Removing his helmet, he could not believe what he was seeing. Towering above the dense jungles of this new world Columbus discovered back in 1492, stood stone pyramids. Visiting Egypt Conquistador Captain Fernan de Sevilla got to see the ancient pyramids that stood for thousands of years. Yet these Mayan pyramids in the Yucatan appeared similar in structure except they appeared layered. Stairs went as far as the tops of them. Being led by a native guide, some Tarascan, an enemy of the now gone Aztecs made him sick to his stomach. Were these savages worth their god given time? Year 1534 A.D. of their Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and the once mighty Aztec Empire was now part of New Spain. With only a team of thirty-six other Conquistadores Fernan was uncertain of their chances of fighting off natives here. Sure, Cortez managed to take down an Empire, but he had native allies. All Fernan had was thirty-six men led by a clumsy oaf for a guide. Yes, they had armor, swords, halberds, Harquebus's, and horses. To their misfortune this expedition did not have an army of native allies.
If this expedition fails, more will be sent with a larger force. Something Fernan and his acquaintances could not afford this year. He sighed regretting the decision to push on with this expedition so soon. Yet he was seeing pyramids as tall as mountains. All his focus rested on these structures. Just thinking of all the treasures that lay within took his mind off the woes. He turned around to take a good look at the banner he had placed so they could find their way back to the boats. A decision was made in his mind. Choose one of the nearest pyramids or settlements. Kill everyone that was not Spanish including their guide. Return home wealthy as the King himself. Something rustled in the jungle before them. It drew all their attention from the pyramid sized structures. His men formed up in defensive positions. Ready to face more savages, beasts, or whatever lurked in these lands Fernan put his helmet back on. Now drawing his sword his eyes witnessed something emerging from the jungle.
A human sized bat with limbs similar to man, but the head, wings, feet of a bat, burst out of the jungle. Letting out a screech like roar the bat monster lunged at one of the Conquistadors. Eight Harquebusiers opened fire on the creature. Their shots took the creature down. Such a horrifying creature gave his men a bit of a startle. It caused their guide to run away from their group. Fernan sent one of his most trusted men, Hidalgo Menendez to cut them down. His Tarascan guide served their purpose up to this moment. He was going to have him killed anyways, the godless heathen. Feeling unfazed like his men were the captain approached the dead creature. Using his sword, he pierced the corpse several times making sure it was dead. Once he cleaned his blade another came out of the jungle from a different angle. Akin to lizards he saw this monster had an upright posture, arms with claws, thick tail, feathers on its back, and an elongated snout. Like a hound with no nose, but scales in place of fur this creature showed rows of sharp teeth. Fernan cut away at this creature. It snapped at his blade then pounced on him. Knocked to the ground, Fernan dropped his sword. Its jaws attempted to bite his neck and shoulder. His cuirass, and pauldrons spared him. All of his men stabbed this creature as one. Eager to save their Captain the others tore the corpse off Fernan. He allowed them to help him up only to urge them to press forward into the jungle. Monsters of New Spain were not going to stop him from attaining riches of this new world.
Riding through the field towards the steppes she pressed on the Hun's tail. At a full gallop, Alde the Strong flared her nostrils as she attempted to catch up to the single Hun. The very last survivor of a failed raid this Hun was on his own. She took pursuit of the lone Hun along with five others into the fields of Scythia. Stretching from the Black Sea to the Parthian Empire's mountainous borders, and past the Caspian Sea, Scythia was also home to the Sarmatians. As a Cavalry Virgin Archer, Alde gripped her lance along with the reins, felt obligated to kill this Hun whose warband tried burning a village. It cost the Huns a few hundred heads, horses, weapons, and arrows. Just leaving this Hunnic group blind as to what happened to their warband was the goal now.
At a full gallop Alde gained ground on the Hun who tossed his spear to the ground. In full panic the Hun kicked his steed to move faster. Scales on her armor clinked as they bounced from the horses' movement. Hoof beats pounded the ground repeatedly almost in rhythm with her heart beats. Poised to throw her lance into the Hun's back Alde witness an incredible event. From the skies above a winged creature dove for the Hun, taking her kill. Bewildered Alde stopped her horse then reared it around a few times while blinking. Her eyelashes had dirt in them forcing her to wipe it away. Both Hun and his Horse screamed as the winged creature dug its claws into flesh. Alde stopped her own fellow Sarmatians who were poised to strike the beast. Stopping them in their tracks, Alde spared the life of the creature. Seeing how it was taking down man and horse it was their lives she spared from the mythical Griffin. Tales of the winged beasts spread from mouth to ear from the Greeks to other cultures. Alde never believed she would even give witness to one.
