Issue #84 – Darkness Falling

This entry is part 13 of 14 in the series The Descendants Vol 7: The New World

Chaos and Darkness had been flying to intercept the tanks when Alloy reported the sneak attack.

It was all Chaos needed to hear to stop short and turn back toward the mound. “Richter.” He growled.

Before he could act on his instincts, however, a slender hand caught his upper arm. “No you don’t.” Darkness said in a soothing voice. She held up a finger to halt the words she expected to bubble out of his mouth. “This is exactly like Meridian Beach, remember? I was too invested and needed to step back. You were there to make sure I did. Now it’s my turn.”

For a moment, Chaos peered at his fiancee through his visor and looked to be considering an argument. Then his shoulders slumped and he nodded. “You’re right. I’d just complicate things. Go kick his ass, beautiful.” Leaning forward, he gave her a quick kiss through the swarm of black heat that blanketed her body.

Darkness’s smile was only detectable as an eddy in the particles around her mouth, but he could still tell it was there by her voice. “All the encouragement I needed.” she said before taking off for the mound.

Sparing a few seconds to watch her go, Chaos then turned to once more face the field of parachutes that littered the sky. After a second pass from the Gustav, there were now somewhere in the neighborhood of forty people floating toward the ground and three tanks. Barring any more relic-powered extremists, it was easy to tell what the main threat was.

Conjuring a blast of wind, Chaos hurtled toward the nearest tank.

Immediately, the Adriel members around it (or at least those not concerning themselves with the approaching ground) opened fire with machine guns. The recoil was sending some of them wildly off course or getting them partially tangled in their chute lines, but they managed to handily filled the air with lead.

Mindful that part of his face was exposed as well as the fact that a fortunately angled shot could still penetrate ballistic cloth, Chaos sharply increased the density of the local atmosphere and sent it out ahead of him in a bow wave. The effect on the bullets was much like those of bullets entering water: they lost speed and their trajectory was ruined by the sudden change in density. Those that sill managed to hit him were now moving too slowly to do much damage through the ballistic cloth.

Seconds after the first burst of fire, Chaos go his opening to respond in kind. Throwing out his hands, he hit the nearest Adriel members’ parachutes with a gale that whipped them far out to the sides, spiraling like dandelion seeds in all directions.

The left him facing the tank.

Three parachutes connected to the machine at hard points, allowing it to descend while staying properly oriented. Not being familiar with tank models, Chaos could only guess at what kind of tank it was. All he really knew was that it looked old and that the Adriel had added some after-market accoutrements, including silver inlaid Gnostic symbols across every armored surface, a thick rope surrounding the track housing and hung with the same kind of zig-zag paper tassels he recalled seeing at holy site on his trip to Japan, and a ring of what looked to be Russian script engraved into the barrel of the main gun. For religious extremists, the Adriel weren’t above stealing from every possible culture for their mystical relics and devices.

As Chaos drew near, the turret rotated to target him. The script around the barrel blazed orange, alerting the approaching hero just enough time to realize something wasn’t right and throw himself aside. An instant later, a solid beam of white-hot energy lanced out, boiling the air around it into a roiling turbulence that disrupted Chaos’s air currents and almost knocked him out of the sky.

Turning in air, he watched the beam rapidly streak out to sea and disappear, either over the horizon or dissipated in the upper atmosphere—he couldn’t be sure which.

“Dangerous toy you boy have here.” He remarked, filling his palms with water from his gauntlet reservoirs to prepare a pair of Chaos Novas.

“You don’t know the half of it.” A shadow passed over him. He didn’t even have to look up to find Harbonah dropping down from above on wings of light, his sword held high.

***

The first wave of Adriel foot soldiers had set down in a clearing. Quick-release harnesses allowed them to free themselves from their chutes quickly and form up into squads of five and fan out for the trek to the mound.

‘Quick’ was not fast enough. The squads barely broke the treeline before a yellow and red blur erupted from the underbrush and sent someone in the rear guard crashing to the ground moaning in pain as he clutched his gut. As his squad-mates went to see to him, the blur returned, delivering a sharp kick to the back of one’s knees, then grabbing the assault rifle out of another’s hands and sprinting away.

“They’re here!” Shouted one of the remaining rearguard squaddies. “We’re under attack from the speedster!”

