Sweeping billows of fog blanket the boardwalk as I sprint onward. "Why is it always -" I wheeze out, "- such a pain. On my day off, every damn time."

I continue to run, using the lantern-lit city lights to help me discern the way through the twisting fog maze.

"Slow down lad!" A passerby yells as I accidentally knock him, nearly sending him tumbling into the filthy water below.

I gulp in a breath of air and manage a weak, "Sorry." Back in his direction as I keep running.

"Left of the Osella's tower, and follow the floating stairs onto the catwalk above," I mutter. Instructions repeating on loop to myself in time with my pounding footsteps on the cobbled street. "Left of the tower, follow the stairs. Left of the tower follow the stairs."

As I approach the inner city. I finally feel the resistance of the fog clear. There is a marketplace setup, not good. It's blocking the streets with shanty tents and wears that cling desperately to the support the ornamented walls provide.

I don't stop.

Up ahead I see the tower, floating webs of light spill out of it and stretch to separate ends of the city. Thankfully, the catwalk is in view - a hundred feet or so to the left.

I run up the stairs and feel them shift down on my weight. Send some inspectors to check this out later I mentally note. The last thing I need is another call because some tourist doesn't properly anchor themself and slips through.

I reach the top and finally see the subject of my call, a man clad head to toe in armor. He has adorned it with red ink and he sits across the railing with a small round snack in his hand.

"Sir, I am gonna have to ask you to remove yourself from the railing."

Oh, yeah sure. Was uncomfortable anyway, you know what you people should invest in?

"No, I'm sorry but -"

"Chairs, seriously I'm telling you."

"Noted."

"Do you people have chairs, I'm not seeing any up here."

"We don't allow people up here."

"That's a shame, you should get moving then. Actually, you look a bit out of breath, you need a second? Don't worry I'll give you a second. Ok, times up, where am I?

"Osella."

"Sounds great. You look like you need a chair."

"I don't."

"You sure."

"Alright, time to send you home."

This was gonna be a long day.

(PT II Soon. Sorry about the delay)

Frigid snow threatened to bury the warrior as he made his ascent. He was cold among other things and tired. Footfall by footfall though he continued, walking towards something he could not yet see, only hope.

"Reach the peak of the world and you will find salvation."The oracle's words rang in his ear. He remembered he had responded with anger against her look of pity, how could he not? He did not need to be saved, he was the greatest man to ever live: immortal, invincible, indestructible, and as he would slowly discover: infinite.

Each step brought him closer to his goal yet he could only reflect. So many lifetimes had he lived with nothing to show for it. His glories lay abandoned, passed to legend, or forgotten. His victories turned into defeats against the inescapable march of time. His memories became a curse that bound him as all those he shared them with withered away to leave only him, alone.

A gap in the blizzard gave him pause as he glimpsed a snowy clearing. He hurried his pace, crunching the snow against his feet as he stumbled forward. He saw a man standing vigilantly at the top of the world, where even the snow lay at bay.

The man wore only a shawl and light garments against the bitter cold. His hands held a mighty hammer but the warrior remained unsure whether it was he or the icy frost that held on.

"You have come, Timeless One," the man boomed across the clearing. "I trust you know what that means."

The warrior remained silent for a moment, his breath heating the frozen air near his face. "I do."

"Then let us begin."

The warrior raced forward, his stride deceptively fast as he barreled through the snow. When he was within range he swung his spear in a wide arc, the tip on course to slice his opponent's neck. The god for his part flew back, quickly exiting the range of the spear and swinging his hammer to compensate for the increased momentum.

The warrior spun throwing himself closer so that the hammer could not effectively strike him. His attacks were like lightning as the spear then blurred through the air cutting deep into the god's flesh.

"Impressive," the god muttered.

A metallic screech was the warrior's only warning to duck low as the war hammer sailed over him back into the god's grip. The boom radiating from the collision shattered a nearby wall of ice and sent cries of sound echoing down the sheer cliffs.

The god pushed his offensive swinging blow after blow of the heavy weapon with outstanding speed. Each of his strikes left indentations into the frozen stone and their spiderwebbing cracks turned their battlespace into an unstable and perilous arena.

"You don't speak as you fight Timeless One", he said in between blows. "Why?"

"War is not a game." He replied, jumping over and behind the god.

"For one such as you, it should be. You have no worries in your battles.

"It would be a slight to give anything less than my all to a worthy opponent. I do not disrespect those I fight." He followed up the statement by kicking up a footfall of snow forward his weapon hissing through the air as it followed suit. They both flew uselessly through empty space as the god had disappeared.

A sharp pain erupted in the warrior's side as he felt the god's kick catapult him into a nearby wall. He stood wincing at the new injury. "Your blows, they do not heal?"

"They do not."

Their battle raged on as they continued circling each other. They were almost equally matched but the tired warrior had never fought against a foe in which he did not heal and as time wore on he took blow, after blow, after blow.

After a full day, he fell, kneeling in the snow.

"Your journey ends now timeless one."

The warrior steadied himself and looked out at the sun that was rising slowly above the mountains. The last one he would ever see.

"Thank you."

Look man,It has to be excessive,cause I--

too hate that guy.

I thrust my sword at the metal beast and it holds still absorbing the attack. "You are a brave one," I commend. "Not many withstand the power of my blows."

The beast stares me down and I know it is a worthy challenge.

"You adorn yourself in armor so I know that you enjoy battle. For why else would one such as yourself mount so much precious metal to your frame." I add.

The beast merely growls. A subtle acknowledgment of my praise.

"Enguard." I leap at the creature and raise my sword high, bringing down a devasting blow against its head. Yet it blocks the attack with ease.

