Wrath Of Gaia (Part 3)
...and the last part of the prologue.
The moment the amulet had hit the floor; the whole city had begun to shake violently. Houses began to collapse, towers fell and fire began to spread across the rooftops as everything except for the ground forming a radius around the Baron’s tower was slowly destroyed beyond recognition.
Not too far upstream, a natural dam stood. A mass of rocks and rotting logs, the dam kept the river at bay while forming an artificial lake above the blockage.
When the earthquake began, the logs started crack and break apart, allowing the pressure of the lake above to push through and enhance the steady increase of pressure until finally, the dam exploded, letting loose a raging torrent of wood, rock and water.
Ragnar slammed a bolt into the wooden floor at the base of the window, and then tied a length of rope around it tightly before tying the other end to another bolt, which he fitted into his crossbow.
Done with preparations, he opened the tower window, then stopped as the desolation was revealed to him. In the 3 minutes he had been in the tower, the city had turned into a scene that looked like a dragon had passed through and torched the place.
He shook his head and aimed at a chimney that was still standing. He paused for a split-second; raised his crossbow up a foot, then released the bolt into the air.
There was a faint clack as the bolt slammed into the chimney, followed by a high pitched whirring sound as the man zip lined down the rope.
Right before he reached the end of the line, the chimney shuddered and collapsed, causing the line to go slack and releasing the man onto a roof, which caved in beneath him.
He landed with a grunt in a cloud of dust and covered his mouth to prevent the particles from entering his lungs, then stood and began to climb off of the wreckage.
A small hand grabbed his ankle, making him pause and look down at the skeletal hand weakly clawing at him. Someone who had gotten trapped in the collapse he had caused.
‘They should have gotten out when they could.’ Ragnar thought to himself as he kicked the hand aside and climbed off of the wreckage.
The men who hired him had wanted him to kill the Baron and take his amulet, but they hadn’t said anything about the whole city being destroyed. They had found him at one of the usual places. A shady bar on the eastern side, near the river. The river was an effective barrier blocking the poor from the rich. It meant good business for the rich without the filth of the city clogging the gutters.
After a few minutes of jogging, Ragnar reached the bridge. It began to slowly shake as he stepped onto it, and he ignored it just as he would the swaying of a ship at sea.
It was just another tremor though, and was over just as fast as it had started.
Ragnar continued walking, reaching the apex of the bridge as the shaking began once more. This time starting as a low rumbling and slowly increasing to a loud roar, filling his ears with sound. Finally, the realization came to him as he turned his head and looked upstream.
The frothing mass of water met his eyes and he turned to run, but he had nowhere to go as the flood swept over him and the bridge, blocking them from view.
Half a minute later, the flood died down to it’s old calm self. The bridge and the man were nowhere to be seen.