically impossible to determine which one he was. Holding his crossbow with both hands he took careful aim at an invader. But with so many of his own comrades in the fray he didnt want to risk shooting down one of his own.

The green-robed soldiers were looting shops for food and other supplies, leaving behind more red sticks inside to destroy the buildings once they were done. One family of citizens that tried to evacuate were shot down immediately; the husband, wife, and even the children. Albrecht himself was disgusted and appalled at the cruelty and ruthlessness of this unknown army.

Although the guards were trained fighters in close-ranged combat and skilled marksmen with bows and crossbows, even they were no match for the power of these unknown invaders. One of the guards held up his shield as a brown robed soldier standing only a few feet in front of him lifted his weapon. Albrecht watched in astonishment as the blast punctured through the shield as if it were a knife slicing through butter.

Albrecht cursed himself. Down below the guards were fighting for their lives to defend their city. Yet like a coward here he was out of harms path playing the role of the innocent bystander. But even he knew that it would be foolhardy to fight these invaders, he was only a watchman, not a soldier. He had no training in swordsmanship, only with a crossbow.

The robed invaders marched further into the city toward the distant castle to meet with the next line of defense, leaving the pavement littered with blood, corpses of guards, and the ruins of shops and a few homes. Dozens of guards had died in the initial attack, yet none of the invaders had fallen. One black robed soldier had stayed behind searching the bodies of the deceased guards for anything of value. Albrecht felt disgust and fury build within him at the strangers lack of honor.

Hey! he yelled down to him. Whatever happened to honor among thieves? Have a little respect for the dead you vulture!

The soldier lifted his head up and raised his weapon, but Albrecht was ready with his own. Just as he released the bolt, a star shaped cloud of fire erupted from his opponents weapon. At that very moment, Albrecht felt several meaty slaps in his shoulder followed by a fierce burning sensation. Fortunately, his own aim was true and he watched with triumphant satisfaction while clutching his shoulder as the would-be thief collapsed with the bolt imbedded in his chest; his robe had put up no resistance.

How ironic, Albrecht thought to himself, their power is great but their defense leaves much to be desired.

His hand felt slightly damp. Removing it from his shoulder he saw a fresh red stain upon his palm.

Blood. His own blood.

Underneath the cloth of his uniform, Albrecht saw a red stain slowly growing in size as fresh blood flowed from his wounded shoulder
. 
He ran back into the tower and tore off a piece of the blue Naphorphia banner, and wrapped it tightly around the wound to halt the flow of blood.

Albrecht knew that even if he did join his comrades up ahead, the battle was already lost. Somehow he had to escape and spread the word. He would have to play the role of the messenger. But first, he had to get his horse.
#
Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, he ran further into the city toward the town square where he lived. He had torn a piece from the robe of the soldier he had killed and used it to cover the wound and control the bleeding.

Some of the mysterious invaders were gathered in front of the statue standing at the heart of the city. The statue stood eight feet tall upon a round stone pedestal and had the appearance of a man dressed in a trench coat with a hat. In his hands, he carried strange weapons almost similar to those wielding by the invaders. From what Albrecht knew, this statue was erected only last month to forever honor the heroism of an outsider named Logan who had single-handedly saved this land from a powerful curse that imprisoned the land and its people for ten long centuries.

Hiding in a dark alley, Albrecht watched as several of the green robed soldiers were setting up several more of the red sticks at the base of the statue.
Those fiends! his heart raced with fury. They are going to destroy the statue of our savior!

A blue robed soldier lit another red stick and held it in his hand for several long moments. Whether he was hesitating with reluctance or waiting for the right moment, Albrecht didnt know.

Finally, he drew back his arm and tossed it. A mere moment afterward, the stick exploded together with those at the base of the statue, blowing the monument of the lands hero into pieces that rained down onto the street in all directions.
Rage built up inside Albrecht and his blood began to boil. Never in all his life had he encountered such atrocious behavior in his career. Even the common sneak thief and assassins were merely insects compared to this human plague that had attacked their peaceful city for some unknown reason. Only his common sense and the fact that he was outnumbered, outmatched, and wounded kept him from leaping out of the alley to attack.

A lone red robe chuckled. Albrecht recognized him as the soldier who ordered the attack. Despite having his crossbow hung over his back, Albrecht knew better than to attack, lest he risk giving away his position and finding himself the target of the vindictive wrath of the invaders. Killing their commander would only get him killed.

Commander Revelin, said the blue robed soldier who threw the red stick at the statue. What exactly are we looking for anyway?

We are here to take back what was taken from us lieutenant Janus, Revelin said. There was a time comrades when we were the most powerful army in the history of all creation. We had it all: power, glory, the means to conquer all realms and dimensions of the universe. He scowled and added bitterly, until Logan stole it all away from us! Imagine, one man single-handedly defeating the greatest army in history, sullying our pride, and killing our founder, trapping us in this realm. No matter! If we cant conquer all creation, well settle for this world which was once our own, long conquered by our founder, the great Garibaldi himself!
Albrecht felt as if his heart was in his throat. Garibaldi? he said to himself. The same man who so long ago cursed this land? A chill ran down his spine and his soul flooded with dread. These are his followers!

