The Freedom Stone

While Anya spent much of the day teaching the local bartender new cooking techniques, Jalmar wandered out of the tavern. The Marukani town was no more than a dozen buildings, surrounded by free-roaming herds of horses on all sides. Each beast was in fine shape and the locals probably kept them around the town to act as both warning and defense against attack. Something to the north of the town was spooking the horses, and Jalmar walked over to investigate. Some distance away from the village, a large band of soldiers was marching closer. They carried banners of Imperial houses, most notably Ledaal. Jalmar recognized the formation as a scout patrol. There would be 25 men in the unit, all armed for war. Their presence here meant one of two things: either they were on a routine patrol, or they were searching the area for an anathema. Jalmar was betting on the latter, an waited a short distance away from the town. When the soldiers arrived, they immediately recognized Jalmar’s description and drew their weapons. Many people in Chiaroscuro had seen Jalmar in battle, and passed his description on to Imperial agents. Jalmar had bet correctly on their intent.

None of the soldiers saw him move. Jalmar crashed straight into the center of the unit and scattered a dozen of them with one blow. The shockwave knocked the soldiers into their peers, except for the poor man who was struck. Hs thick leather jacket, reinforced by small metal plates, tore itself to shreds from the force of Jalmar’s attack. His sword flew from his hands, and landed point-down into the earth a hundred feet away. Jalmar’s fist crushed into the man’s chest with a spray of blood, and punched straight through his sternum until it reached the heart. Jalmar opened his fist and grabbed hold of the soldier’s beating heart. With one tug he ripped the organ free of the imploded chest, and then slammed it to the ground. It splattered against the packed earth and Jalmar’s lower legs. The soldier’s formed a ring around Jalmar with their swords and spears drawn. As Jalmar looked out at the rest of the unit, all warmth and compassion drained from his expression until only a cold malice was left behind.

Effortlessly, Jalmar sprung over and grabbed a soldier by the throat. She gasped for air and dropped her weapon. Both her hands grabbed at Jalmar’s wrist, but she could not break free. The woman kicked feebly at Jalmar as he lifted her off the ground by her neck. Jalmar tensed his hand, and sunk his fingers into the side of her windpipe. She managed a high squealing cry, not much loader than a whisper, as she heard her own throat being crushed from within. In an instant she went limp, and Jalmar looked to both sides. Half the unit had moved during the second he spent killing the soldier, and was flanking Jalmar. They lunged with their swords outstretched toward the anathema, but were knocked back when the dead woman was swung as a weapon in two quick arcs across their formation. Jalmar then hurled the corpse from his hand into one side of the scout unit, and turned on the other half.

From a distance, all anyone would be able to see was a blur of motion and erupting sprays of blood. Jalmar rushed through the crowd with his steel-hard fists ripping through armor and flesh like the claws of a rabid beast. When he stopped, fifteen soldiers fell dead and shattered where they had stood. He looked back in time to see the last of the soldiers rushing him. They dove in a large pile atop Jalmar, and tried to hold him down with their combined weight. Spears of golden light shot from between the soldiers, then they were blasted off Jalmar and scattered across the plains. He rose, wrapped in angrily rippling gold light, and pounced on the nearest soldier before the young man could stand. The youthful soldier screamed in horror as he stared up at what he had been taught was the face of ultimate evil. Jalmar rained down punches like rain falling in a monsoon. Each blow struck a different part of the soldier until only a crimson mud of bone shards and pulverized flesh remained, wrapped in the remnants of armor.

The other soldiers had regained their footing, and began to withdraw. Jalmar dove high into the air, then descended toward the fleeing soldiers. He landed just as he slammed both fists against the ground. The remaining five soldiers were hurled upward, and only one landed alive. Jalmar reached out and snapped the necks of the other four soldiers as they fell, his hands faster than a striking snake. The last soldier landed flat on his back, and coughed out a small amount of blood. Jalmar stood over the terrified young woman, then bent down to pick up an Imperial standard next to her. He lifted the flag, then planted it directly through her stomach. She tensed, then fell limp with the banner of House Ledaal flapping in the wind over her body. By then, several citizens of the Marukani village had made their way over, having heard the commotion very clearly. They asked Jalmar what happened.

In a pitiless voice he replied, “I was bored.”

Nizkateth wrote:

Jalmar tensed his hand, and sunk his fingers into the side of her windpipe. She managed a high squealing cry, not much loader than a whisper, as she heard her own throat being crushed from within

[Brock Samson] Push the button, turn the handle... [/Brock Samson]

Dinosaur wrote:

[Brock Samson] Push the button, turn the handle... [/Brock Samson]

Yes!
That is absolutely correct!

Just because he's bored?

Each chapter and he becomes less and less moral.
In the beginning, he was searching fore gREAT JUSTICE!

Now he kills people on a whim.

Go, Dragon-Blooded, Go! Kill the Anathema!

Legendary Mumbler wrote:

Just because he's bored?

Each chapter and he becomes less and less moral.

Says the Psychopath Abyssal . . .

Im guessing he reached his Limit Break, anyways, he is one solar I wouldnt mind seeing dead.

Elric wrote:

Says the Psychopath Abyssal . . .

I started off amoral, and I shall continue that way.
Gorram it, my intentions were NEVER good.

*Throws thirteen knives at your head.*

Legendary Mumbler wrote:

Just because he's bored?

