A Conflict Internal

Collin sailed slowly away from the catamaran, his thoughts burning and his stomach spinning.

"He deserves it! He deserves to get squashed and put out of his misery AND he deserves to let that bloody wicked push him under-foot."

The small vessel jerked unsteadily with each tack, much like each of Collin's thoughts.



"DUCK!"

A much younger, and slightly smaller Duck tackled the young goblin as a tree smashed where he'd only breaths earlier stood.

"Get off me ya goon! What kinda nerve's it take to go jumpin' a goblin? You must have a leak in your brain..." The goblin paused as Duck rose and brushed himself off. "Oi! You're one big crapper, aintcha."

Duck turned towards the felled tree.

"AY! Just cuz yer bigger'n an Omen don't mean ya can just turn yer back on me."

Duck removed his gigantic dwarven war-axe from the lumber. "I'm sorry."

Collin gulped. "No worries, friend. What's your name?"

"Duck."

The goblin threw himself to the ground and the half-titan/half-dwarf fell back laughing.

"That's a goblin quality trick, mister," he said dusting off his black vest, "I think we'll get along fine."



Collin heard the catamaran's weapons echoing off of the Omen's body. He tugged hard on the jib line and spun the wheel. "Stupid..."

The Line in the Sand

"Owlmhost theere," shouted Captain Wayland Dunes. His face was stretching back across his skull.

Duck stood silently at the bow. There, less than three miles from Groundbreak, the silhouette of the Omen approached. This Omen would easily stand a mile high. They'd be cutting this close. It's carapace glistened bronze in the once more rising sun. Palm trees rose like spikes from its hunched back. Sand rained down constantly from some unseen source. It had no eyes, only four dark caverns above a legion of razored mountains.

Duck leapt from the catamaran as Dunes dropped anchor. The cursed axe was flying through the air before Duck hit the ground. When he did land it was in a well-tucked roll that brought him up running after his weapon.

Dunes slammed his bony fist down on the helm-post. The tops of the two side-hulls blew off and massive pulse cannons rose from inside. They blasted a marching beat of elemental energy into the Omen. The Omen maintained its pace until the wicked Axe of Beckoning slammed into its thigh. The Omen, its gait forcibly altered, staggered. Duck was at its feet and threw himself full-force into the Omen's ankle with a shoulder tackle. It wasn't enough. Duck held on to the monster's foot and began to climb the bony shell towards his axe. Small pieces of debris from Dune's cannons and sand posed constant hinderances to his ascent. Still he climbed, praying that Dune's would be able to finish his role.

Mutiny?

After an hour of sailing Collin walked to the helm of the catamaran, to Captain Wayland Dunes. He stood a little over six man-feet high and, inside of his black, silk windbreaker, he appeared thin and unremarkable. He did, however, look like he was born to sail. As he stood behind the helm it was as though the ship were an extension of his being, responding to his every whim at the slightest inclination.

"Nay'e'er saen an Omen bayfore."

Collin halted. "I didn't ask if you had."

"Aye, butchu're gonna." The captain had an insidious grin on his pale, scruffy face.

"Maybe." Collin hopped up and sat on the railing around the helm. "So why'd you agree to take us out here?"

"Cos' I toldja, aint nay'e'er saen an Omen bayfore."

"Most folks who have are dead."

"Aye, awl boot de hairohs."

"So what's your business taking us out to the fight? Want your name on the partchments? Right there next to Duck and I? Next to Jack, next to the handful of people who fought for the whole body of the Sphere? You think sailing us out to die is gonna make you worthy of that?"

"Hold your tounge, Collin. Captain Dunes is nowhere near that petty." Duck said as he climbed up on deck. Wayland just focused on the sand.

"He's a merk captain, Duck. What do you mean he's not petty?" Collin said as he jumped down from his perch.

"Captain Wayland Dunes was sailing the Epiphony over Madsen Quary when the first Omen fell." Duck started.

"But that was over a hundred years ago!" Collin said incredulously.

"Aye. 'twere." Dunes added.

"Cappy aint over a hundred years old, Duck. Besides, Madsen Quary was a real ocean before the Omen."

"Aye. 'twere. Waite cops and daep bloose." Dunes had starting sinking into nostalgia.

"But the only way that he could've been there when the Omen fell and still sailing now would be..." Collin stopped himself, frozen by the realization. Then, snapping through the ice, he slung out an arrow and notched it in his bow, aiming straight down the bridge of Dune's nose. Duck grabbed the arrow as it left Collin's hand. Collin reached back for a second but found his quiver missing. He spun and fell back on his butt. There, with quiver in hand, stood the captain.

"Ye're a strainge on too bay fyring on mai, bruthair."

Duck stepped between them. "Listen, Collin, I know you're scared."

"Of course, I'm scared! You should be, too, Duck. I know you've been itching to find a way to die ever since you got freed from the curse but this is stupid. And having a dirty wicked behind the helm is just...stupid!"

"Listen, Collin..."

"NO! This is stupid!"

"Collin,"

"No, I'm not going to listen to..."

"COLLIN, SYLETIA AMON!"

Collin was stunned. He and Duck had been friends for longer than they could remember otherwise. It had actually been Collin who'd taught Duck the cursed language; the words that could manipulate goblin-kind. Never had Duck used it, even in battle against immeasurable depths of goblin-kind. Duck had claimed it was horrid to even think of using such a method. Now he'd used it on Collin.