I understand, Revelin continued, that Garibaldi was in possession of five mystical swords of great power, four of which contained the powers of the elements themselves.

And the fifth? asked Janus.

The fifth was the Sword of Darkness, said Revelin. It was with that blade which Garibaldi held this land under his power and ended all human life in this world. With the powers of these swords, we will once again reclaim the glory and power we once possessed. We will become unstoppable, but even that is not enough! Only once we spill the blood of Logan shall the Scourge restore its pride as the most powerful army in history!

As the soldiers marched further into the city towards the castle, Albrecht stood silent, trying to make sense of everything he had just heard. So our enemy has a name: the Scourge. Were they truly after the elemental swords and the Sword of Darkness? Was that the reason why they attacked this city? I must flee the city and play the role of the messenger!
					#
Taking with him the corpse of the soldier he had killed, Albrecht galloped off into the night. The closest kingdom to his own was Iconoclast and the trip would only take a couple hours on horseback. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder he desperately fought of fatigue, all while struggling to focus on the task ahead and cursing himself for his cowardice in fleeing the city as the remaining defenses prepared to fight to the last. Maybe I wasnt cut out to be a watchman. But for now, I must deliver the news to my cousin Minerva! She will need to know what has happened to the land of her birth!

As last his horse galloped outside the forest leading to the city of Iconoclast. Two guards stood atop the ramparts surrounding the city and spied him immediately.
Halt! Who goes there? one of them called out.

Albrecht pulled on the reins of the horse and slowed down. I am Albrecht of Naphorphia, cousin to Queen Minerva. I bring news of terrible tidings from our homeland that she must know about!

Raise the gate! one of the guards shouted to another. The gates opened and Albrecht rode on through. 

Inside the city he once more pulled the reins to halt his horse. By now he was so exhausted he could not sit straight. Finally surrendering to fatigue he fell sideways, but was luckily caught by a statuesque guard at least three inches taller than him. Like the others he had seen patrolling the ramparts this one is clad in tempered steel trimmed with gold and bronze from the helmet all the way down to the greaves and gauntlets. This is obviously a female guard due to the double molds on the front of her armor to fit her breasts. He looks up into her face to see that she is an attractive young woman around his age. Twin blonde segmented bangs from central parted hair frame her heart-shaped face. Eyes of steel gray fell upon his wound. Even in his drowsiness, he saw that the banner piece had been loosened during the ride; he hadnt tied it tightly enough.
You are wounded! she said in a concerned tone. What has happened?

By now, Albrecht no longer had the energy to speak. He slowly felt his eyes close. The last thing he hears before losing consciousness is the guard shouting, Get this man to a healer immediately!
					#
When Albrecht awoke as the sun began to rise, the pain in his shoulder had begun to subside. The healers had done their duty, first using leeches to suck the blood from his wound. Poultices and salves were applied to prevent infection and help in healing. Finally, a tightly wrapped cloth covering was applied. 

A cart carried him and the soldier he had killed down the streets of the city towards the distant castle. Crowds of people gathered down the sides of the street whispering fearfully. The rumors of what had happened the previous night in Naphorphia spread like fire. Since no details had been revealed, people had their own guesses as to what happened. Some assumed that the armies sent by a power-mad king had attacked. Others believed powerful monsters in the countryside were responsible.

The guards ahead opened the gates leading out of the city towards the stables outside the castle gate. One of his two escorts was another guard dressed in steel armor with a green peacock feather. The other was the female guard who caught him when he fell off his horse the previous night. He was led through the castle gates and into the castle itself, his escort carrying the invaders corpse.

Inside the throne room sat the king of queen of the castle of Iconoclast. King Edward and Queen Minerva were both young rulers, no older than twenty. Although their coronation had been only a couple of months ago, the land prospered under their rulership. Perhaps it was simply because Garibaldis curse had been undone, but still, they were wise and just rulers, strengthened by their experience while enduring the curse.

Albrecht! Minerva cried out in happiness at the sight of her cousin entering the throne room. She arose from her throne and ran down the carpet cutting the throne room in half towards him. She held open her arms and embraced him. Its so good to see you again. What with my parents gone, you are the only family I have left.
Albrecht winced as her arms were thrown around him. While the pain in his shoulder had subsided, he still felt discomfort whenever that area was touched. Still, he returned his cousins embrace.

I havent seen you since we got married, said Minerva.

Be careful with him majesty, said the female guard. His wound hasnt even fully healed yet.

Wound? Minerva released her cousin with a puzzled look. A gasp escaped her mouth as her gaze fell upon his shoulder. Albrecht, youre hurt! What happened to you?
Albrecht lowered his head in shame. Its a long story Minerva. Thats the purpose of my visit. As much as I enjoy the company of family, I came to bring news of terrible tidings that have happened in our homeland.

Edward joined his wifes side. What has happened in Naphorphia?

Albrecht looked the king in the eyes. I fear that what happened may spread to your homeland of Tamirtania king Edward. And all the rest of this world, including Iconoclast.

So what happened? asked Minerva, concern flooding her voice.

Last night, Naphorphia was attacked by an army of robed figures wielding strange weapons. Apparently, they are the followers of Garibaldi.

