The sun was beginning to set over the druid enclave, and nothing stirred save the scavengers already descending upon the gory display. Hero, the young druid wolf skidded to a stop and stared, not understanding what he was seeing. Chunks of flesh and meat lay around as if a dragon had exploded from eating a hedgeboom.

It wasn't until he picked up the scent of Master Hawkwolfe's robes, that he came to realize the slaughter wasn't of a dragon accidentally swallowing an gasfilled rodent. What he stood before had once been his tribe.

"No..." Hero whimpered. "Master Hawkwolfe... Sister Norseshire! Brother Bullypig!"

The druid rushed towards the nearest pack of scavenger birds and snapped his jaws, barking and snarling. One by one, he chased off the birds, who just landed again once he'd left their spot.

"Who did this?" Hero finally stopped and whispered, hanging his head.

With everything within his soul, he swung his head up and gave a mournful howl.

The birds all turned to look, for even they felt the pain of the young druid. Each bird lifted their own heads and gave their best impressions of a howling wolf; which came out more like a dying one. Still, the animals cried together, for many long moments.

After having his throat go dry and sore, he lowered his head once again, and the tears began to fall.

"Who did this?" Hero whispered again. He closed his eyes and sniffed the ground. There was a definite scent—One that he'd never smelled before.

"Who...?" Hero said, turning and looking back towards the mountain pass. The trail led that way. But something confused him, why had he not seen the killer in the Sencian Fields? Could it fly? Or even blink from one place to another?

No matter what the answer, Hero was going to find them. And demand to know why they killed his peaceful desert tribe. And why he or she deserved to live.

***

Angon stared with a certain level of incredulous. His father could make him alive again? How was it possible? And what did it entail. He knew he would do anything to become fleshy, skinny, and meaty. He wanted nothing more. Then Lavina would realize feelings for him! Then all would be made right.

Azteron's hand snapped out and grabbed Angon's wrist.

"But I warn you, it will not be easy. And you haven't much time." The minotaur man said.

"Why don't I have much time?" Angon asked, not understanding.

"I'm old, my son." Azteron said. "I had slumbered here until you arrived just now. How long has it even been? I cannot be sure. But I know my time is long past overdue; and when I die, those evil beings calling themselves gods will get my soul."

"So, everyone will eventually be old!" Angon shrugged. "Why does that mean you are to die?"

"You don't understand the world and how it works, I'm assuming." Azteron said. "That part of you was lost as well, I see..."

"Yes, Father," Angon whispered.

"You see, when people get old, they die," the minotaur said. "But not you. You will live forever."

"W-What?" Angon stammered. "Why do others die? I don't want to live if those I love die!"

"Then I will tell you how we will return you to your mortal body." Azteron said.

From across the room, Ramona took a step forward, barely able to contain herself. It was all so sad; overwhelming even. But as soon as her foot touched down, the blind minotaur's head snapped to look.

"It's here!" He hissed. "What are you doing here? I order you to leave!"

"What are you talking about?" Angon screwed up his face in confusion.

Ramona looked around at the others and shrugged, just as confused as the forge.

Azteron shook his head. "I sense its power. But in fact... it's exactly what we need."

"What's power?" Angon asked.

"The power of Soul Rupture, the weapon that contains within it the power that transformed you into what you are now. A weapon, as well." The minotaur whispered.

Angon looked back at the group, and they could only stare.

"What do we do with it?" Angon said, running his hand over the minotaur's face.

"Take it—" Azteron coughed, and wheezed. "To the Mountain of Creation; Mount Chronos."

"That be to the west." Buster muttered with this hand to his hand to his chin, although no one was listening to him.

"Then what?" Angon asked. "Please tell me. I'll come back and—"

Azteron burst into a coughing fit, and fell into Angon's arms. The forge hugged him until his hacking stopped.

The minotaur artificer continued, "At Mount Chronos, there is a forge; one said to have forged the very first creatures of Anhsook Del Iris. I always thought that it was a legend, but then I stole from it the Philosopher's Stone.

But don't let me get off subject." He coughed again. "You must place a magic weapon at the forge onto the anvil there, and then place Soul Rupture. The two will combine to create a great new weapon. Bring it to me and I will use it to return you to mortality."

"Okay." Angon said. "I understand all of it."

Angon stood to leave, but Azteron still gripped his wrist. "There is one final thing I must warn you of."

"What is it?" The forge looked down, already filled with purpose for a new life.

"If you choose to become mortal again, there will be no one left capable of battling the gods."

It was as if his father had just smacked him with a brick of iron. Angon felt a level of guilt build up inside of him. If he chose to be alive, then the evil gods would reign. But why was it his problem? He hadn't asked to be a weapon.

The forge shook away the thoughts. This was his life, and he planned to live it as he saw fit. He was no weapon; no tool of destiny!