"Collin, I need you to understand the gravity of this situation. There isn't time for us to wait for the others. If they are half as noble as they've been then we will meet them there, at the Omen's base. If not, then is it not still better to die in defense of the Sphere than at home in Red Leaf of old age and a bloated stomach? Collin, this is a desperate time. We were lucky before. This Omen is far worse. Captain Dunes is a good man. His body has been affected but his heart and mind are true. I need to know that you will work with me here. I need to know you will work with him. We don't have time for you two to develop a repor. You need to just move beyond it or you need to take this," Duck pulled out an ivory talisman, "and you need to go home. If that's where you feel you belong now then that's where you need to be. And Collin, I'm sorry. Palytoma Fori."

Collin snatched the talisman out of Duck hand and stood up to his full four feet.

"I can't believe, that after all we've been through, after... You really have changed, Duck. I can see it in your eyes, the desperation. You think this is a flaw in me? You think I'm scared? You think I want to run? Duck, it was wickeds that killed our families! Wickeds put you under that curse! Wickeds are what happen when the heroes FAIL! Look, Dune may be some kind of freak who managed to hold onto something during the Corruption but that could change! Dune, have you even been close to an Omen?"

"Nay, I..."

"Duck, you've seen wickeds near an Omen! They change...they become...more. If Dune does have something good going for him then how dare you put him in a place where he could lose it? You're not thinking, man! You're so wrapped up in this stupid pursuit of redemption that your putting everything at risk. Your life, MY LIFE! Man, I just wish I knew what to do."

"Coolyn, aye cawntakted Duke. thays bay mai deeseer. Rhedaympshoon."

"Great! I'm really pleased that you still have a since of justice and a desire for vengence but listen to yourself, Dunes. Duck, listen to him! He's losing control already. I'll go fight the Omen but not with a time bomb strapped to my chest! Pick, Duck."

"Collin, I understand your concern..."

"PICK, NOW!" Collin's eyes were fierce and betrayed his burdened heart. He and Duck had fought countless times against impossible odds and always somehow managed to come out alive and on top. Not always uninjured but always on top. This was a pivotal moment. Collin knew that death was coming but how would they face it? Together?

"I pick Dunes." Collin almost doubled over from the blow. "I know you don't understand, Collin. This is something he has to do and I will risk everything for him to have his chance."

"This isn't about him, Duck. It's still about you. It always has been."

"Cawlyn, aye..."

"Stow it, fleshbot. Duck, that wasn't your fault, just like it wasn't Dune's fault. If you people would just realize that then maybe the world wouldn't lose so many heroes."

Collin turned and jumped into a lifeboat. He took one of his hatchets and chopped the rope holding it off the sand. It dropped to the sand Collin immediately had it turning back towards Red Leaf.

"Ahm Shoraye." Dunes offered.

"Stow it. We have an enemy approaching that will show no room for sentimentality. This is the best possible outcome." Duck did not face the captain. As Collin disappeared on the golden horizon Duck whispered a silent prayer and bowed his head.

A Farewell to Red Leaf

The sun sank slowly behind the ebony mountains of Galla casting the crimson curtain which had given Red Leaf her name. Duck exited his home clad in the mahogany leather armor of his father's dwarven heritage. The Axe of Beckoning hung between his shoulders. Collin came running down the street, his quiver at his waist and his bow in his hand. His grey cape flapping in his wake.

"The local... militia... is prepared to... guard Red Leaf." Collin managed between gasps of air.

"Good," Duck responded. "I've arranged for a ship to take us as close to Windrush as Groundbreak."

"Groundbreak? Why Groundbreak?"

"Well, I couldn't find anyone to take us all the way to Windrush. The one captain I could find said Groundbreak would be good enough."

"Good enough for what?"

"Good enough to be line in the sand. One big enough for even an Omen to see."

"We're fighting the Omen?" Collin asked incredulous. "I thought we were defending Red Leaf!"

"Yes, Collin. We are defending Red Leaf, by going to fight the Omen."

"But, by 'we,' you mean just us? You and me?"

"Yes, Collin. You and I are going to fight the Omen."

"You know last time there were more than just two of us? You remember that, right?"

"Yes, Collin. Now quit whining. Our ship has arrived."

The catamaran slid gracefully into view and spun on its main hull, turning one-eighty and spraying the shore wall with sand as it stopped at the dock. Collin stood silently a moment as Duck walked past him toward the ship.

"Captain Wayland Dunes at yer sairvice." the lanky man said as he bowed, holding onto a stanchent with one hand and gripping a cutlass in the other. His eyes darted back and forth across the port. "Now, if ye'r not ova contrary mind I'd like to be leavin' as soon as soots ye...the sooner the baiter."

"We're ready now. Collin, are you coming?"

"Yeah, can't let you go get squashed without me."

The trio left the dock and sailed across an ocean of desert; a gift from the first Omen.

The Day of Third Omen

The Grandeur was a good ship. She sailed the sands like a hawkterrier through clouds and her captain, Gillespe Rounde, could think of no better life than to steer her over the dunes. That day, however, The Day of Third Omen, Captain Rounde wished he'd stayed at port.

"Duck! Duck, it's terrible! Oh, Duck, what are we going to do?" Collin was shouting from the depths of his little goblin soul as he pushed through the crowded streets.

"Whoa, calm down, Collin. What's the matter?" Duck rose from his stool outside of the Rotten Hagis Pub.

"The Grandeur never made port in Windrush. There's talk of Omens. There've been sightings of Wickeds. Duck, we're doomed!"

Duck ran his half titan hand through his jet black hair. His eyes still glowed red when his emotions grew stronger. His heart still yearned for destruction. He spit at the memory of the axe and its curse. But this wasn't a time for nostalgia.

"Collin, go home and prepare. If we're doomed then let's be ready to earn it."