The same man who imprisoned the people of this land in stone for a thousand years? asked Edward.

Im afraid so, said Albrecht. They slaughtered many of the Naphorphia guards and even destroyed the statue of Logan in the town square. I was wounded in the attack but managed to kill one of them.

The corpse of the Scourge soldier was placed upon the floor. Albrecht saw Edwards eyes widen and mouth open in recognition. The king stepped towards the body and bent over with his hands on his knees. I recognize those clothes anywhere, he said. When I was imprisoned in Garibaldis dungeon after Logan released me from the curse he cast over me with the Sword of Earth, I managed to kill one of them and escape wearing his robe as a disguise.

The death of one soldier does nothing to weaken an army, said Leoric.
We were heavily outmatched, said Albrecht. Their weapons could even penetrate the defenses of armor and shield.

It certainly makes up for their own poor defense, said the female guard. Just look at this robe! Even a dagger could cut through it!

What were they after? asked Edward standing straight up again. What did they want from Naphorphia?

Last night, said Albrecht, I overheard their leader  a man named Revelin  speak of taking back what was taken from them: this land and the four elemental swords including the Sword of Darkness.

So I assume that they have claimed Naphorphias Sword of Water, said Edward. We can only hope that the other swords will be better protected.

My fathers sword, Minerva said, tears welling up in her eyes as she fell back upon her throne.

The swordsman Cecil must be turning in his grave if he knew what they intend to do with it, said Albrecht.

And after what Garibaldi did to Minerva with it, said Edward. The muscles in his face around his mouth tightened as if clenching his teeth. Obviously, it still angered him to think of it even though it was a thousand years ago.

I cant believe this is happening! Minerva wiped away her tears. After a thousand years under Garibaldis magic, we were finally freed! And weve only had about two months of peace!

Edward leaned over his wife and consoled her with an embrace. My love, weve endured much worse during Garibaldis reign. We must be strong and take strength from those who need us in this time!

Minerva looked her husband in the eyes, then closed them and buried her face upon his shoulder. Motherfather she wept, give me strength.

My comrades were prepared to fight to the death to defend the city. I on the other hand fled like a coward, Albrecht said shamefully.

There was nothing more you could have done, said Minerva coming back to his side after Edward freed her. She put a hand upon his unwounded shoulder. You did what you had to do.

Save your pity for someone who deserves it your highness, the guard with the green peacock feather on his helmet folded his arms over his chest, his voice filled with contempt. In response, Albrecht lowered his gaze to the floor.

I am captain Leoric, said Minerva.

Albrecht raised his head, his mouth open in surprise at the queens compassion. Normally, people who lacked courage were scorned by society, but through her words, his cousin revealed the compassion of her heart. Other than Edward, youre the only family Ive got. And I dont want to lose that!

It matters not! said Leoric. His glare upon Albrecht drove arrows into his soul. Your comrades were willing to fight to the death to protect their kingdom and its people, while you abandoned them. His eyes narrow into slits. What would your uncle think? The greatest hero Naphorphia ever knew? The man who gave his life to protect his daughter who is now our queen? His disgust grew with every sentence. Your cowardice and every moment you live from now on is an insult to his legacy! How will you ever be able to show your face there after what you did?

Enough Leoric! said Minerva angrily. Someone had to act as a messenger!

Father! said the female guard abruptly. If not for Albrecht, we would not know what has happened! We must use the information he brought with him to spread warnings throughout the land. And let us not forget that he did manage to kill one of them, something his comrades could not accomplish!

Do not waste your time defending his tarnished honor Penelope, said Leoric. He deserves nothing short of condemnation for his desertion! Those who died defending their kingdom will be honored while his name will be blackened forever! His very life is a blight upon the family honor!

Albrecht once more lowered his head in shame. Still, at the same time, he was grateful to Penelope for her compassion.

But father, she started, but Leoric refused to listen and let her finish.

Penelope go back out on your patrol route, Leoric said shaking his head while giving Albrecht a contemptuous glance. While you are at it I suggest you pay a visit to the healer. Maybe she can put a poultice on that bleeding heart of yours before you drown in your own blood.
					#
Messengers were sent to spread the word of the attack on Naphorphia. By mid-afternoon, the entire land of Iconoclast knew. The five kingdoms were united in fear, concern, and anger.

Then a messenger from Dunkilus arrived with the news that Dunkilus had just been attacked by the Scourge. The Sword of Sky was now in their hands. Tensions throughout the lands that had been raised by the news from Naphorphia heightened at the news in Dunkilus.

Edward and Minerva sat upon their thrones where a large crowd of people had gathered together. The king and queen could sense the fear and worry in their people. They could even see children clung to their parents.

 The doors to the throne room opened and all heads turned in unison to see who was coming in. A bearded man, clad in a silver robe with a green collar with matching sleeves came in, escorted by captain Leoric.

Majesty, he saluted, Murlock has arrived.

Thank you Leoric, said Minerva. Please step forward.

