Tales of the Pendragons #27 - Pendragons Universe

TALES OF THE PENDRAGONS	It is a world transformed. A barren wasteland, all but devoid of life thanks to the maniacal necromancer, Charnel. Now, with Charnel gone, a new team of Pendragons has risen to save the world... for the last time.
#27
JANUARY 2005 (MARCH 2021)	FEATURING: THE PENDRAGONS 2020

Previously...
In the Death3 limited series, we learned that upon travelling backwards in time to the year 1992, Baron Wolfgang von Strucker - aka. the necromancer Charnel, a hybrid of human organs and the extradimensionally-forged body of Death's Head I - had taken over the world. After 28 years of combat, most of the Avengers had fallen and the team had been disbanded. With the help of Death's Head II and his siblings Death Metal and Death-Wreck, Charnel was defeated.

But a story remained untold: the story of the Bane, absorbed by Charnel in the late nineteen nineties in order to augment his powers. With Charnel destroyed, the Bane are free. Now the Pendragons have risen from the literal ashes of their world to fight off the Bane for the last time - and hopefully save their world in the process.


Jonathan Raven (Killraven)	Dane Whitman (Black Knight)	Francesca Grace (of the Bane)	Adam Crown (Pendragon)	Peter Albion (Albion)	Brian Braddock (Captain Britain)

"I'm sorry, Stark, but there was no way for us to get to you before the attack on Charnel."

Dane Whitman stood before a magickal purple crystal mirror, at least twice his height and width. In the center of the mirror was an image of Tony Stark, the former Avenger known as Iron Man. Since Charnel took over the world in 1992, Tony Stark had all but disbanded the Avengers, renaming the mansion "Anger's Mansion" and living as an almost total recluse with only his butler, Jarvis, and a few close friends allowed to visit.

When Death's Head, Death-Wreck and Death Metal had arrived with plans to destroy Charnel once and for all, Stark had sent messages out to all known supergroups - the X-Saviours, the Spirits of Vengeance, and Dane Whitman's Pendragons. The Pendragons were the only group not to send representatives to help in the battle, and Stark was not happy about it.

"Listen to me now, Whitman," Stark said angrily. "You weren't there for the Earth when it needed you. Now I'm reforming the Avengers - and don't expect us to come to your aid." Stark activated a circuit within his bulky armour, setting off a device that interfered with the magick of the mirror. It went dark for a moment, and when the image returned Stark had left.

An ethereal, semi-transparent red and white form floated through the floor directly behind Dane. He recognised the voice and did not bother to turn to face its source. The figure rose into the air, its arms crossed across its chest and its face stoic and emotionless. The owner of the hovering astral form was Peter Hunter, the one-time Pendragon known as Albion. He had been the most stalwart and loyal of all Pendragons for more than one hundred years, but when Charnel and his Bane-powers terrorised the other-realm of Avalon, Albion died defending his lord, the Green Knight.

Now he is eternally trapped within an astral form, wholly intangible and gifted with only the most basic of magickal powers. Without the ability to feel or interact with the physical world, Albion had become cold and emotionless. He could no longer understand the frustration Dane was feeling after his conversation with Tony Stark - nor did he want to.

"I'll always worry, Albion. I've been an Avenger for much longer than I've been a Pendragon." He finally turned to face the spirit that was behind him. "I've even known Tony Stark for almost twice as long as I've known you. He was a good friend to me once, and I can't leave things like this."

"What do you propose to do? He has made it very clear he no longer wishes to speak with you."

Where once there were lush, beautiful, dense and populated evergreen forests, now there are just dead boughs, twisted and contorted by the rotting enfluence that consumes them. Where once mist and dew rose from the soft grass, creating a crisp and fresh smell all around, now there is just acidic smog, putrifying everything it comes in contact with and assaulting the nose with a rank odour. Where there was once crystal clear water, fit for all manner of man or beast to drink, now there is just a thick soup, so toxic that to even sniff its vapour would be to sign your own death warrant.

Where once there was Avalon, the beautiful mystic other-realm, home once to Merlin, and later to the Green Knight and his valiant Pendragons, now there is a desolate wasteland, home to nought but the souls of the damned.