“Oh, it’s not just her.” A voice came from a tree half the force had already passed, and as they watched, a chunk of wood detached from the its trunk, reshaping itself into a roughly feminine shape covered in bark. She leaned against the tree, appearing to be the only thing holding it up after she emerged from it. Plucking a piece of wood from her own shoulder, she smiled a splinter-toothed smile and used it to pick her teeth. “Mmm. Heartwood was particularly tasty today.”

The reply she got was in the form of several bursts of gunfire in her direction, which she ignored entirely. Instead of being riddled with bullets and dying, she simply let go of the tree and stepped aside with a cheeky, “Timber.”

Giving out with a groan, the stricken tree collapsed, sending the Adriel members in its path scattering for cover. With their forces effectively split and chaos starting to take hold, they didn’t notice at first when pellets started pattering down from the trees above, expanding into lumps of green foam wherever they struck. Nor did they react immediately when a man emerged from the brush wielding kali sticks.

“Yes, panic and fleet, you blighters.” Grand Dodger crowed as she set upon his country’s invaders. He stepped casually out of the path of a rifle butt aimed for his head, cracked the elbow of the woman swinging it at him with one stick, used the other to knock the helmet from her head, and then again the deal her a rap to the temple that crumpled her to the ground.

In the next motion, he raised his offhand stick to deflect to rounds aimed in his direction. With a quick lunge, he knocked the barrel of the offending weapon aside, then thrust the stick in his main hand deep into the gut of the man holding it. As the Adriel soldier doubled over in pain, he was met with a knee to the bridge of his nose and a brutal strike to his ribs, which fractured at least one and left him on the ground gasping.

Somewhere nearby, a radio squawked and someone started shouting into it. “Reverend! Reverend! We need support down here! They’re everywhere!”

“Indeed that are.” said Grand Dodger, twirling one of his sticks as he stalked toward the radioman.

He shouldn’t have bothered. A bar of blue energy as thick as his thumb pierced through the man’s radio, destroying it utterly as Zero flew onto the scene, swathed in a blue aura of psychokinetic energy. She looked down at the others joining the battle against the first wave of enemies. “Are you guys okay here?”

“Peachy.” grinned Facsimile. As she punched on Adriel member in the jaw, she shifted from bark-covered to golden, still ignoring the copious amount of ammunition being pumped into her from everyone who thought they had a shot and who forgot who and what they’d been told she was. “There’s more guys on their way to the ground, go wrap ’em up in their parachutes or something so these guys don’t get any help!”

Zero nodded. “Good idea! I’m on it!”

Just as she turned toward the clearing, a shriek beyond any noise a normal human could make split the sky. A wall of solid sound struck the flying heroine head-on and slammed her backward into a tree. Dazed, she fell to the ground, senseless.

“A good idea that’s not going to be executed.” From another area of the forest emerged Gospel, his white cloak billowing around him as he tracked in on the blur that was Vamanos and belted out another sonic burst that lifted the speedster off her feet and hurled her far out into the field where the group of Adriel first landed.

The fact that his mouth was the only part of his face visible made his sneer all the more sinister as spoke. “You’re all fools, attempting to oppose God. The raises up your enemies with his right hand and smites you with his left!” He punctuated his words with another scream, directed at Facsimile and Grand Dodger.

***

The chamber seemed to darken as the Fallen Angel stretched its wings open. Even rendered faceless by its mask (assuming it even was a mask), it seemed to scowl as it recounted its knowledge in reply to Codex’s questioning.

“Maeve is the Queen of the Air and Darkness. If you know if it as all, you would know her Realm as the Black World.”

“Green, Yellow… Aenix called Earth ‘Blue’, and now Black?” How many worlds are there?” Codex asked.

“Countless. Most dead. Most out of reach even by the Dark Roads.” said the construct. “Those bound together by the Astral Plane and monitored by the Orrery of Worlds number eight: Blue, Green, Yellow, White, Silver, Black, Red and Grey.”

It gave her an almost haughty look that she and Occult felt more than saw. “But the pressing concern is Maeve. The denizens of the Air and Darkness live in a world rich in magic—a resource that make war over; conquer over. Long ago, Maeve led her people in conquest against the Green World to gain more. At the bequest of allies in the Green, the cunning folk helped stem that assault, cursing Maeve to be unable to keep a permanent foothold in the Green, needing to convalesce on her Throne in the Air and Darkness for seven and seven years for every fifty and one that she spends outside of it.

“In the process, Maeve gained knowledge of the Orrery and in turn, the Blue World. Twice, while she held the Green World, Faerie—the closest of the seven other worlds to ours—has she tried to take this world as well. Each time, she was beaten back, but at great cost to both sides.”