The crowd pulled itself apart in two as the two men approached the thrones. The knight stood off to the sides and allowed Murlock to stand before the thrones to address the crowd. People knew he was the wisest man in the land. Surely, he could counsel everyone and help the young king and queen ease their peoples fears. At his side was a young man dressed in a leather tunic with pants and boots to match.
Murlock bowed before the rulers. By now, youve heard the news of what has happened in Dunkilus, the land where I made my home, he said.

We have, said Edward. What is your report on the destruction?

Not as much as it was in Naphorphia, said Murlock. Parts of the city lie in ruin and dozens of people lost their lives. The king and queen willingly surrendered the Sword of Sky to prevent further death and destruction.

This is outrageous! roared Leoric, Surrendering a powerful weapon into the hands of the enemy! Thats defeatism!

Do not judge the king and queen harshly Leoric, said Murlock. They only gave in to the demands of the Scourge to save their people and their country. Lives are at stake here and the people depend upon their leaders to guide them through these dark times. The decisions we make can mean the difference between life and death or between victory and defeat. And I highly doubt that anyone would be able to live with themselves if they were responsible for a single death.

Leoric crossed his arms over his chest. Oh very well. But a soldier never surrenders unless he is unable to fight any longer! And I will fight to the end to defend my homeland!

Bravery and foolishness are two completely different things Leoric, said Murlock. It wouldnt do for an entire army soldiers to throw away their lives in a battle they have no chance of winning. A wise warrior knows when to fight and when to run.

My cousin Albrecht has proven that, said Minerva. 

Survival is much more important than pride, said Edward.

I still think Albrecht was a coward, Leoric grumbled. Minerva winced at his words attacking her cousins honor. It was true that Leoric was a brave man, a good soldier, and one of the finest warriors in all of the land, but sometimes he could be a bit too proud for his own good who didnt tolerate mistakes from his followers.

Albrecht felt a nudge at his side. He turned to see Penelope standing at his side. It doesnt matter what my father thinks, she whispered. Deep down, I think you are a man of great courage. And the fact that you actually killed one of them deems you worthy of my respect!

Albrecht smiled at her. Thank you, he whispered back. Somehow, I will have to atone for my failure to defend Naphorphia. But I will deal with that troll when I cross that bridge.

Majesty, Murlock gestured the young man at his side, may I introduce Claudio. I met him in Dunkilus though he claims to have escaped during the siege on Naphorphia.

Strange, said Albrecht as Claudio bowed before the king and queen, Ive lived in Naphorphia my whole life and Ive never known anyone named Claudio.

Claudio here says he eavesdropped on a conversation between the Scourge commander and his troops in Dunkilus, said Murlock. I believe he could be a vital resource as a scout and spy for our kingdom.

Very well, said Minerva nodding. Any information we can learn about the Scourge will be of great value to aid us in this battle.

So far, Naphorphia and Dunkilus have fallen to the onslaught, said Edward. And the swords of Water and Sky are in their hands. That just leaves the swords of Fire of Arcanius and Earth of my homeland Tamirtania.

And the sword of Darkness, said Murlock. But they will never find it. The seas beyond our harbor will make certain of that, taking it to the bottom of the ocean floor or its currents carrying it to one of the distant uninhabited islands.

Let us pray they do not recover it, said Minerva. It was the power contained within that blade that imprisoned us for many years.

Who knows what the Scourge plan to do with the elemental swords? asked Edward. It was the power of the sword of Earth with which Garibaldi imprisoned me in the form of a tree all those years and Minerva as a crystal statue with the sword of Water.

It will mean more death and destruction for this land and its people, said Minerva.

That is why we summoned you here Murlock, said Edward. You are the wisest man in this land, if anyone can help us, its you. Unless we act, the Scourge shall surely march across this land and lay waste to everything in their path. I fear our own armies shall not be enough to withstand such an attack.

Majesty, indeed I have the solution to our problem, Murlock nodded. Ive planned for such an occasion.

Planned? asked Minerva with raised eyebrows. She looked puzzled.

Highness, I know of only one man who can turn the tide in this upcoming battle. A man with the same training in the unusual and powerful weapons of the Scourge. A man who saved our land once. A man of great action and courage.

Whispers flowed throughout the crowd like water. They probably already knew who Murlock spoke of.

You mean   Minerva began, but Murlock quickly cut her off.

Exactly! Murlock held up an index finger and nodded. The time has come for the descendant of Lazarus to make his return! The time has come for the greatest hero to ever set foot in this land to make his reappearance! The time has come for Logan to return to Iconoclast!

If anyone can save this land, its Logan! said Leoric.

But suppose even he cant? asked Minerva, her voice quivering with uncertainty.

I understand that what we all expect of him is difficult, maybe even impossible, but hes done it once before, said Murlock. Majesty, this is our only hope to turn the tide of this upcoming battle. We must do this! We simply have no other choice!

The young king and queen sat still upon their thrones for several moments, considering the risks involved and what other options were available. Finally, Edward broke the silence. Very well. Summon him at once!
					#
At that very moment, on planet Earth, in the Romanian countryside, a lone two-story farmhouse stood surrounded by rich fertile land. Inside, sitting at the kitchen table, Logan emptied a bottle of vodka into a small cup while listening to the radio. An older woman stood at the kitchen sink washing the dishes. Even though her name was Maria, Logan mostly called her by another name: mother.
The story being broadcast on the radio was an armistice signed between the allied powers and Germany. With revolutionary problems within their nation, Germany agreed to a cease-fire and ended all hostilities. Today marked the end of the Great War itself.

