Unfinished Business

Amongst the dusty sands of Farah’deen brushing against the Bedouin-styled attire for The Mechanical Monstrosity, Rhys was led to a small area of ruin. A place that held memories of a choice he’s made that even he still questions the morality of. Stepping into the broken shambles of his former caravan, Rhys walked atop one of the few decayed skulls that still lingered there, no remorse as he kneeled down to wreckage. Wooden planks scattered about with a charred exterior amongst the majority of the scattered oak. He kept his eyes locked on it, within his tech form as he never expected to see the wreckage ever again.

“I’m sorry.” Rhys spoke to the broken parts, though a figure approached over from behind.


“You should be, after what you’ve done… You’ve torn our family apart.” They replied.

“I did what I had to.” Rhys spoke, though a lingering guilt resided from within.


“<F> Does that explain your decision on what you are, Junkleech?”


Rhys took a stand, turning his head to face whom it was. A young man, with the eyes a purple hue and his hands holding a great sword of a clocktik design out to Rhys. Brown skin similar to Rhys himself. Though, he was notably shorter than Rhys, only reaching the height of 5’8. In a stance with utter apathy for Rhys, almost as if they had put blame into the hybrid of man and machine.


“<F> It’s a gift.”

“<F> A gift? You look cursed brother. Cursed like the decisions you make. Cursed like the coward you are. You ran Rhys, you ran away because you were pathetic, and now you believe that with this…. Horror of the void, that you’re powerful?

“<F> I’m already powerful, Riyad. You just don’t see the world like I do.”

“<F> I don’t see the world like you do because you’re nothing more than the terror stories that father told us you damned piece of scrap metal. And to think, that you still hold your dead lover’s name.

“<F> You don’t understand…. You, you’ll never understand because you’re too young.” Rhys spoke

“<F> I understand it all. Especially that you left me to die.” Riyad replied.

“<F> And you believe that killing me will give you closure?”

“<F> No, I think that killing you will give our family closure.”

Rhys took a long pause at such, for a moment he gazed upon the rubble of where his family had fallen. A drawn out sigh emitted from the mechanical monstrosity. Rhys did not bring his warhammer with him for this journey. But, his Sariyd attendant was with him. Rhys would step over to Riyad, as it had been years since he had seen his younger brother. Rhys was hesitant to even raise a hand on someone he cherished in his past for a long time.

“<F> It doesn’t have to end this way Riyad, please… Listen, understand what you’re saying. This isn’t you.”

“<F> This is your fault Rhys. You think that this wouldn’t catch up to you? Face me like a real Al-Riaz. Draw your weapon.

“<F> I don't want to kill you Riyad.”

“<F> It’s a shame then, your days are over. I’ve waited too long for this.”

Rhys opened his arms out for Riyad for what appeared to be a hug. Though, his younger brother clearly declined. Instead, they lunged forth at the mechanical monstrosity. Slashing in an upwards fashion as it’d connect with the eyelid of Rhys’s left side. A howl of pain came from Rhys, his voice lightly echoing amongst the desert sands. Though, no one was near the two, as this practically was almost in the middle of nowhere. Rhys would grasp his left eye in pain with his left hand, while his right pushed Riyad aside as he said

“<F> This… This is your last chance Riyad. I don’t want to do this to you. Go, please.”

“<F> Stop… Stop talking!”

Riyad lunged forth again, though Rhys would use his right arm to push the blade away from a lethal body part. His arm now lightly oozing out a crimson ichor as Rhys was left with no other choice than to fight his brother. With a formation of his clocktik hammer thanks to his Sariyd Attendant, the clashing of hammer and blades would roar outwards to the sands of Farah’deen. This sounds of steel banging amongst one another being so loud that there were times when Rhys felt a ringing in his ear, though never let it distract him. Each attack was followed up with the next, and each hit always being returned with another. Exhaustion growing within both sides amongst the dusty atmosphere. Rhys would soon strike the shoulder of his brother, managing to use his might no longer for survival, but utter malice for his pain began to fuel his rage. Rhys would raise his warhammer upwards again, Riyad readying his blade with one knee to the sand due to the force of the warhammer knocking him down. Riyad thrusted the blade upwards, stabbing into Rhys’s shoulder as Rhys’s warhammer connected with the strike again into Riyad. A cry of pain released from the Archblood, now knocked prone from the strike while Rhys let out a similar sound from the strike to his shoulder.

“<F> I warned you… But… Again… You- never… Listen!” Rhys yelled, raising his warhammer upwards and connecting his strike with Riyad’s knee, a crackling noise being heard once the strike landed, and a cry of pain released from Riyad.

“<F> I’ll just… get.. Up.. again..” Riyad replied in a rasp.

Riyad would attempt to reach for his Greatsword. Rhys promptly kicked it away from the Archblood’s hand. Rhys would shift his other foot down on the chest of his younger brother. Laying there in defeat, Rhys spoke.


“<F> I don’t want to do this to you. Riyad, there is a chance to drop this.”

“<F> I’ll be sure to tell Ophelia you said hello.”

All that was left was a final cry from Riyad, and then utter silence from the wreckage.


(OOC Note: This was my first time writing a Lore Story, I hope you guys can bare with me as I had no clue what I was doing when writing this. Do lmk if you guys want more Rhys Stories)

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I’ll be sure to edit it!