Occult spoke up then. “When were these attacks?”

“In the time of Akhenaten and Nefertiti and again during the reign of Gaius Octavian. Maeve and her people are long-lived and willing to plot for the very long term.”

At this, Codex gave an odd look. “That’s a thousand year window. So why hasn’t there been another attack in more than two thousand?”

The construct turned to face her again. “Because in the intervening time, the Arts of magic ebbed in the West, allowing a single mad sorceress to spark a backlash that nearly drove it to extinction here and through that disuse, eventually drove it to dormancy in the greater world. With magic weakened, so to was the power that ties the Blue to the Green. Maeve has not been able to locate the Blue World for centuries.”

“Witch hunts.” Occult parsed. “We have the murders of dozens—maybe hundreds of innocent people to thank for keeping something that worries even Armigal at bay?”

“It was not a necessary sacrifice.” the Fallen Angel admitted. “In the interim, the cunning folk perfected Caldabolg to combat Maeve and her power. With a worthy soul holding the All-Cutting Sword, Maeve would have to beware.”

The sounds of footsteps announced newcomers before the voice did. “The Doctor thought it was the Grail.”

Occult and Codex turned to find Richter and Delilah standing at the arc. Neither seemed surprised to see the Angel there, which Codex realized was probably to be expected.

“Richter.” Codex said, swinging her staff around.

Levanto esta pared!” Occult cast her shield spell almost in reflex, calling up a barrier of red, translucent planes of force into being between the two heroines and the Adriel pair.

A smirk came to Richter’s face and he leveled his revolver. “Your magic is nothing before the power of the Lord.” He fired and the top left-hand quarter of the shield spell disintegrated into a cloud of glittering motes and the rest started to crumble.

While the pair watched the spell collapse in shock, Delilah stepped forward.

In the Name of God—”

“Shut. Up!” Alloy slammed into the woman from behind, bowling her over even as the tentacles wrapped her mouth and legs. He had the tentacles lift her off the ground. “No more mind-woogies. I’m not…”

Only then did he spot the Fallen Angel. “Holy crap! Uh… sorry, I—”

He’s taken his eye off Richter just for a split second. That was all the other man needed to fire a shot directly into his stomach. The sound was deafening, rebounding around the inside of the chamber along with the tearing sound as it punched through super-durable armor.

“Hruk.” Alloy gasped and dropped to the ground.

Isp and Osp screeched, the sound of metal rending, and threw Delilah across the room to crash through one of the quartz ‘screens’, smashing the surprisingly fragile spire to glittering powder. They then sharpened themselves, Osp to begin cutting the armor away from its friend’s wound while Isp slashed out at Richter, who dodged away from its furious swipe.

“Alloy!” Occult shouted, rushing to her friend’s aid.

As much as she wanted to go to him too, Codex knew she needed to take out the immediate threat. Splitting her staff in half and converting those halves to tonfa, she leapt at Richter, who parried with his gun and tried to bring it to bear against her.

Codex’s training was too good, however and she caught his arm under her own and threw him over her hip to the floor.

Landing in a roll, Richter came up and quickly picked his target. His third shot passed right by Codex, who didn’t even bother to dodge. She thought he’d missed until she heard Occult scream and fall.

The Adriel’s gunman got to his feet. “A gut shot and a blown knee. One’s as good as dead while the other’s gonna need full replacement surgery—unless your healer gets here quick.” He informed her. “I heard about the comms problem while we were staking you out. You’re gonna have to go find her yourself.”

Gripping her tonfas so hard the grips creaked, Codex weighed her options. None were good. She was well-trained and could beat Richter in an extended fight—but she had no idea whether or not Alloy in particular had time for an ‘extended’ anything.

“You’d just let me walk away?” She asked, giving a meaningful look up at the Angel, which had watched the whole thing unfold without comment.

“Not here to kill you. I’m just here for that ‘sword’.”

Codex dropped her guard, sure for a second she’d be shot in the next instant. When she wasn’t she took a step toward the arch. “Looks like I’ve got no choice.” She snarled at him before turning and running back toward the exit.

“That worked well.” said Richter, ignoring the groans of Delilah as she tried to extricate herself from where she landed. “Now…”

He holstered his revolver and held out his arms as if to display that he was now unarmed. “I am of the Adriel; servants of the Lord in the war against the demons that assail Creation. Doctor Tang sent us to take up the relic.”