Its finally over, the woman said as she washed the last of the dishes. Maybe now, the world will have peace. Its a shame that those who died will never return to their loved ones.

How true, Logan muttered to himself. He opened the heart-shaped locked around his neck and stared longingly at the picture within of a beautiful young woman. Tears welled up in his eyes as he thought about what could have been if fate hadnt been so cruel. He wiped his eyes dry and closed the locket. Pride would not allow him to let anyone see him so emotionally weak, not even his own mother.
Twenty million people dead, Maria said as she took off her apron. Your father among them.

Logan would always remember the day he received a telegram from his mother saying that his father had been killed in an aerial dogfight when his plane had been shot down. At least he had managed to shoot down his enemy before he went down. His father had been awarded medals for bravery and heroism, and even a purple heart for being wounded in the line of duty. Medals that now hung within the farmhouse in his mothers bedroom to remind herself of her husbands service.

Logan himself had wanted to serve in the army alongside his father, but he never got the chance. His father would not allow his own son to risk his life in battle and break his mothers heart. They were the only family she had left. Both his paternal and maternal grandparents had died when he was very young. He was their only son, no other children, not even daughters.

Would I really have died as well just as you have? He had asked himself after receiving the telegram of his fathers death. But considering everything he went through only a couple of months ago starting when the Scourge invaded the city he formerly lived and ending in the throne room of a majestic castle atop a mountain summit. Even after all he had endured, he survived where anyone else would have died. Perhaps if he had fought in the war alongside his father, he would survive?
Maria had recruited herself as a nurse to help care for wounded soldiers in the line of duty, but after her husbands death, she lost her passion for her work and returned home. She simply couldnt bear the heartbreak nor being around the wounded and dying. Many of the other nurses had husbands and sons fighting in the military, but they were much stronger in heart and in spirit. Those who had lost loved ones remained on duty to save others. In fact, Maria never did return to her job as a nurse at the local hospital in the nearby city where he formerly lived.
If I die, youre all she has left, father had told him. You need to take care of her should something happen to me.

Logan turned off the radio and downed the vodka. Even though people all across Europe could now pick up the pieces of their lives and rebuild, families were permanently scarred with the loss of their loved ones, a fact he knew all too well when Katrina died.

Even though Garibaldi was dead, the memories tormented him still. The siege on the city where he lived and his fight against his former comrades among the Scourge in an alternate world where they made their base. Even though it had been only less than two months, he still remembered everything as if they had only happened the previous day, memories that would remain within his mind and soul till the moment he took his last breath.

Son, Maria opened the pantry and took out two apples, since when did you take to drink?

For a couple of months now since early September, Logan replied as he set the cup down.

In all the years Ive known your father, he never touched one drop, Maria said shaking her head. He never smoked a pipe either!

And neither have I! Logan said. Look mother, if you went through what I did, youd understand.

Maria sat at the table on the opposite side, giving one apple to him and peeling 
the other. Theres something different about you Logan, she said. You seem more withdrawn since you had originally left home to live in the city. Is your fathers gunshop doing well these days since you took over?

Yes, its fine, said Logan. I find it odd that gun sales didnt increase during the war. Youd think it would, wouldnt you?

He saw his mothers eyes lower towards his neck. Wherever did you get that locket? she asked. I havent ever seen you take it off.

Logan gently grasped the locket with one hand. It was given to me by someone very close to my own heart, he said. He opened it and showed his mother Katrinas picture.

Maria leaned closer to get a better look after swallowing the first slice. Son, shes beautiful, she said. Who was she?

It took whatever strength he had to keep his eyes dry, but the tone of his voice gave away his troubled soul. Her name was Katrina, he said.

What happened? Maria asked, compassion flooding her voice.

He lowered his head and shut his eyes as he felt them begin to water. It still pains me to think about it, he said. And I couldnt save her.

You loved her didnt you? Maria asked sympathetically laying a hand on his shoulder.

Logan closed the locket. She could have been your daughter-in-law. He turned away with his back facing his mother. He dabbed at his wet eyes, drying them with a finger. I never got to propose to her with that ring you gave me when I told I was planning to marry her. You know, old family heirloom.

Im sorry son, Maria whispered to him.

He gently pushed her away. I dont need sympathy from anyone, not even you mother.

You can keep the ring though, Maria said. Someday youll meet someone else just as special. Someone to love as much as you loved Katrina.

I doubt it, Logan shook his head.

I dont suppose her death had anything to do with those mysterious attacks across the world? Maria asked. A ship appearing out of nowhere

Logan didnt want to hear about it, even though he knew what his mother was talking about.

I wonder what happened? asked Maria. Why there are no more attacks? Why theyve stopped invading and killing?

Logan raised his head toward his mother. Funny you should mention that mother, he said.

Maria looked at him, puzzled.