It laughs a burning laugh, taunting me. Suddenly it lurches forward and I jump to the side to avoid an earthen-smelling death. It circles again and I repeat the maneuver, but the beast is quick, this time I barely make it to my feet before it is at me again.

We repeat this dance, with me dealing superficial damage to the hull of the mighty leviathan and it struggling to deal with my steely resolve and quick wit.

Our battle spanned hours and dare I say was a legendary encounter, but, eventually, I feel the dregs of fatigue pulling heavily on my beautiful muscles. I drop my weapon and raise my hands, "I surrender to you great champion. Your tenacious strength is only matched by your determination. I concede."

I see the beast slow and it comes to a gentle stop in front of me. A merciful gesture. Suddenly, a deafening sound escapes the beast's obscured mouth and for a moment I think I was wrong that indeed it is nothing more than a simple animal. But as it remains there I realize it is not only offering mercy but friendship. It wants me to climb aboard, so I do.

Jumping onto the back of the creature, no, not creature, companion. I know we will make an excellent team.

The Shady Saloon

The cowboy enters the rowdy den. He's thirsty and looking for the kind of relief only a glass of lukewarm ale can provide.

"Howdy partner." he greets the bartender. "Hit me with the house special."

The bartender's head snaps to him, disbelief present in his eyes. "Duke! What brings you back round these parts? Haven't seen you in town since you drove off that gang of werewolves. Never got to thank you for that by the way, cost me a fortune in maintenance fees. "

"Don't mention it, pal. Just my job." He finishes the sentence with a quick spit of tobacco into the nearby tin, a brief tang audible as it connects.

"Well, I'll tell you what, drinks on the house tonight. We don't charge heroes round here."

Duke smiles. "Not a hero boss, but I can't say no to the generosity."

The bartender slides a glass down the bar where it slows to a stop in front of him.

"Cheers."

"Cheers."

The cowboy grabs the glass, takes a swig, and turns to survey the bar. It is par for the course, neat in a kind of disorderly way. Chairs and tables lay around haphazardly seating the town's residents and whichever poor travelers find themselves stuck for the night.

He takes his glass and begins to head to a table where a game of poker is in full swing when something catches his eye.

"Vanessa."

She scowls at him.

"Fancy meeting you here." He follows up.

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"I was expecting more of a hello, maybe a hi."

"There is no way you are here," she says to herself. "Why are you here?" This time addressing the cowboy.

"Heard reports of some vermin stalking the streets. Looks like my intel was right."

"Very funny. Don't you have some mangey mutts to be hunting right about now."

"Dealt with them the other week."

"Word on the street is they took you for a ride Duke. Took one of those pretty eyes of yours."

"I'll manage."

"Ri-iight." She says drawing out the word.

"You know the drill, Van. Can't have any wannabe supernaturals encroaching on my territory. I've got a reputation to uphold."

"Some reputation if werewolves aren't even considering it."

"And that means", he says ignoring her, "that I can't have no demons wandering in and stealing the souls of any of these good patrons tonight."

"You think you can stop me," she says.

"Of cou-"

He falls backward, narrowly avoiding the razor-sharp claws aimed straight at his neck.

"Last chance Van." He grunts, heaving himself up off the ground.

She smirks drawing a revolver and lighting up the piece of floor where he had just been standing.

He leaps to the left and aims at her, firing from his hip.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

The sounds of exploding glass echo throughout the room as the counter lights up in shrapnel.

The demon, having jumped behind the counter fires again, forcing Duke to lurch a table to it's side and dive behind it for cover.

"Sorry about this!" He hears her call out as the table is blown to shreds by an onslaught of bullets.

He feels stinging as clunks of lead diffuse against the hard leather of his jacket.

"Me too!" He replies ripping off his necklace and tossing it over the counter.

"You know that's not fair." Vanessa yells in response.

"Never said it was."

He pulls a glowing vial of water out of his jacket and hurls it in the same direction. After a loud splash there is nothing but a trail of smoke drifting out into the night.

He walks up to the bullet ridden counter and props up a damaged chair.

"Bartender... I'm gonna need another round."

Vibrant pastel flowers spread out in every direction. A fitting battlefield for the two combatants.

On the left a wizard, old and decrypt, who has forsaken the ways of the arcane in return for the mind-shattering powers of madness.

On the right stands a monkey.

"You mock me!" The wizard yells, looking to the sky. 'You provide me battle with an animal, and a stupid one at that."

I remain silent.

The wizard continues to glare but turns his gaze downward to look at the monkey, who to his credit is slowly peeling a banana.

The wizard sighs and draws his tome. He flips through the pages until he finds a spell that satisfies him. He chants in an ancient tongue for several seconds until he points his wand forward and fires a beam of the truly incomprehensible at the monkey.

The monkey parries it with the banana and sends the mighty spell into a cascading hill of flowers where it is totally and absolutely destroyed.

Then the monkey sprints forward vaulting and sliding under the madness of several eldritch blasts as he closes the distance between him and the wizard.

The wizard to his credit propels himself backwards through the air all the while summoning primordial tendrils that the monkey leaps, ducks, and slides over as he continues to approach him.

The monkey continues forward slacking, hacking or dodging the wizards attacks until at last he is within range.

"Nonsense." The wizard seethes. "What do you intend to to primate?"

The monkey smooshes the banana against the wizards dusty robes and snatches his spell-book from his hands.

He flips through the pages before uttering a single phrase, which annihilates the wizard entirely.

Then the monkey drops the tome, retrieves what is left of the banana and exits the battlefield to whatever adventures await him next.