The construct stared at him and spoke in a low, dangerous voice. “Did he now?”

“As you are a servant of the Almighty, you know this to be true.”

“I am not the creature you think I am. And you are not what you believe yourself to be.” said the Angel. “You would use Caldabolg to bring pain and ruin. You know not the truth of the invasion this world faces, nor do you care. If you try and take the All-Cutting Sword, your power will be turned upon you.”

Richter’s hands balled into fists and his eyes narrowed. Was this a test? Or was the Angel telling him he wasn’t worthy?

“There is no time for this. The world descends into corruption and wickedness as we speak!” He drew his revolver. “I will take the relic. And do great works with it.”

“Oh god…” he heard someone say behind him. “Richter!”

Darkness. He knew the voice. She didn’t matter now. He fired a shot into the Fallen Angel, which recoiled. Then he stepped forward to grab what was on the anvil.

The empty hilt of a sword; iron wrapped in leather with two prongs rising out of it and two smaller ones jutting out of the hole where the sword’s blade would normally fit into it; was dull and plain, but its presence screamed of power.

He reached out for it.

“So be it.” declared the Angel, rising up to its full height and becoming surrounded in a halo of light.

“You son of a bitch!” That was the last thing Richter heard before something hit him hard from behind, smashing his forehead into the waiting anvil.

Then everything turned to light…

To Be Continued…

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About Vaal

Landon Porter is the author of The Descendants and Rune Breaker. Follow him on Twitter @ParadoxOmni or sign up for his newsletter. You can also purchase his books from all major platforms from the bookstore
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30 Comments

  1. I find it interesting that the ‘ultimate weapon’ prepared against Maeve is Caladbolg, which in the Irish mythology was wielded by Fergus mac Róich, who was a lover of Maeve.

    • Much like Arthur, Fergus’s legend was co-opted into clues by the Cunning Folk, then corrupted by years of oral tradition.

      • Ooh, that invites speculation about what the different elements of Cattle raid of Cooley refer to in the Descendants mythology. One could maybe surmise that Conchobar mac Nessa, Maeve’s first husband with whom she ended up warring with, could be the same character as Erolking. And of course the ‘fords’ where Cú Chulainn held Maeve’s army at bay start looking like portals between worlds when considered in this kind of light.

  2. Typos & oddities

    thing on he anvil,
    the

    made he too tense
    her

    around occult who
    around Occult, who

    “Then you quest
    your

    4 Books
    four Books

    ensorcerelled
    ensorcelled

    arrived while it
    arrived, then it

    Aside from that, she was wearing tactical webbing
    She’s wearing a face veil, tactical webbing and nothing else? Really?

    paragraph starting Something cold and insidious
    Technically correct but too many its for clarity.

    he unsummned them
    unsummoned

  3. Typos

    Chaos go his
    got

    toy you boy have
    boys

    panic and fleet
    flee

    deflect to rounds
    two

    “Indeed that are.”
    Could be they are , we are or that they are.

    on Adriel member
    one

    The raises up your
    He

    resource that make war over
    that they make

    At the bequest
    request

    Caldabolg
    Caladbolg

    was dull and plain
    it was dull and plain

    The construct seems to change voice from formal to colloquial in this chapter. I’m not sure if that was intended. Also the Dodger still sounds more archaic than the construct; again, not sure if that was intended.

  4. Actually, it’s just the one comment by the construct – “Did he now?” – that made me think that it sounded colloquial. The rest is still formal as it was before.

    • The construct is supposed to sound more weird than archaic because it’s learning (modern) English out of their heads.

      No excuses for Dodger. New character, trying to pin down voice and I guess the more formal Silence’s voice is bleeding into his.

  5. Typos and a few comments

    Ephemeral too, there’s apparently a mentalist here too.”
    One too many too’s IMO, I’d drop the second.

    The Dodger’s sounding like a Brit from this century, that’s good.

    pressing chaos against
    Chaos

    tightly compacted burst
    Um. Focused? Compressed or concentrated?

    lower half g his
    of his

    out to covered the wound
    cover

    through grit teeth.
    gritted

    to say nothing for the defense of this world
    Maybe save instead of ‘say’, or of instead of ‘for’, or not instead of ‘to say nothing’. It doesn’t quite make sense as written.

    A glaive is to quote wikipedia “a European polearm weapon, consisting of a single-edged blade on the end of a pole”. A double-edged blade is probably some variety of spear.