Mother, Im the reason this mysterious army is no longer attacking humanity.
His mother stared wide-eyed at him, astonished as he told the whole story, about how he fought his way through the city to the harbor, stowed on board the ship, and destroyed it, only to strand himself in another dimension. He left out the details about his own former ties to the Scourge for fear of his mothers response, expecting her disappointment in him as a son. He then went on to tell her about how the wizard Murlock had sent him to fight Garibaldi, their founder and leader in the castle of the wizard Lazarus.

When he finally finished the tale after telling her of his return to Earth, he saw her lips curve upward. It filled him with a sense of pride to have told his mother the story and how she appeared to be proud of him.

Son, I know youre upset that you were never able to win your fathers approval, but thats no excuse to make up such a story.

She doesnt believe me! Does she think Im crazy? Like his mother, many other people he met in the city wondered when and where the next attack would be and why it hadnt happened yet. Many times he had been tempted to tell people there would be no more invasions from this mysterious army anywhere because he had single-handedly ended their threat. The fear of being labeled a liar, or even worse, a madman always prevented him from doing so. His own mother was the first people he told and her disbelief confirmed his own suspicions. It would seem that he was destined go down in Earths history as an unsung hero.

Im not making this up mother! he protested but she shook her head.

Please, not another word Logan.

But  

The last thing I want is for my son to get sent to the asylum. Now go outside and get some fresh air. Maybe it will help clear your head. For now, Ive got some cleaning up to do.

Logan knew better than to argue with his mother. Mother always knew best after all. 

He picked up the apple his mother had given him and stepped outside into the cool afternoon air. With the year to end within a month, the days were getting shorter and cooler. The trees had shed their golden leaves, many of which littered the ground. A gentle breeze swept the leaves along the ground as if caught in a giant broom and rustled the hair on the back of his head. It wasnt expected to snow for another couple of weeks.

Logan stood out on the front porch of the farmhouse gazing out towards the western sun. In a way, it felt strange to be back on the farm after spending the last six years living in the city. Only a few times each year did he return to attend Thanksgiving dinner, Christmas, and to visit his parents on their birthdays, and Mothers Day and Fathers Day. With his father dead, she had been living in that house alone for the last two years, with no one for company, save the few hired hands to pick apples from the trees and harvest vegetables from the garden. The family farm had no livestock, which made living here even lonelier for mother. At this time of the year when there was no harvest and the trees bore no apples, the only work that needed to be done was repairs to the fence and clearing the yard. And when the winter came, paths to and from the house would have be to shoveled from the snow and firewood gathered for the fireplace to keep the house warm.
Most of the apples were sold to the market. That was how the farm made much of its income. Whatever fruit wasnt sold was eaten by the family or used to make apple pies and cider. His mothers pies and cider were very popular at the annual county fair. Back when he still lived in the city, every month his mother sent him an apple pie, his favorite dessert. She had one waiting for him whenever he came home to visit.

His apartment had been damaged from the Scourge attack in the city, with one wall blown open. The landlord had evicted Logan from the building until repairs were to be completed, but Logan had already made the decision not to move back in, even though by now the wall had been patched. Even if he had changed his mind, by now the room had been rented out to someone else. All his belongings had been moved back to the farm. He remembered how happy his mother had been to welcome him back home.

Repairs were still being made to the city from the Scourges attack. With the Great War concluded, the process of rebuilding across Europe had begun. Still, it would take a long time for people to rebuild their shattered lives. Buildings and belongings could be replaced, but human lives were a completely different matter.
Taking his first bite of the apple, he sat down upon the steps leading up to the porch and opened the locket Katrina had given him. It felt like such a long time ago, even though it had only been four months since what began as friendship bloomed into romance, since she had given it to him. Love obviously knew no boundaries and could bridge any distance, as a Romanian gunsmith and an Englishwoman had proven to each other within the Scourge. His heart still ached whenever he thought of her name.

His mother would have loved Katrina, for she would have been considered the daughter she never had. In a way, his mother had several of Katrinas own personality traits: compassionate, caring, courageous, and considerate. Father would have been a bit uncomfortable at first as he had never actually known a woman trained in the usage of firearms, but even he would have given the couple their blessing and welcomed her together with his wife as a daughter-in-law. 
He reached into his pocket and took out a tiny black velvet box that fit in the palm of his hand. He flipped open the lid and gazed upon the ring that he would have slipped around Katrinas finger. It was an old family heirloom. No one knew exactly just how old it was. The band was silver and devoid completely of tarnish. The jewel encrusted within was a beautiful pink crystal that shone like the sun when held up to the sky, reflecting dozens of rays of sunlight in every direction.
The box had been mailed to him by his mother after he sent the telegram about his planned proposal to Katrina. Yet he never did get the chance to ask Katrina to marry him. He had been planning to invite her outside of the cathedral where Garibaldi had called a meeting, yet it was during that very meeting when Katrina had spoken out against Garibaldis cause, leading up to her execution.

His heart ached at thoughts of what could have come to pass: marriage, children, and eternity together. If only I could have saved her. If only I could have another chance.

