This forest, which was once brimming with life, now fills one’s nose with the stenches of death. It is still within the protective barrier, but father wouldn’t be please to hear that the twins have been out here in the wild. One lash, two perhaps, or maybe even three. It doesn’t matter, father could never bring himself to put any strength behind his swings, mother on the other hand, that would hurt. But the twins continue to prance about, so what if some raiders’ shaman cursed the place with his dark magic? This forest has always been and will continue to be their playground!

Hoping over a fallen tree, covered in gunk, the twins feel like weeping for their secret corner of the world destroyed, perverted. They wonder if that was how everyone felt a century ago, when the world was forever transformed by that unknown cataclysm brought forth by the mages of old.

“Those stupid raiders!” The boy, younger of the two, throws a rock at a tree. It pierces through the bark to reveal the inside, all rotted away.

The twins rush away, fearing that the tree would fall down onto their little form. Hiding behind a mouldy boulder, they poke their heads up, clear blues eyes surveying the area. Their hands hovering above the dirty surface.

“Phew” The twins both breathed out signs of relief. They aren’t going to be crushed today. It’s not like the hollow tree could even do any harm. What a shame, it was once a mighty oak, now reduced to nothing by vile curses.

“Looks!” The little boy pulls on his sibling sleeve.

From above, they could spot something freefalling. It must be a bird to get that high, a very human looking bird. Or maybe it is just a simple human.

The person, donning a brown duster with a strange looking wide-brim hat, falls through the barrier but the left arm is stuck behind. Pulled down by a supernatural force, the hand is ripped opened as two small items slides out along the barrier dome. This mysterious person pummels down with breakneck speed, as if they have a tryst with the empty ground.

In a futile effort, the fallen person throws out a lasso to catch a branch with perfect precision. But the part, while looking so strong and tough, snaps emptily. The Stranger slams at the ground with a thundering thud, unmoving, definitely dead.

“Is that person dead?” Asked the younger twin. The girl hops over near the impact point only to be taken aback by quite a sign.

People, raiders line the outside of the barrier, there are seven of them in total. Their tattered attires are now adorned with pieces of sparkling steel armours. Those are only for show, however, as they barely cover the lowlifes’ body.

“Get back! Get back now! You can’t come any further” The girl backs off, her brother is coming up from behind her.

In this shattered world, raiders are a common sight, especially in unpopulated areas. Fuelled by a primal desire to live, they would raid villages and settlements, committing heinous crimes without a second thought. Each significant gang tend to have a quirk, a tradition they call it. This particular group belong to the Fisherman, forged along the uninhabitable shores muddied with the unknowns.

The seven raiders put up their hands, touching the barrier, fear in their eyes. But why, what do they have to be afraid of, this protection spell is harmless.

One of them, with crab legs jam into his chin like a beard, pulls something from behind his back. It is one of his two spears, the Fisherman’s main weapon. But this one has strange rune lining all over. It isn’t the one the twins saw on their father’s magical artefacts.

The raider jams the spear into the barrier and with a dry noise, the weapon breaks apart. Black sludge with strange pale bits of the sea pour out of it, crab-chin recoils back screeching like a maiden, trying not to touch the vile contents of his spear. The little bits, small strange looking creatures screech out a deep and unknown call before simply dropping down.

Everyone looks on, but the strange beings are simply dead. “Come on, do something”, one of them said, contemplating whether to poke these things. Nothing continues to happen, Crab-chin just makes a fool of himself. Sensing that, the others yell threats at the twins, covering for their friend.

Soon, cracks soon appear along the barrier and a small chunk is broken off.

“Thank Scy’lla” Crab-chin said, his eyes lighting up “It seem we will have fresh meats tonight, my fellows y’llas”

“Good, I am getting tired of seafoods, they keep on messing with my digestive system. Unless it’s clams, I like clams” Another chimed in, half of the skin on his face was replaced by old fish scales. Raiders are not known to be able to communicate coherently. But this particularly band is unnecessary well-spoken.

“NO”

The twins yell out. How could this be, their father’s barrier is supposed to be impenetrable. How could these lowlifes break it open like that? What kind of foul magic did they use?

Now isn’t the time to think about that, however. The twins try to run but there is no escape from the raiders. One of the Fisherman’s signature item is a large malformed fish hook, which they use with great effect to capture their preys. One of them, fish-face, demonstrate that skill beautifully, the line flies true. Only one is enough, the other sibling won’t leave their flesh and blood behind easily, plenty of time for them to catch up.

Fortunately, a rock has tripped the boy, knocking him to the ground narrowly dodging the hook and certain doom.

But it is no coincident. No, that rock was flung by the smashed Stranger, quite some wrist strength there. The raider nearby draws out his spear bellowing out longest war cry “Dies thing that should be dead!”. The Stranger draws a metallic item and from it comes a thunderous noise like the storm god slamming his door angrily. The raider face is blasted off, he hops back and drops dead, “O the humanity”, those were his last words.