    Richter tried to wriggled free
    wriggle

    One more the glaive
    Once

    • Maybe I’m thinking ranseur. I need to look it up. The original character of Darkness had a ‘lance’ that was really a spear, so… I’m bad at this.

  6. “…came back,s he was…”
    Misplaced space.

    “She his heart.”
    Missing the predicate.

    “…bran, ground beef live, kale, sardines, blueberries, garlic seaweed potatoes and a fistful of vitamin supplements…”
    Missing some commas and the r from liver.

    “…Caldabolg…”
    Caladbolg.

  7. there was magical entity
    was a magical

    Adriel foot soldiers This
    missing a full stop after soldiers

    Gospel ad just
    had

    Ears of practice
    Years

    extending fro the
    from

    bind the Adriel woman’s eyes.
    With zip cuffs?

  8. Certain things are looking familiar from the forums…

    Anyone else find it odd that someone who used mind control to get a powerset immediately has names for their attacks with those powers?

  9. The commas came back
    comms

    controlled by rogue guardian
    by a rogue

    issued out of every opening in seam of the vehicle,
    Maybe ‘the seams’ instead of ‘seam’? Or ‘and’ instead of ‘in’?

    weapon’s ax head
    An axe now? – a glaive is like a single edged knife or cleaver, on the end of a stick. Is it morphing? That seems sort of reasonable considering what it’s made of, but it might be worth mentioning it.

    raised the glaive on guard.
    to guard.

    & yes, it’s nice that someone has obviously been sending anime comic books or shows to King Arthur’s tomb.

    • I had forgotten it was a glaive (and yeah, I finally settled on glaive after looking at some pictures) and wrote ‘halberd’ in this chapters, which is where the ax head came from.

  10. Typos

    The one flew true
    Might be ‘This one’ or ‘The second one’ or something like that

    before its crashed
    it

    non-too
    none too

    grunt f exertion
    of

    Codex b the arm,
    by

    capture limb painfully
    captured

    did it one the
    on

    whether or not the possessed by of Darkness
    Lose the ‘by of’ I think.

    orange being peels,
    peeled,

    lift her n his
    in

    jeopardize her healthy.
    health.

  11. I’ve often wondered when reading superhero stories (web or comic), why the absolute, unrelenting opposition to killing? I know it’s not something you want to encourage, but cops shoot to kill, and so do soldiers, but as soon as you get super powers and fight people that can destroy entire cities, NOW it’s un-heroic? What will they do if they ever come up against a case where it is literally ‘Them-or-us’? Sacrifice their life or the lives of innocents so they don’t have to kill? Or will they never face a situation like that because it will never be written that way?

    • Soldiers and cops have public mandates, accountability, and TRAINING. Superheroes are private citizens with (largely) secret identities. You really don’t want random private citizens getting away with tons of murders without any of the discipline and training to tell when and where to apply it or how to handle it.

      Also, frankly, given the past two years, its time for the cops to dial back on the killing too and soldiers aren’t being properly cared for when it comes to dealing with it.

      Plus, given superpowers and the massive resources some of these people have, they have no excuse for not at least looking for alternatives. A cop or soldier isn’t bulletproof or the equivalent. And the likes of Batman or Ted Kord have more advanced armor than public funds will get and thus don’t have the self defense justification most of the time.

      Finally, I am not sympathetic at all the killer ‘heroes’ like Punisher of Cable. They’re villains who happen to kill people society is cool with murdering.

      • Nothing to add. I just think you’re right.

      • I think there’s one other reason to be opposed to superheroes killing, related to everything you said. Because they are essentially private citizens who put themselves in harm’s way of their own free will without oversight, the entire nature of “self-defense” is a murky concept with superheroes. If someone breaks into my house with a gun and I kill him to survive, I think that’s morally okay. If I get attacked while walking to the subway, it’s the same thing again. If I go out looking for trouble (no matter how well-intentioned I might be) then it changes the situation drastically, because life-threatening dangers are not being imposed on me against my will. The dynamic is different when you SEEK OUT dangerous situations actively, with intent and forethought.

        I totally agree with everything you said, though. I also think it’s worth noting that saying “superheroes shouldn’t kill” doesn’t necessarily mean “a single death causes me to judge a superhero to be a bad person.” If Batman knocks someone off of a roof to stop him from pressing the trigger that would set off a bomb, I wouldn’t be happy about the death, but I wouldn’t write him off as a bad guy, either. I think some people assume that anyone who wants superheroes not to kill is applying ridiculously judgmental standards, which is just…not true.

        note: Not directing that as a barb at you, Kobin. Just observing something I’ve seen when the question came up in the past.