Even now, he still found it hard to believe that she was gone. Never would he forget his own love dying in his arms. What he would give just to see her again. Her warm smile. Her tender voice. The feeling of her lips against his. Her arms around him and vice versa. Never in all his life had he known a more caring soul.
It took him two days of grief before he was able to send a letter to Katrinas parents breaking the news that their daughter was dead and that he was unable to save her even despite his best efforts. He received a reply not long after he returned from Iconoclast. Her mother and father had relayed the news to her sister and the entire family had spent about a month grieving for their loss before they sent a reply. Her niece and nephew had taken the news of their aunts death in the same manner as any children could, shedding many tears and crying while embracing their parents. Katrinas parents thanked him for his condolences and shared their sympathy, even the children had called him uncle Logan. They assured him that they didnt blame him for her death. Katrina had obviously told her parents of their relationship and how much she loved him, having truly found someone to love and be loved in return. They would have approved of having Logan for their son-in-law and welcomed him into the family.

Although London had been attacked by the Scourge before they came to his home city, the telegram was proof that her family had survived.

Your daughter was the bravest woman I had never known, he had said in the telegram. And Im not just saying that because I loved her.

Dont blame yourself, because we certainly dont, one line in the reply was written. But even still, he felt like his heart would never heal.

Although no one on Earth knew of his heroism, the continued survival of mankind was more her legacy than his own. Of all the people he couldnt save, the memory of her death was what tormented him the most, even if being the only one.
Sorrowfully, he closed the box and slipped it back into his pocket.

Many people had died at the hands of the Scourge around the world. But for the thousands who had died, many more would live because of his efforts. He had paid for humanitys salvation with his blood and sweat. But still, victory had left him unsatisfied and unfulfilled. Questions burned within his mind. Had he truly seen the last of the Scourge? Who was Garibaldis master to whom he sold his soul to for great power. Perhaps he would never know.

Looking at Katrinas picture in the locket, Logan found himself thinking back the wedding of his friends Edward and Minerva where he met Agnes, the Iconoclast woman who bore a striking resemblance to his one true love. Still, he had only met her just once. She could never hold a candle to Katrina. He shook his head and closed the locket. He didnt even know her at all or what she was like. Even though the medallion Murlock had given him would allow him passage between this world and Iconoclast, what need did he have to visit? He didnt ever want to go back to a world where so many terrible memories had originated.

He tossed aside the apple core, rose to his feet, and approached a large storage shed his father had used to house his own personal fighter plane. Father wasnt just a Romanian gunsmith who passed on his business and trade to his only son, he was also a skilled pilot. Although the plane had been shot down in a vicious dogfight, the wreckage was recovered and the farms hired hands helped to restore it to as good as new.

The biplane had a sleek black metal body tempered with silver and orange wings. Looking at the plane, Logan pictured himself a teenager sitting in the back seat learning how to fly while his father sat in the pilot seat. They never actually flew more than a few feet the ground as it was considered too dangerous. Even when his father allowed him to sit in the pilot seat for his first flight, he was never allowed to go very high.

Just once, I would love to fly high in the sky, Logan thought. But that time would probably never come.

Other than those flight training sessions, Logan had never been very close to his father as he had been a strict man who demanded discipline from his family. Still, he was a good man who cared a great deal for his family. He never drank or raised his voice or a fist at his loved ones. However, he was not the sort of man who took his son out fishing or hunting as most other fathers did.

Hanging on a wall inside the shed, Logan found his BB gun that his father had given him for Christmas when he was eleven, the very first gun he had ever used. He took it down from where it hung and held it in his hands. He hadnt actually touched or even used it for about seven years now. He still had pellets left, whenever he needed more, dad would always bring as much as he could spare from the gunshop. 

Gazing upon his fathers gift to him, Logan smiled at the thought of spending much of his remaining childhood setting up empty bottles carelessly tossed along the road or that he found across the farm discarded by the hired hands on the fence surrounding their property and then shattering them with well placed shots. Even to this day, there were still a few shards of glass lying on the ground on the other side of the fence.

He hung the gun back up and walked out of the shed back towards the farmhouse. So many memories. His mother had sent him out here to clear his head, but this trip down memory land had only refilled it with old memories. Such times are hard to forget.

There were some memories he only wished he could forget, which of course was impossible. 
					#
Mother? He waited for a reply, but there was none. The silence of the house concerned him and he felt his heart race. He began to search the house for her. Was she even in the house? He never saw her step outside, so where could she be?
The last place he checked was the bedroom where he was sleeping. There was no sign of his mother here either.  Then his eyes fell upon the feather duster lying upon the floor. A gasp erupted from his throat and he felt a sudden chill down his neck.

He reached down to pick the duster up. What happened? He asked himself. Why would mother leave her feather duster on the floor. She has always been a neat and tidy woman.

But then he saw a glint of silver upon the wall opposite the western window. It came from the medallion that was given to him for his deeds of valor in Iconoclast, a magical charm to take him to and from the world whenever he wished. Over the past weeks, a layer of dust covered the metal, but now it sparkled in the afternoon sunlight.

Logans heart skipped a beat and his throat tightened as the realization kicked in. The pieces of this puzzle fit perfectly together. It was obvious what had happened. His mother had been dusting in his room, but when the duster brushed against the medallion, the magic had transported her from this world to Iconoclast.