"Charnel didn't leave anything untouched, did he?" Adam Crown walked through knee-deep sludge, his magickal sword Caliburn held tightly in his good right hand. His golden armour protected him from the poisonous landscape, but still, the utter destruction of the proud realm he had once called home made him nauseous. "For decades we haven't been able to access Avalon, sealed off by Charnel's magic, and now... now I'm almost glad."

"I know what you mean." Brian Braddock hovered alongside Adam, his own powers saving him from having to avoid the tangled mess of dessicated corpses and fetid refuse with which Adam was forced to contend. His eyes shone with a magnificent golden light as he scanned the realm for anything that could be salvaged.

"Albion gave his life to save Avalon and the Green Knight, and look how it turned out," Adam said. "I can't believe it. If Charnel hadn't sealed off so much of our magic, we could have stopped this. I know it."

"There's no point worrying about the past, Adam," Brian said. "We have a job to do now. We have a whole world to rebuild, and I suspect that it is only the power of the Pendragons that can do it."

"That's easy for you to say," Adam scoffed. "With the enchantment Doctor Strange put on you before he died, you don't have to worry about tripping over dead horses."

"He gave me only the power to see the truth, Adam, and - wait." Adam stopped immediately. He stood completely motionless, allowing Brian to examine their surroundings. "Someone else is here."

Brian cast his golden gaze across all of the visible land, and caught sight of something quite remarkable. A human woman survived. She wore silver armour and carried a large staff. She was hiding in the highest boughs of a massive tree and glaring at the two Pendragons.

The woman dropped gracefully from the tall tree and landed on her feet in the thick goop. She swung the staff that she carried in her right hand, leaving a trail of dark purple energy in its wake. As she approached Adam she tensed her left hand and a large metal spike, the length of her forearm, shot out from the wrist-piece of her armour.

The woman marched forward, a sneer on her face and an evil glint in her eye. The muck and mire seemed to flee from her as she stepped toward the two Pendragons, much to Adam's jealousy. She continued to spin her staff around like a windmill as she walked.

"Hey, I asked you a - " Adam began. Grace swung her staff around in a wide arc, and the thick end of it struck Adam's armoured stomach hard. He dropped to his knees, winded and gasping for air.

"That does it, lady," Brian said, lowering so that he could get closer to the Pendragons' now obvious enemy. "Put down the staff and stand back, or Adam and I will have to use force."

"Hah!" Grace scoffed. "I am the mightiest of the Bane! With the weapons and magick at my disposal, the two of you stand no chance of defeating me. Instead, it is I who shall conquer you and use your corpses to support my house of charnel."

"That's a poor choice of words," Adam said. "You think you can beat us, Grace? You and what army?"

As Adam and Brian watched in bewilderment, Grace's eyes began to emit a purple glow not unlike that emitted by her staff. She lowered her staff and retracted her spike, and with a few sweeping movements of her hands the swampy ground began to become less viscous, allowing the three to move more easily.

Adam tried to take a step forward, but just as he lifted his foot he felt something pulling on it. He tried his other foot and had the same sensation. He looked down only to see two charred, dessicated arms grabbing at his legs, not only trying to stop him from moving, but also trying to pull him down into their lifeless domain. He swung his enchanted sword, Caliburn, but to no effect. It passed with no effect through the clawing arms that were rapidly growing in strength and number. They now rose everywhere that Adam and Brian had passed in their present journey to Avalon.

Brian lowered himself, hovering just beyond the reach of the clawing, grasping hands. He quickly moved forward, and raised a fist to strike Grace. She swung her bladed arm, nicking Brian's left arm. He flew up high, then dove for another strike.

"Brian! Take this!" Adam threw Caliburn up high into the sky, and Brian swooped to catch it. With the enchanted sword in hand he dove down and swung the sword, which connected with Grace's staff. She pushed her staff up toward her airborne attacker with surprising strength; enough to make the super-strong Captain Britain strain. She released her left hand from the staff and swung it up against Brian's abdomen, piercing him with her wrist-blade. He dropped into the sludge and was quickly smothered by the rotting arms.

"Brian!" Adam screamed. "I'll get you for that, witch!" He pulled harder against the hands that bound him and felt them starting to give just a little. He pulled until he thought the muscles in his legs would snap under the strain. The harder he pulled, the weaker, but more numerous, the hands seemed to become.

"This is amusing, Pendragon," Grace said. She sat down on a seat of bony forearms to watch Adam's senseless struggle.