Jumping to their feet, the Stranger is still mangled, left arm a wreck, half of their face got pushed into the other side. A normal person is definitely dead by now.

Grunting, the Stranger left arm somehow snaps back into place sloppily, the hand is still all messed up. The raiders draw out their spears and hook but the Stranger is faster. Slamming their left-hand bone on a metal part jutting out of the strange weapon, right finger presses rapidly on a trigger. Five bursts of flame shot out roaring, the carnage follows right after.

Four of the raiders are hit, all in vital points, they die instantly. Fish-face, however, swings his hook just in time to divert the final shot, which takes a chunk of the empty husk of a tree nearby. The attack is followed right up by crab-chin, which throws a spear that pierces right through the Stranger throat, now they are definitely dead. As a final note, the damaged hollow tree collapses upon the person fallen form.

The twins try to run away during the mayhem, but fish-face has jumped on them. He is quite adept at multi-tasking. The raider grabs the brother, spear pressed on the child’s cheek.

“Every step you take, I will give him a cut” He said with a wide grimace. The little girl couldn’t move, she stands there shivering at what await.

Meanwhile, crab-chin approaches the fallen tree to retrieve his spear and to check on the Stranger’s weapons. His sharp eyes noticed that every time the thing spitted fire, a cylinder in the middle was moved by about the sixth of the diameter. So it can be used six times, or could the thing just spins again and again. Nevertheless, he is curious about the weapon.

He approaches the target, dry leaves crush beneath his footstep. The dry tree burst open into pieces, from it comes the Stranger, their back toward crab-chin.

‘How could this be!’ The raider is stunned by what is going on in front of him. Despite their savagery, the lowlifes of the world, especially those in a gang, are quite well verse in anatomy. How to kill their targets most efficiently or neutralise them without damaging the meat too much, then the special torture without killing. There are plenty of reasons why such a knowledge is useful, and they all have plenty of practice on ‘willing’ specimen.

Even if this wound doesn’t kill the target, it should shatter the spine, cutting the connection between the head and the body. This doesn’t make sense, his experience as a practitioner of magic from a time long past told him so. ‘Oh wait’, crab-chin finally realises the futility of applying common sense to this situation.

Before the raider could muster any effort, the Stranger jumps back at him. The spear, still through the throat pierces its owner straight at the heart.

Pulling their neck out, the Stranger throws their lasso at fish-face, spear already in hand. The older twin, however, tackles the raider leg, knocking him of balance. Before he can deliver a brutal in retaliation, the rope is already around his neck.

The Stranger tries to swing the lasso around a tree to hang the raider but the tough looking branch just snaps.

Sensing an opening, fish-face escapes from his bound, picks up his spear and bellows.

“FOR MY FRIENDS, I WILL CUT YOU UP IN PIECES AND OFFER THEM TO SCY’LLA” Immortal or not, he will have his vengeance. He will eat this person, piece by piece by piece and he will enjoy every bite.

Fish-face leaps at the enemy, knowing that they can’t escape with those busted legs that could barely stand. But with that move, the raider has sealed his demise.

The Stranger pulls the spear out of crab-chin body and flings it at his still alive comrade.

“THIS IS CHILD PLAY!”

Screaming from the top of his lungs, fish-face reaches out to grab the incoming spear. Even while mid-air, this is still a simple matter. But at the last moment, something tugs at his leg. The Stranger already has their lasso around his limb. With one slight pull, the raider misses his grab and the spear, accessorised with crab legs, runs through his throat.

The twins watch over the Stranger, holding onto one another. Will this person be their friend or foe, they are too scared to run. The two would pray if they know any of the gods once thought to protect this land.

The Stranger looks up and what greets the twins is rather… pleasant.

Face no longer smashed up, in front of them is a young ginger woman with short wavy hair and light freckles. But most curiously are what lie in her two head sockets, something there are lacking, something essential. These deep black eyes have no irises.

The Stranger tips her hat “Howdy” She greets them.

Her head continues to tilt downward more and more until she falls over face first into the ground. Among the crunchy sounds of dry leaves hide one of broken nose. The twins watch the Stranger continues to lie there. They wait, then wait for some more then a bit more of waiting but nothing happens.

The older twin takes a spear from one of the dead raiders to poke at the mysterious woman, he could see that her duster is quite thick. Meanwhile, the younger decides to take a closer look, but not too close. She notices the Stranger’s stranger weapon has fallen out of her side holster. A foreign item indeed, on the long metallic tube the little girl could make out a carving, CLAYTON. Is it the Stranger’s name she wonders?

Her brother is back and so the little girl retreats back to his side. Using the spear, they poke at the woman but there is no response.

“Is she dead?” The twins wondered in unison.