# Darkness (The Last Crusade) ACTION



## Romero's Own (Apr 10, 2012)

*John 1.5 “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it*


Alexander smiled as he ran his hand through the leaves. He walked peacefully through the Vatican Gardens as the sun shone brightly down upon him. Alexander reached an old weathered bench and sat down to rest. His head fell back and he slept peacefully amongst the trees. As he lay back the sky slowly turned to orange as the sun sank down over the horizon. As the sun disappeared completely and the sky was lit only by a few rays of golden light Alexander woke form his sleep. He was startled at the arrival of night and leapt to his feet. He looked around quickly as the sky finally went dark and set off at a run towards San Pietro Church. As he ran he pulled back his cloak and unsheathed the two blessed short swords he always carried. He was at the great doors to the church when a cry rang out in the distance. Although far away the words were unmistakable’ "Incoming"

With that more voices rang out and from the distance came the distinct sound of gunfire. Alexander picked up his pace and pushed open the doors before entering the church. He paused for a second to pray to St Peter (whom the church was dedicated to) before running to where a group of priests like him and soldiers stood around a selection of monitors. As he approached one of the priests turned to him and after initial recognition gestured for Alexander to join him at the side. He whispered hurriedly to Alexander in a hushed voice.
“It’s a big attack. We have no idea where it came from and it seems as if the creatures have been planning it for a long time. We should be able to hold them but we are going to need all the help we can get. We need you out there right away. Good luck.”

With that the priest pushed Alexander forward and he set off for the huge main doors just as the tolling of mighty bells filled the church. Alexander knew that the bells would alert all Crusader’s, Prophet’s and Priest’s to the attack. Alexander was soon at the main gates but turned off to a reinforced side door. He unbolted it and pushed out into a warzone. Gunfire filled the air as the battle raged in the large plaza. Alexander quickly took in the details. The creature’s seemed to be organized, seemingly trying to push their way to the church. The Vatican forces had managed to set up a kind of barrier and were holding off the creatures well. Alexander quickly set off towards the front line of the conflict. As he ran a creature broke through the line and set off towards the church. With a fluidness of movement only achieved after years of training Alexander arm flicked as he sheathed his sword and let fly a knife with unerring accuracy. The creature turned slightly before the knife smacked into it’s chest. It hit the ground hard and didn’t get up. Alexander soon was at the front line. By now the noise was deafening Crusader’s fired in controlled and accurate bursts into the creatures. The Prophets weapon roared as well as their heavy weapons helped hold the Darkness at bay. And here and there a priest stood, screaming defiance and words form the bible as the blades flashed. Alexander looked around quickly before joining the line where it seemed weakest. His swords began to slice and slash as he cut down any of the Darkness that made it past the wall of gunfire. 

For many hours the Vatican forces fought bravely and in the name of God. Finally the sky began to light as the sun began to rise. One by one and then faster and faster the creatures disappeared back into the surrounding shadows and the Darkness. The forces of God had won and Alexander was exhausted. He staggered slightly as he strode over to the church and sat on the steps leading up to it. He looked around as the survivors mourned the body’s and prepared them for a burial where the Darkness could not claim them. As he rested a young messenger ran to Alexander’s side. After being beckoned to speak the boy relayed his message.

“The Clergy request your presence within Santa Marta. They say there is an important matter that requires seeing to"

Alexander nodded and replied wearily.

“I will be there in a while. But I must rest after the battle.

Ok. So that’s it. For your first post just fill in a bit. You will have taken part in the battle. How did you feel about it? Did you lose any friends? Where were you when it started? Did you get there early or late? Were you at all injured? You will have all received similar messages as the one Alexander received after the battle. How do you respond?

And the creatures look like this: http://www.ilikecomicstoo.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/priest-vampire.png


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## Malochai (May 27, 2012)

Mark grunted as he thrust his second sword through neck of the creature he was standing astride, his first already having pierced it’s gut. He twirled around on his heel, confronting a group of three, the bible chained to his belt slapping his right leg. He started quoting, the words forming a faint golden lattice around him - _’The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him.’_ He was stood, swords in the sheaths on his back, head bowed and hands pressed together.

Halfway through, the first creature hit it, bursting through, but the lattice grasped it and an unearthly shriek came from it’s mouth, cutting off in a gurgle that froze the soul of the unfaithful as it slumped to the ground. The other two creatures hit the lattice and, though they screamed in pain, they continued towards him, and in a smooth movement, he had spun on his heel in a perfect circle and drawn his swords, each one cutting deep into the flesh of the unholy things before him, sanctified blades flowing with blasphemous blood. 