Before Adam finished speaking, the ground beneath him shone brightly with a golden glow that he knew well. It was the same intense light that shone from the eyes of Brian Braddock, and as he was bathed in it Adam found his strength redoubled, and his resolve doubly redoubled. He pulled with all of the strength he could muster, and the hands fell off him like so many leaves on an autumn's day. The viscous sludge at his feet began to turn runny, and the forearms supporting Grace collapsed, sending her down into the goo.

"Looks like you made Brian mad," Adam said. "I'd hate to be in your shoes now..."

"Don't test me," Grace said. She swung her staff at Adam's head, but this time he was ready. He quickly grabbed two lifeless forearms and intercepted Grace's blow. The arms shattered in a rain of bone pieces of flesh, but it gave Adam a chance to lunge and punch Grace in the diaphragm. The villain staggered and took a few steps back.

"This isn't over!" she yelled. She stepped behind a dead and broken tree, with Adam following close behind. He rounded the tree only a moment after her, but she had already made good her escape.

Avalon wasn't the only place being assaulted by corpses. New York's Hudson River, boiled dry by Charnel years earlier, was scene to an army of the walking dead marching mindlessly toward the city. They carried all manner of weapons: wrecked steel and iron girders, wooden stakes, and even the odd gun. Their faces were permanently etched with screams of everlasting agony, an agony they wished to inflict upon those still lucky enough to have the gift of life.

Halfway between the undead army and the city of New York stood one man, with fire-red hair. He wore dark blue chainmail leggings and one arm was similarly adorned. A leather strap hung across his chest, from right shoulder to left him, with gleaming stars attached to it. His right hand, gloved in leather, wielded an impressive-looking broadsword.

"Huh. I guess this is it..." he muttered. He raised his sword toward the horde which was now only a few hundred feet away. As they got closer, the man could hear a cracking and slurping sound made by the zombies' brittle bones and rotten flash as they marched along the dry, hard floor of the bone dry Hudson River. The sound echoed in the pit of his stomach, making him feel ill. "Okay, I'm not listening to that any longer." He raised his sword higher, and charged toward his opponents.

His swung his sword back and forth, and was surprised to see it pass harmlessly through his enemies' bodies. His fists, too, had no effect. But theirs did. They scrambled over him, kicking, punching and pulling at him as they continued their inexorable flow toward the city.

Above, a silver aircraft sped across the sky, heading straight for the animated corpses. As the craft got closer, the battered man was able to see a solid red 'A' written on its tail and a trapdoor slowly opening beneath it. A crimson and gold figure dropped from the trapdoor and sped straight at the scene of battle. With one outstretched, iron clad arm, the figure pulled the flame-haired man to safety.

The craft settled nearby and disgorged three passengers. A woman in a flowing black cloak, whom Iron Man introduced as the Black Widow; a second woman, garbed in gypsy cloth, called the Scarlet Witch; and a third woman, dressed plainly, and guided by the Witch. Her name was Alicia Masters.

"Any idea what they are?" Iron Man asked. He turned slightly to gesture at the undead monsters.

"None," Killraven replied. "I just know my sword and fists pass right through them, but they can touch me."

"We saw," Iron Man said. "That's how I managed to pull you free, by pulling you through them. Now, let's see what they think of my repulsor rays. You ready, 'tasha? Wanda?"

The three heroes leaped into the valley that was once the Hudson River and were immediately immersed in a sea of putrified flesh. The corpses lashed out at them, caring not for their fellows, which inevitably got in their way. The Scarlet Witch took a step back, away from the chaotic battle, while Iron Man and the Black Widow planted themselved right in it.

The Witch raised her hands, moving her fingers in arcane gestures so intricate that none but the most well-trained masters of mysticism can perform them. Crimson energy radiated from her hands and bathed the field of battle with precisely the desired effect - the corpses became more tangible, able to be harmed by Iron Man and the Widow's blows.

Iron Man lashed out with his repulsor rays, burning through some bodies and simply sending others flying backward and destablising the other corpses with which it collided. The Widow used her Widow's Sting, a powerful bioelectric blast that she was able to fire from small blasters attached to her wrist. To her disgust, the corpses seemed to feel her attacks; they moaned and even screamed when she hit them.