Creatures with fish tails, and fins in the place of legs. Fish tails connected to the upper body of a human being. Water dwellers is what some call them, others merfolk, or mermaids, and merman. Some legends say they drown people by tying them to rocks using seaweed. From the very lips of mariners, tales of these creatures spread across the globe for centuries. Mermaids or merfolk can be found all over mythology of Greeks, Romans, Phoenicians, and Mesopotamia. Depictions of them are all over Europe, and no doubt Asia. Some believe these creatures to exist. Others see them as just manatees covered in seaweed. There are those who tried explaining the origins with the ape theory of humans having cousins that live in the ocean. Yet could be possible these mythical creatures are experiments or come from another realm through portals? Only time will tell, or others will say they are only in our dreams, imaginations and mythology.
Lulu could not believe what she was seeing. Another fiend in their way. On the well-known yet infamous Mi'ihen High Road's third mile one pesky fiend stood in the path to progress. Summoner Ginnem began to summon the aeon Ifrit, but Lulu put her hand up to stop her. She already fought off a pack of Mi'ihen Fangs with both aeons. In Lulu's mind she knew Ginnem needed to rest before another encounter. This Ipiria did pose a threat to both of them. Using her stuffed Moogle Doll, Lulu charges it up with her Black Magic powers to take down this fiend. She set it on the ground eying the Ipiria. Its reptilian like body moving about like it was waiting to strike. In a quick motion her Moogle doll rushed up to the Ipiria with a suicidal attack. The black magic doll punched the Ipiria to the ground ending its wretched life. Pyereflies emerged from the corpse of the fiend. For Ginnem's pilgrimage the way was now clear.
Running through the cobble streets he let his top hat fall off his head. There was no time to turn around and get it. He was being chased by something. Each step on the hard surface with his buckled shoes made too much noise for his liking. With his footsteps echoing in the streets and alleys, he could only hope to get somewhere safe. Whatever was chasing him could hear his footfalls. Even though this was not Paris, the city still felt large at night. Marseilles was one of many cities within France. In these days the Revolution was in full swing. Heads were coming off on the guillotine faster than bread can be delivered or bought. Whoever was near their leaders especially that Robespierre either wanted to kill all of France or simply wasn't paying attention to the toll. That was what he thought in his mind as the beheadings started rising against the traitors as Robespierre and his supporters called them.
Assuming it had to be one of the Jacobins pursuing him he stopped to turn around. Looking for a weapon he turned his head left and right. All he found was a broken cart handle that seemed suitable. Already discharged his pistol in another alley against a thief he somehow lost that hand his bag of pellets along with the powder. Ready to face whoever was following him he felt convinced he was just seeing things. Feeling confident he jutted his chest out, raised his chin believing it was just a Jacobin dressed up as a creature to scare their intended targets. Thumping sounds from the way he ran could be heard. It indicated someone was following him. To him the pursuer was bare foot and stomping or they wore fur shoes to muffle their footsteps. Clever, but not clever enough. He thought to himself as he gripped his wooden weapon. With each thump growing louder the pursuer drew closer. It did not sound like a huge beast at all. He must have been up too many hours late already. The fires inside the lantern streetlamps could still cause hallucinations. Expecting there to be some pursuer or prankster dressed up as some cat beast the Marsailles target was surely taken by surprise.
Coming after him was a large cat like beast double the size of a full-grown horse. Its dark wild fur made it blend in the darkness of the streets. A pair of large head sized green eyes blinked at him. This cat like creature approached him in a more curious, but hungry fashion. Its purrs sounded more like growls. Fear took over his entire body. His limbs quaked with fear letting the wooden cart handle drop to the ground. Clattering on the cobble street the wooden weapon's fall made too much noise. Behind him he heard a loud meow. There were more of these large creatures prowling the streets of Marseilles. All he could think of was a good reason not to wander the streets so late. Attempting to regain his composure he only allowed himself to be an idle prey. The cat beast reached out with a swing of its paw. Knocked down the Marseilles French man felt one claw or two slice into his clothes and flesh. He was done for. On the cobbled street with two claw marks on his body he became the cat beast's meal.