Each chapter and he becomes less and less moral.
In the beginning, he was searching fore gREAT JUSTICE!

Now he kills people on a whim.

Go, Dragon-Blooded, Go! Kill the Anathema!

I think he's limitbreaking again...

Jeez, even Prophet (as an Abyssal) was nicer about killing people...and Mumbler read the overly-long description I wrote of Prophet assaulting a training-base for the Wyld Hunt and ripping everyone inside to shreds.

Lord Leafar wrote:

Im guessing he reached his Limit Break, anyways, he is one solar I wouldnt mind seeing dead.

I know the Realm is egalitarian and all...but I just couldn't bring myself to slaughter young, terrified women that way, even if they were enemy soldiers.

If anyone is willing to kill,
then they should be prepared to be killed.

But you are right, it does seem to be a waste of a perfectly good female.

And that is exactly why I randomly make some enemies female. For some reason, people have a more severe reaction. ^_^
Even though the Realm has women in higher authority (slightly) then men, and around half of any given legion is women, a woman getting quickly crushed to death provokes more reaction than a young man being pounded into paste inside his own armor.

Love it!

(oh, and yes he's in limit. Realizing that he was abouit to be discovered by the imperial army, even if just because their scouts didn't come back, counted as 'in dire straits' for deliberate cruelty)

Shards of Obsidian wrote:

If anyone is willing to kill,
then they should be prepared to be killed.

But you are right, it does seem to be a waste of a perfectly good female.

Well...it depends on the female. For instance, if it HAD to be done, I could probably bring myself to kill the Roseblack, or Mnemon (no, I'm not going to kill either of them, calm down). Neither of them would be afraid, they would be cursing my name in their badass fury as they died. On the other hand, a terrified, helpless, crying female...I'd grant mercy. Then again, now that I'm Redeemed, I grant mercy to anyone THAT scared and blubbering and helpless.

Bladestorm wrote:

Shards of Obsidian wrote:

If anyone is willing to kill,
then they should be prepared to be killed.

But you are right, it does seem to be a waste of a perfectly good female.

Well...it depends on the female. For instance, if it HAD to be done, I could probably bring myself to kill the Roseblack, or Mnemon (no, I'm not going to kill either of them, calm down). Neither of them would be afraid, they would be cursing my name in their badass fury as they died. On the other hand, a terrified, helpless, crying female...I'd grant mercy. Then again, now that I'm Redeemed, I grant mercy to anyone THAT scared and blubbering and helpless.

Helpless? She had a fucking sword. That's far from helpless(In normal circumstances). She was trained to fight, and if given the chance, would have KILLED our intrepid hero. Therefore: NOT HELPLESS.

Chauvinist.

Valheru wrote:

Bladestorm wrote:

Shards of Obsidian wrote:

If anyone is willing to kill,
then they should be prepared to be killed.

But you are right, it does seem to be a waste of a perfectly good female.

Well...it depends on the female. For instance, if it HAD to be done, I could probably bring myself to kill the Roseblack, or Mnemon (no, I'm not going to kill either of them, calm down). Neither of them would be afraid, they would be cursing my name in their badass fury as they died. On the other hand, a terrified, helpless, crying female...I'd grant mercy. Then again, now that I'm Redeemed, I grant mercy to anyone THAT scared and blubbering and helpless.

Helpless? She had a fucking sword. That's far from helpless(In normal circumstances). She was trained to fight, and if given the chance, would have KILLED our intrepid hero. Therefore: NOT HELPLESS.

Chauvinist.

Swords don't work against Jalmar. Besides, she had no idea what she was getting herself into, did she? Anathema, yes, but Jalmar is far more than your average Anathema.

Bladestorm wrote:

I know the Realm is egalitarian and all...but I just couldn't bring myself to slaughter young, terrified women that way, even if they were enemy soldiers.

The backstory of Roy Mustang suggests that this is a great way to get shot.

Dinosaur wrote:

Bladestorm wrote:

I know the Realm is egalitarian and all...but I just couldn't bring myself to slaughter young, terrified women that way, even if they were enemy soldiers.

The backstory of Roy Mustang suggests that this is a great way to get shot.

Roy's backstory included a kid, a male (though that's irrelevant), and that kid had a gun. Helpless means "not a threat". Guns are threatening!

Bladestorm wrote:

Roy's backstory included a kid, a male (though that's irrelevant), and that kid had a gun. Helpless means "not a threat". Guns are threatening!

As are swords. Or slings. The kid was frightened but eventually moved to fire at him, prompting Roy to incinerate him. How is this different than someone who is afraid of the Anathema but willing to stab them if their guard is let down, on account of being Immaculately brainwashed?

Bladestorm wrote:

On the other hand, a terrified, helpless, crying female...I'd grant mercy.

Wuss.

Never play "evil" around me. I'll eat you alive.

Lady Aiaru wrote:

Bladestorm wrote:

On the other hand, a terrified, helpless, crying female...I'd grant mercy.

Wuss.

Never play "evil" around me. I'll eat you alive.

I'm Redeemed now, remember?

Besides, it's far cooler to just arrogantly walk away, leaving the lone survivor to report to her superiors. It may seem stupid, but once you reach a certain level of Badass, you can do that without fear.

On the other hand, if I granted someone mercy...and they threw a knife at my back as soon as it was turned...I would feel obligated to kill them.