"Good work, Wanda, but we're still outnumbered!" Iron Man cried. "Killraven, if you don't mind...?"

Killraven leaped enthusiastically into the battle, his sword in hand. He slashed at the arms and heads of his opponents, first preventing them from attacking, then preventing them from doing anything. But still they came.

"No matter how many we kill, they keep coming!" the Widow shouted. "By the time we could destroy them all, we'd have died of exhaustion."

The enemy came thick and fast, never speaking, and therefore never revealing what they were or who sent them. They seemed driven only to kill and destroy.

The four heroes began to move out, heading up the slope of the 'valley' and back toward Iron Man's aircraft. The corpses followed, and Iron Man hoped that the engines' heat upon takeoff would be enough to incinerate them. He didn't expect one to bar the entrance... with a hostage. Alicia.

Suddenly, a bolt of bright silver energy struck the monster. All present, heroes and zombies alike, looked toward the sky to see the source of the attack. All they could see was a flying, triangular metal shape coming closer.

The shape landed on the ground nearby and someone stepped off of it. The identity of the person was indeterminable, as he was bathed in a similar energy to that which struck the zombie. As he approached the corpses they backed off, and when he finally did make an aggressive move against them it was not enough to send them packing.

"Those... were Bane?" Iron Man asked. Of all those assembled, only the Black Knight and Iron Man had met the Bane before. The ages-old enemies of the Pendragons, the Bane were evil entities, led by a Red Lord, who manipulated or directly controlled humans into performing acts of evil. The Pendragons, and their lord, the Green Knight, exist solely to defeat the Bane.

Beneath his crimson armour, Iron Man turned red with rage. "Are you trying to blame this on us now?" he screamed. "At least we - "

"As I was saying," Dane continued, "the Bane now seem to be free. And somehow, they're possessing corpses."

"Albion is trying to figure out how we can defeat them, but in the meantime, I'm here to lend you guys a hand."

"Actually, Stark," Dane said. "Last I heard, you weren't the Grand High Master Mucky-muck of the whole universe, and I could do what I want. When you do become king of the world, then we'll talk banishment, okay?"

Iron Man raised one of his palms toward the Black Knight. "Give me one reason, Dane. Just one."

"I - right. Sure. Bye, Wanda, 'tasha." Dane mounted his atomic speed and took off, leaving an angry Tony Stark behind.

Grace walked up jagged stone steps and into a room bathed in a dim red glow. At the center of the room a fire burned, casting shadows on the walls - despite there being nothing to shadow. Behind the fire lay a red giant, unmoving and unliving. He was once the Red Lord of the Bane, slain decades earlier by the beast Charnel.

"The power I have given you is a mighty one, Francesca. With it, you can destroy the Pendragons."

"He was a fool; unworthy to the task. But you - you were the only Bane able to stay free of Charnel's death-grasp. You can do it. You are the one for whom I have waited these many eons."

"I'm flattered," Grace said. "But without living hosts, these Bane are pretty much useless."

Tendrils of black energy entered the room from the middle of the fire and reached out to all corners, finally rounding in on Grace. They wrapped around her body, sealing her tightly in a dark coccoon, preventing her even from breathing. She panicked, but there was nothing to panic about. She was not under attack; she was receiving a gift.

When the coccoon dissolved Grace stood there, naked. She gasped for breath, instinctively taking in as much oxygen as she could, like a drowning swimmer with only a short time above water. Then the tendrils returned, briefly touching her body... and where they came into contact with her, black and red armour appeared. After a few seconds, Grace was reborn. Her red armour gave her a newfound strength, and her staff glowed with an energy so strong that Grace feared it could overwhelm her.

Adam Crown crawled through the swamp on his hand and knees, trying to find any sign of Brian Braddock. He was sure he had gone through the entire swamp, but had found nothing. "No..." he whispered.

Adam looked up to see a red-tailed hawk perch in a dead and broken tree above him. It looked down at him, cocking its head to the right. Adam stood up and approached it, when it took off and began circling him, encouraging him to follow it. He did, and after an hour or so found himself at the entrance to Avalon's Green Chapel, home of the Green Knight.

The bird departed, and Adam entered the Chapel. What he saw amazed him. The Green Knight sat in the corner of his main chamber, looking up at an enraged Brian Braddock.

