2 The Ruins

     Sword stalked quietly towards the ruins. He followed the small group of what looked like treaure hunters through the rocky valley that led straight into the mouth of an ancient temple built into the rock. They had entered about ten minutes before, with Sword following at a distance.
     Treasure hunters often came in across the border from nearby lands. They could not stay in Garland for more than a few hours at a time without being mutated and transformed by the evil energy exisiting there. It was stronger in some areas of Garland, while in others it had waned over the one hundred years since the Omen--evidence of the land slowly coming back to herself.
     The barbarian crossed the threshold of the crumbling temple. Even in the days of his tribe he had never ventured this far to the south east. In fact, he had barely left the bosom of the North Mountains back then. But in his Eternal Wanderings, he had seen all of Garland--not a stone was unknown to him.      Or so he thought until minutes ago. He had never seen this place before. He wondered what it was like in life. Was it then filled with a people like his? Or with those who would have been his enemies? He would never know for sure. But he did know that he pursued enemies now--enemies of Garland who wanted to pillage her.
     He could hear voices ahead through the darkness.
     "We may have to come back for the rest. Just take what you can carry for now," said a gruff voice, probably belonging to a large man.
     Sword counted three other voices. With his six swords, he had more weapons than there were enemies. Should be easy, he thought.
     The barbarian stepped out of the darkness and into the a vast inner chamber where the treasure hunters were. At first they didn't notice him as their backs were turned. But one young man turned around and saw Sword, bristling with weapons, and furiously tapped the shoulder of a slightly older man near him.
     "What? Will you stop hitting--" Then he turned and saw what had made his friend unable to speak. "Who are you?"
     "I am Sword. And you are trespassing."
     "Sword? Sorry to inform you that this land is dead. None of this stuff belongs to anyone anymore. We are treasure hunters, and this land is full of treasure just waiting to be claimed."
     "Garland is not dead, my friend. She is merely sleeping--waiting for her wounds to be cleansed and her scars to heal before she awakens."
     The man laughed. "And what are you doing here then? Could it be that you want the treausre for yourself, and are going to kill us and take it?"
     "No," said Sword boldly. "I want nothing from this land. She has given me everything, and I can ask nothing more of her. I am her protector. Now, leave this place or I will kill you all."
     The man Sword was talking to pulled out a pistol and aimed it at the barbarian. The younger man next to him, bolder now that his friend was so bold, did the same. From behind them there were two sharp clicks and another man energed with a small machine gun. Sword, of course, did not know what these devices were, but he knew he was being threatened.
     The barbarian sprinted in close the the younger of the pistol-weilding men and before he could get a shot off he was sliding across the floor with a broken jaw. His older counterpart was tossed roughly into the man with the machine gun, knocking them both to the ground.
     "I have not even drawn a sword yet. You still have a chance to go back to your homes alive and in one piece," said Sword. "Please, it need not end in bloodshed."
     "You're right," said the man who had the machine gun. "It doesn't need to end that way. But that is up to you." He leveled the gun and Sword's chest. "Well, what will it be? Either you leave alive, or you stay here dead."
     Sword sighed and dropped his head.
     "Why must you make things difficult?"
     "Difficult? It's easy for me," said the man as he pulled the trigger on the machine gun, loosing twenty bullets into Sword's chest.
     The barbarian fell backward to the ground in a shower of blood and moaned. Almost instantly he was on his feet again, small red pits the only evidence of the bulletholes. The treasure hunters all stared in awe.
     "My conscience is clear--I have given you a chance."

CONT

1 Stolen Jewels

     Sword had battled the creature all the way to the peak of the mountain. It was cold there, the rocky crags covered in snow. Sword had been wounded and was covered in scratches, cuts and scars. The creature swung its sword at the barbarian, slicing across his stomach. He was tired and cold, and his reactions were slowing down. Sword dropped to the ground.
     The gash would have caused a normal man to bleed to death, if not spill the guts, but Sword is far from normal. Blood stained the snow for a moment, then the flow stopped. The Healing had taken place, sealing up the gash in his stomach with a new scar. It usually happened fairly instantaneously, before he lost much blood. He lay still enough for the creature to think it had won.
     The creature was a strange beast. At one time is was a lizard of some sort, but now it was something more. It stood on it's hind legs, almost resembling a human. It held a sword in one leathery fist and a spear in the other. The extra set of legs that had grown on it's sides each held shields. Since Garland's destruction by the Omen, whatever creatures had wandered into the cursed land was mutated and altered into a monster. Only Sword was immune to it.
     When the creature dropped it's defense, Sword leaped into action. He jumped to his feet and charged the creature. He shoved his shortsword down through the beast's foot and into the ground. He drew another shortsword from a sheath across the small of his back and jammed it into the top of creature's thigh as it dropped to a knee, and out the front of it's shin. Sword then drew one of the broadswords crossed on his back and hacked off one of the creature's arms before having it swatted away by another. The other broadsword was out almost immediately as Sword subtracted another two of the beast's arms. It's tail then reached out and wrapped around the blade, desperately pulling it away. Most of the tail went with it. That left Sword with two thin scimitars held vertically on his back, pointed up with the handles just above his hips. The barbarian circled around behind the creature, drew the scimitars and finished off the creature.
     As the body fell and Sword replaced his weapons in their sheaths, he scanned the ground, looking for the jewels creature stole. He checked a leather satchel next to the body and poured out the colorful ore.
     "These belong to Garland, beast. You are not welcome to take as you will." He tossed the jewels down the side of the mountain that had created them so long ago. No one was to have them--they belonged to Garland.
     Sword of swords had made his mark.

END