As the dead, lifeless flesh fell before him, Mark looked up to see the last of the creatures falling, to the guns of the Prophets and Crusaders, and the blades of his fellow Priests. “Praise be to you,” he murmured in thanks to the Lord, fishing a scrap of black material out of one of his pouches to clean the blood from his blades and armour. 

Just to think, hours ago he’d been inside the church, knelt in prayer to the Lord, praying for peace, and hope, and life. And now this, to be surrounded by the dead, sacrilegious corpses of Darkness. Looking around the dead, he saw Priests he knew; all by name - John, Luke, Matthew. He silently prayed that the Lord would take their souls into his care, and made the symbol of the cross over his chest, bowing his head as he did so. They had been like brothers to him, but as soon as that thought crossed his mind he quashed it. _‘You cannot rely on anyone, Mark. You know that. Do not linger on the dead, and the past.’_ Even as he thought it, though, a memory flashed through his mind - _All Saints Church, Madeley. His parents dead, friends slaughtered. Blood pooled on the ground, congealing disgustingly. One of the creatures, the last one, approached him. Sobbing, he moved backwards, shuffling, until he hit the steps that let up to the altar. Stumbling, he twirled to catch himself and bruised his fist on the stone. Swearing loudly, and listening to the echo, he had almost forgotten about his adversary ... Almost. A snuffling reached his ears, and he felt anger boil in him. Grasping a crucifix from the alter, he span and rushed the creature, surprising it. As he spouted Bible verse, which created golden lines, forming from the cross into a net that appeared to flow around the beast. Repeatedly, he hammered the cross into the Dark creatures head, caving it in. And then the rest charged through the doors. Just as he had condemned himself to death, bullets tore through the air, and he saw human figures moving through the crowd. Hope rejuvenated, he charged again..._

The memory was interrupted as a messenger coughed discreetly. Opening his eyes, Mark looked at the child. _’So young,’_ he thought, sorrowfully, nodding. The messenger approached and, with a slightly scared look on his face, mumbled something. “Say it again, child, and do not be afraid. The battle is over,” he replied, soothingly. Seemingly a bit more comfortable, the messenger repeated his message - “Your presence is requested by the Clergy, Father. Inside the Santa Marta.”
“Thank you, child. Tell them I shall be inside momentarily,” the child nodded and ran off, leaving Mark alone, once again.

He sighed and stood, noticing a small cut on his leg that stung terribly. Shaking his head, he took his vial of Holy Water and emptied a bit onto his palm, before cleansing the wound with it. Dog-tired, he made his way to the Santa Marta, blades sheathed and head bowed in thought. _‘Lord protect us all in these dark days._


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## Karak The Unfaithful (Feb 13, 2011)

Lajos discarded an empty magazine from his weapon, it fell to the floor and landed in a small pool of dark blood. All around him were used shells, fired off by his light machine gun. He replaced the magazine with a fresh one.

He stood with another group of crusaders, each discarded their own magazines from their own weapons, a vareity of machineguns, assault rifles and other automatic weapons.

Lajos had nothing to say, no bible passages, no holy or inspiring words, years ago he would have, and it would have been amazing, the men around him would have been greatful for it, very greatful. But now, nothing. He felt hollow, detached, these days it was all about keeping alive for that day, and then the next day it would be the same thing. day to day, week to week, month to month, year to year... a desprate struggle for survival.

He looked towards his fellow crusaders, he nodded at them, they nodded back, they had no words either.

Lajos saw a small child, who had been talking to one of priests, run up to him: "Your presence is requested by the Clergy in Santa Maria, Sir" he said.

"Thank you child, I will be their shortly" he replied

Lajos lowered his weapon fully, and began to lumber up to Santa Maria in his heavy armour.


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## HOGGLORD (Jan 25, 2012)

"Burn Daemon!" Cried Pater Redemptor, _Flamma Domini_ sending arcs of fire across the creatures charging towards him. The beasts screamed and twisted away from the searing gouts of flame. 

A still burning beast leapt towards him, claws extended and flesh burning. Pater Redemptor swung the barrel of _Flamma Domini_ into it's head, sending it sprawling backwards, he then drew his revolver, unloading two rounds into the sinful beast's head. He turned back to the hoards, almost disappointed to see the pitifully few survivors scampering away into the distance.
Seeing this, he opened his well thumbed Bible and spoke, his voice carrying across the now silent battlefield

"As the Lord said in Corinthians 4:16-18, "_So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal._

Pater Redemptor heard approaching footsteps and turned around, seeing a young messenger jogging up to him.
"Pater." He said breathlessly, using Pater Redemptor's chosen title, "Your presence has been requested in the Santa Maria Clergy."

Pater Redemptor nodded and began to stride towards the towering arches and walls of Santa Maria.


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