A slow clapping came from the back of the church. Angon lifted his head and stared at who of his friends would dare be so rude. But his friends were all turning as well, and leaping back, drawing their weapons.

Standing in the entrance of the church, with the doors shut behind her was none other than the orcess assassin, Gonzeelda.

"What are you doing here?" Angon asked, stepping towards her, ready to finish the fight.

"I came to see a touching reunion between a father and son." Gonzeelda grinned from ear to ear.

"What have ye got up yer sleeve?" Buster snapped, taking Hellsmasher in hand.

"Nothing, really." She shrugged, tugging at the sleeves of her cold weather shirt. "I am but here to issue a challenge."

"And that is?" Gavin asked, bow aimed straight at Gonzeelda; she was at point blank range and would have no time to dodge.

At that moment a blast of power burst through the room like an invisible wave. The very force shook the doors as if a battering ram was trying to gain entry.

"What the heck?" Ramona cried, scrambling away, while Lavina screeched and covered her mouth.

Gonzeelda couldn't help but laugh, and said, "Homunculus, or forge, or A.N.G.O.N., whatever you like to be called; Come out and duel Gus, the Walking God. If you win, you keep Soul Rupture, and all of your lives."

"And if I lose?" Angon balled his hands into fists.

"Then you end up like those poor druids."

A new blast of energies were sent through the room. This time it was a striking sting of horror. The druids were dead. Everyone's eyes went wide.

"Lies!" Lavina cried. "You couldn't have killed them! They were too powerful! One of the four balancing tribes of nature!"

"And they're dead." Gonzeelda said casually, twirling a finger through a lock of hair.

Azteron grabbed Angon's hand and whispered so the forge had to lean down to hear, "My son, go. You can defeat Gus. I saw him in battle. You have power greater than his own."

With determination, Angon walked forward and stopped at Buster. The dwarf looked up at the eight foot tall homunculus and nodded. "Aye, take Hellsmasher. Yer gonna need it."

"Thank you." Angon said, and walked towards the door.

Lavina leaped in front of him. "Wait!"

"What?" Angon asked, his face cold with anger and hatred towards the being that had killed the druids.

"Don't!" She said. "Ramona will just hand over Soul Rupture. Your life isn't worth this."

"The funny thing... I think it is." Angon said. He bent down and hugged Lavina with one arm, then moved her aside with little effort.

She started to cry after him, but Gavin held her back. Following Gonzeelda, Angon went outside into the cold snow. And his friends all joined just outside the church. They needed to see the fight, even if they already knew how it was going to end.

Three orcs were waiting. One huge nine foot tall warrior in armor, and Budge and Weiggs.

"Gus?" Angon whispered, his knees nearly buckling at the power the creature emanated.

"So you are the one known as the homunculus." Gus spoke, staring calmly at Angon.

"His name is Angon!" Lavina shouted.

The large orc turned to stare at the miniscule half-elf girl.

Angon hadn't noticed it before, but a small blue-skinned child sat atop Gus' shoulder.

"Put the girl down, and we will fight." Angon said.

Gus cocked his head. "But you do not have Soul Rupture."

"I represent the one who does." Angon narrowed his eyes.

The huge orc shook his head. "You sign your own death warrant."

"I died once already..." Angon said. "It isn't so bad."

Gus reached up and pulled Tricia down, handing her again to Weiggs. "Take the girl."

Weiggs grumbled and kicked a rock. He took Tricia and hobbled off to the wall of the church.

"You stay out of this, too." Gus told Budge.

The orc nodded, and hurried to his brother's side.

Angon held the large hammer to the side as Gus started to reach for his giant axe. But then he stopped and shook his head.

"I won't need this." He muttered. "Your stance tells me you know little of battle. This will be quick."

Angon charged forward almost as fast as a flicker of light. He shoulder charged Gus. The attack hit and pushed the giant back a step. But he shoved Angon's shoulder, sending him back several.

"Is that all you can do?" Gus asked, seeming bored.

With a roar, Angon swung the hammer sidelong, and Gus lifted his arm to block.

A great boom rang out and the warrior's armor dented in. Gus cocked his head and looked down at the ruined armor.

"What is this weapon?" Gus asked.

Buster felt compelled to shout, "It be me Hellsmasher! It was a gift long ago by me goddess Sheeva."

"And that weakling is dead." Gus nodded. "So this weapon cannot defeat me."

Buster growled and clenched his fists. "Kick his arse to the abyss and back, Angon!"

Angon, on cue, brought back the hammer, spinning and strike at Gus' other side. He dodged grabbed at the head of the gammer, but Angon switched his footing and brought the hammer within an inch of the orc's chest. He continued his spin, building momentum, and struck Gus right in the side.

The orc grunted and stepped back a few feet. Angon took the opportunity to bring the hammer back and over his head. The Hellsmasher glowed red just like when Angon killed the dragon. With all his strength, the forge leaped into the air and brought the weapon of Sheeva down upon the head of the Walking God.