He reached to take the medallion from the wall, but from a corner of his vision, he saw a glow from the mirror hanging on the wall.

Logan, a familiar voice echoed from its glass interior.

What the? He approached the mirror and stood in front of it. An image was forming within its walls. Finally, the image of a familiar face appeared before him. He recognized the brown bearded face of Murlock. Hello Logan.

Seeing Murlock reflected in the mirror startled him. His legs carried him back two steps before he turned, expecting to find the wizard standing behind him, but he was alone. Murlock must have used a magic spell to contact him.

What an unexpected surprise Murlock! I never actually expected to hear from you again.

It would seem that the hand fate dealt demands otherwise. 

Logan wished his mother was here, then perhaps she would finally believe his story. But upon hearing the grave tone of Murlocks voice, Logan sensed that something was wrong. Something tells me you have more than arranging a reunion with old friends in mind.

Murlock shook his head. Im afraid you are correct Logan. Theres trouble in Iconoclast.

Trouble? What now? What could possibly happen in the time since Garibaldis death and the dissolution of his magic?

But why would you want my help? Or even need it? Why should an outsider interfere in the affairs of another world? It was not his duty or his place. Other than his need to locate his mother and bring her home, he really had no desire to return to Iconoclast.

I understand your reluctance to interfere, said Murlock. With Garibaldi dead and our land restored to its former glory, you may feel that the land has no further need for you. However, the nature of our current plight and the danger we all face now says otherwise.

Uneasiness gnawed at his insides, but he fought to contain his sense of dread. After all he went through two months ago, Logan felt he could conquer anything.
Well, not quite everything. Personal issues to name one.

Last night, the land came under attack by a powerful army not of this world. They fight with weapons that spout fire and kill from a distance. Our own armies have so far proven helpless to stop them. Not even our finest knights would probably stand much of a chance against them.

Weapons that spout fire and kill from a distance? That sounds awfully familiar.

So far, they have invaded the kingdoms of Naphorphia and Dunkilus, Murlock went on. The swords of Water and Sky have fallen into their hands. Naphorphia was taken by surprise and suffered great casualties and devastation. Dunkilus quickly surrendered in order to save itself from a similar fate. The kingdoms of Tamirtania and Arcanius still defend the swords of Earth and Fire, but they may be claimed by this enemy yet!

Who are these invaders? asked Logan, his uneasiness growing stronger by the second, too powerful to fight back.

According to a survivor of Naphorphia who brought the news to Iconoclast castle, they are the followers of Garibaldi, the Scourge.

Shocked, Logan opened his eyes wide at the mention of those names. What?

Garibaldi may be no more, yet the fruits of his labor thrive. I fear for the whole land should they reclaim the elemental swords. While it is unclear as to what their true goal is, it is certain that they must be stopped at all costs!
Logan felt his blood begin to boil with anger and vindictive wrath. It seemed Garibaldis death did nothing to end the Scourges murderous rampage. Innocent people were dying and many more lives could be lost, all in the name of their founder. Surely the Scourge would seek revenge against him for Garibaldis death, but he knew no fear. He had fought them on Earth and in Iconoclast without regard for his own life, all in the name of his beloved.

That is why I contacted you Logan, said Murlock. We need you, our greatest hero, more than ever! Youre our only hope!

You made a promise to Katrina at her grave, he reminded himself. And as long as the Scourge continues its genocidal mission, that promise is unfulfilled and her death still unavenged. Your work is not done yet!

If that is so Murlock, then I cannot ignore your request. I will return right away!

Murlock smiled. Thank you Logan, I knew I could count on you. I cannot guarantee where the magic of the medallion I gave you will take you, but you must take that chance. Were counting on you Logan. Hurry!

Murlocks visage faded from the mirror after speaking that final word.
					#
Logan armed himself for the coming battle, loading his shotgun and his Tommy gun. The Scourge preferred killing from a distance, not meeting their opponents up close in a fair fight, yet with his skills in their weapons, the tables could be turned. Though he was only one man, it had been enough to defeat them on Earth and in Iconoclast. With him on their side, the people of the land would have a chance.
He slipped on his trench coat and put on his hat. The medallion hung from around his neck, ready to be activated to take him back to the world he had promised himself never return to. But now, duty was calling for him and he could not ignore it. Just as his father had been called to war, so too had he been called to be the savior of Iconoclast once more. Business had been slow at the gunsmith shop, he could afford to take a short vacation. With the Great War ended, not many people would be buying firearms.

With his weapons safely stored away, Logan took the medallion into his hands and rubbed it with his thumbs. Instantly, sparkles surrounded him and a bright pillar of light surrounded his body before spreading outward. His feet lifted off the ground and he found himself traveling down a diamond-shaped tunnel of white light. Mysterious forces pulled him toward the opposite end where a mystical portal swirled, expecting him.

Logan furrowed his brow and gritted his teeth in determination behind his lips. 

Its not over yet!

As he entered the portal, the tunnel disappeared and his surroundings changed to that of a clearing with trees. Below him a swamp river flowed down the hill from the entrance of a forest.

Katrina, my promise to you will be fulfilled yet!

The battle against Garibaldi was long over, but the war against the Scourge had only truly just begun!