HOME | DD

Description
Strife looked around the blasted landscape that was the Charred Counsel’s domain. He, of all the Horsemen, despised the Counsel the most. He had strapped to his side, with no visible restraints, his signature pistols; Mercy and Redemption. Mercy was a quadruple barreled revolver in the shape of a “+” that fired bullets that would each hit with the power of a shotgun in close proximity. Redemption was single barreled revolver, which Strife used to make precise hits, often using the gun to make an example of others. Both had unlimited range with infinite, supernatural ammo, and had brought down many powerful foes.
As for armor, Strife was one of the Four so, and while he did bleed, he could heal quickly from wounds that would kill others, but eons of battle and lucky hits made sure that his torso was exposed, revealing an onyx-black, skin tight combat suit that covered his skin, with only fragments of his armor clinging on for dear life. From the waist down, he was covered in what could be described as a second skin of steel armor that covered all of his lower body, except the knees, which had holes so they didn’t impair movement. Both of his arms and his hands --which could easily be mistaken for claws-- were encased in polished steel, save the elbows, for the same reason as the knees. Around his neck he wore a violet scarf that reached his collarbone and would flow down his entire backside and split into multiple moderate-sized ribbons the further you went. His head sported pitch-black hair that spiked up backwards, as if it had been pushed back from the intense speed he rode his horse. His eyes were honey-yellow, with only spots of white to act as pupils with skin that was a mix between dark orange and bronze. Clutched in his right hand was his signature helmet. Unlike his brother Death, who had never removed his mask since the day the Four passed judgement on their own kind, Strife only wore his helmet when he was on official Counsel business. It was designed to give its wearer a fierce and impatient look, a perfect description of the Horseman.
Around him was a landscape filled with nothing but lava and thick, scorched earth. Any native beings that may have once lived here had only skeletons remaining. After walking for a great deal, Strife was wondering when he’d get there. After thinking just that, he had arrived, and he bowed low enough to show respect, but not submission, before his masters.
The Charred Counsel. They were three massive head statues that had internal flames in their eyes that never faded, and magma where the bottom jaws should’ve been. The center one looked like someone was carving a monster’s face into a mountain but gave up halfway. The one on the left looked very similar, but had horns similar to that of a ram. The right one had a face more ghastly than the others, but similar otherwise. None had the time nor patience for Strife’s antics.
“Strife… what delayed you?” The center one asked, forgetting that Strife loved to pounce on any chance to annoy anyone.
“I took the extended tour. Viewed the local wildlife, saw the sights. I’m always happy to be in your presence. I assume my brethren have been here already?”
“Yes, and already the enemy has a head start.” It was the left one that spoke.
“You’ll have to be more specific. I mean, it’s not like we’ve done anything to anger anyone, am I right?”
“We are not in the mood, Strife!”
“You’re not? I would never have guessed it!”
“You are aware of the Seven Seals, yes?” The right one spoke, flames roaring as it did.
“Noooooooo. I’ve never heard of those.” Strife replied with a face that had ‘You’re an idiot’ written all over it.
“The Seven Seals have been hidden, until now. Someone has not only retrieved all of them, but has managed to do so without us, or anyone knowing! The only reason we know of this is because the culprit recently invited every major power in the cosmos to the Crucible. There, he or she or it, demonstrated that the Seals could be drained of all their power. Power that could tip the Balance to the favor of whoever wields the Seals.”
Strife feigned dread and gasped.
“NO!! Oh, whatever shall we do?”
“You are pushing your boundaries, Horseman. Soon, our patience will be no more.”
“Then get to the good stuff. I’ve got people to annoy and/or kill, and better things to do than this.”
“Whoever this… Culprit is… they were able to bring down the mightiest champions Heaven, Hell, and everything in between could offer. Some even say they can challenge the Horsemen themselves!”
“We all know that’s not true.”
“It matters not!!! Should Heaven, Hell, or both find the Seals, not only will the First War begin once again, and the pact broken, but Earth will be utterly defenseless against the onslaught of such powerful beings. And should the two Kingdoms drain even one Seal…. Not even the Four could stop them.”
“So, the high-and-mighty Counsel can’t… oh, I don’t know, maybe… bring the Seals back remotely? Or drain the Culprit of the power they have? You three did forge them with your own powers, and I’ve learned the hard way you control anything with your powers very well.”
“No. We cannot even find the Seals, nor can we restore the power that has been taken. It has fallen upon the shoulders of the Riders to find and bring them back.”
“So, back up a bit. Why did the Culprit go public with this? Why not get all of the power for themselves?”
“It is most likely because of the fact that their form could not handle such power. That, or they craved the chaos this would unleash.”
“Ok, but why tell everyone? If they could keep this a secret from you, then hiding from everyone would be child’s play.”
“After such a display, they revealed that they had only one Seal drained. The other six were scattered across Creation. Everyone was given seven clues to set them down the path to find one Seal, essentially putting all of Creation’s inhabitants on a ‘Cosmic Scavenger Hunt’.”
“That didn’t answer my question.”
“Because we don’t have the answer! While we bicker over the pointless, the other factions get closer and closer to finding the Seals!”
“Is there a chance the truce between the First and Second Kingdoms could be broken?”
“They wouldn’t dare. Not until at least one had a Seal in their hand. Then the treaties being disregarded would be a certainty. Already Heaven and Hell have marshalled their troops and deployed them to where the clues pointed them to. Mercenaries have offered themselves up to the highest bidder, or stuck out on their own to acquire the Seals themselves. Some amongst the angels and demons have their own ambitions and have gone rogue. Even the Pagan gods have mobilized their forces.”
“So, basically, it’s everyone for themselves?”
“Yes. Now go Strife. Find the clues that lead to the Seals, and bring them back. Discover who is behind this plot, and destroy them.”
“I have to go now? And I was just starting to enjoy the unbearable heat too.”
With that, Strife once more donned his iconic helmet, and would never remove it until the job was finished. Despite the many bullet, slash, and burn marks where the helmet shielded its wearer, the only exposed part was the upper back of its skull where his hair jutted out and curved up. Strife spun on his heel and broke into a moderate jog. He gave a mental call and a pool blue electricity began to follow alongside him on his right. Soon, a horse began to emerge, completely armored from head to tail in polished steel plates, with chain mail at the feet. Its mane was not hair, but instead a row of sharp knives pointing upwards. Strife jumped to his right and landed on Mischief, his steed.
“Mischief, we have another adventure ahead of us.” Strife said as his mount began to break into a speed that would soon break the sound barrier.
Strife, the White Rider, the Gunsmith of Doom, the Perfect Marksman, rode forth on a journey that would push him to the limits.
His cause: Nobel
His skill: Unparalleled
His resolve: Unbreakable
His odds: Suicidal
And he had no idea of his personal connection to the Culprit.