        Anyway, to me the central question of any super-powered story/setting is: People get power. How do they use it? It’s one thing to kill in war or self-defense, but superheroes are operating on their individual (or small-group) ideologies. There’s a difference between a person or small group killing someone and a court system killing someone (when the courts work, at least).

        Narratively, I also believe that stories tend to work better when death isn’t cheap (unless death being cheap is part of the point). If a “superhero” kills too often or a story contains too many deaths, then it ceases to hold the same dramatic weight. So, there’s that.

    • If random people can get away with killing you end up with an horribly dysfunctional society. For example, see Stone Burners where the author took that idea and ran with it.

      There’s other options where heroes can get some sort of sanction for killing, but the stories either ignore the consequences or have some sort of oversight which you don’t normally associate with superheroes. Drew Hayes’ Super Powereds springs to mind.

    • It goes all the way back to golden age Superman and the very roots of the superhero genre as a twisted justification fantasy where the schoolyard bully beats up whoever they like and that makes them a hero. You see, they only beat up bad people (like those who think they’re so smart or like wrong things), and they don’t kill. Clearly heroic, right?

      When your heroes start killing when necessary, it shifts the whole genre. You no longer have heroes, you have benevolent tyrants whose judgment you can’t opt out of and who answer to nobody. Note how this is the only difference between, say, JLA and the Authority.

      • Actually, in the Golden age, they Looooooved killing. Batman killed a dude by punching him into acid in his very first comic. Flash let a bunch of villains get gassed, then ran the other off a cliff. Thou Shalt Not Kill only really came into effect during the Silver Age when superheroes got a retool into gee-whizz sci-fi stories with an undercurrent of the betterment of society (as a contrast to the Golden Age’s tendency to kill their way out of their problems.)

        Also, Superman was invented by two Jewish kids as an outlet to dream up someone who would protect them from the many, MANY people who bullied THEM. The people he beats up in Action Comics 1 are: a wifebeater and some dudes who kidnap Lois. Now if you want to get into the kidnappings he commits (binds and gags a murderer to take her to the governor in order to prevent an execution, picked up and carries the governor’s butler when he isn’t allowed to see the governor, picks up and carries away a lobbyist who is implied to be trying to legally trick the US into entering WWII on the Axis side)… I have no idea where he was taking that last guy. Massive, festering corruption isn’t illegal in congress.

        Sorry Mazzon, but your analysis is incorrect.

    • Also, it’s weird that this is the story that triggered this conversation because the Angel attacked those dudes out of spite. This was a villain killing other villains.

      Unless the issue is the Descendants working to save them. In which case, this isn’t any different from what police (are supposed to) do. If you shoot someone and they’re down but alive, you call an ambulance. You don’t for example, leave them in the middle of the street for four hours while you go make up some story about being attacked by the Incredible Hulk and warding him off with your standard issue Gamma bullets.

  12. >expanding mas of black heat

    No mas! No mas!

  13. Typos

    hard to breath
    breathe

    expanding mas of black
    mass

    Not a typo – but it’s amazing Alexis never experimented enough to find a basic limit like that. Well, I guess she isn’t a guy.

    From the constructs the Angel created though, assuming it wasn’t part of a spell, accounted for enough
    Either lose ‘From’ or change ‘accounted’ to ‘there was’ IMO. Or something like that, it doesn’t quite scan.

    just to get help thin
    Lose ‘get’ or ‘get help’

    Chaos ‘s
    Chaos’s

    To be continued when I’ve dealt with an overexcited puppy.

    • Choas noted that it
      Chaos

      place staed its hand.
      stayed

      Hucking this sword
      Chucking

      you cold find
      could

      I attack them almost ten minutes ago.
      attacked

      others got into gar,
      gear,

      An rested his chin
      Ian

  14. Just finished a full binge through your archive, and man, what a place to wind up. Excellent stor(y/ies), completely baffled how you keep them all straight. I’ll be adding The Descendants to my reading list, keep up the great work!

    Typos-
    “The one commands”–> should be “This”
    “E didn’t care”– > should be “He”

    Also, not in this chapter, but this is sorta a recurring one throughout the archive, “bought”- – > should be “brought”

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