"Brian! You're alive!" Adam cried. "I looked everywhere for you! You can - wait a sec. Is that a girdle in your hand? Brian! We never would have guessed!"

"This isn't a laughing matter, Adam," Brian snapped. Adam looked him over, and noticed that his uniform was tattered in many locations. He hair was mattered with dirt and blood, and he had a thin scar running along the left side of his neck. "The Green Knight has to pay!"

"There isn't time," Brian answered. "The Green Knight has betrayed us. And he'll never be able to do it again."

The glow in Brian's eyes was brighter than ever before as he approached the Green Knight to strike a deathblow. Adam raised Caliburn and ran toward him, ready to fight him if that is what it took to save the Green Knight. He had no idea how the Green Knight was still alive, and he wasn't going to let Brian rob the Pendragons of the chance to find out.

Suddenly, the hawk that had guided Adam to the chapel flew in and, in a haze of shimmering silver light it changed into a crimson-armoured woman. Before anyone could react, the woman ran at Brian, her staff raised.

The Green Knight rose from his throne and leaped between Brian and Grace. The Red Knight's staff pierced the Green Knight's armour easily, and the Green Knight slumped to the ground. Brian looked shocked, but Adam raised Caliburn and ran at Grace. He swung Caliburn at her staff, but some kind of magickal field repelled his enchanted sword and knocked him backwards.

He pulled himself to his feet and stared Grace in the eye. "If this is how it must be..." He raised his hands, and energy gushed out from his wounded chest. It struck Grace, forcing her to flee, and continued to wash all over Avalon and beyond.

Iron Man, the Black Widow, Killraven and the Scarlet Witch had re-assembled at Stark's 'Anger's Mansion', formerly the headquarters and home of the Avengers and now a fortified base in which Stark spent his time yelling at his former friends. They were plotting strategies to use against the Bane when Killraven, keeping watch, saw that the Bane had come up with a strategy of their own - they were rushing Anger's Mansion.

"Iron Man! Everyone!" Killraven called. "We need to do something! We're under attack!"

He threw the stars on his chest, each one connecting with a Bane and knocking them down. He picked up his sword and leaped toward them, followed shortly after by Iron Man, the Widow and the Witch. They charged the Bane, each fighting in their own way, and making little headway.

In the sky, Dane Whitman hovered on his atomic steed, looking for the most opportune moment to save his former friends. He got his chance when a Bane struck at the Scarlet Witch from behind, disabling the enchantment that made the Bane susceptible to attack.

"WANDA!" Dane cried. He descended swiftly, his ebony blade in hand. He slashed fruitlessly at the Bane, which had now buried the Widow and Iron Man under many of their number. Only the Knight and Killraven remained, and even the Black Knight's enchantment, which had driven the Bane off earlier, had no effect.

Just when thinks looked to be at their worst, the two heroes looked up to see an amazing sight. A massive wave of energy was washing over the city, heading straight for the Bane. It hit them, destroying every single one of them, but also wreaking havoc on the city's buildings and infrastructure. Killraven and Dane were unaffected by the wave, and when it passed, they were startled by what they saw.

"Brian! Avalon! It's been restored!" Adam stood at the entrance to the Green Chapel, and saw Avalon as the beautiful land it once was. Rolling green fields formed most of the landscape, and where the mucky swamps had been were now flowing, crystal clear rivers. Trees had returned to life, and some animals were making themselves visible. "I don't believe it."

"No..." the Green Knight moaned. "He's right. I betrayed you all. But that is no longer important. My time has passed."

"My time has passed, but yours, Brian, is just beginning. Stephen Strange did more than just give you the power to see the truth. He gave you almost all of my power, the power of the Green Knight. The Power Pendragon. I kept enough for one final attack, at the right time. I dealt the Bane one final blow... and did my best to undo Charnel's damage."

"Nothing... as one day you'll see. You've always known that when you are injured, so is Britain, correct? Well, Avalon serves a similar purpose... for the entire world. When Avalon is harmed, the Earth stands no chance. By using my powers on Avalon, I used them on the whole world. You can do that now, Brian, with my former power. Stay here. Keep Avalon safe, and so keep the world safe."

"Yes, Brian Braddock. You are the Green Knight. A role you have long been destined to fulfill."

"What happened?" Iron Man asked when he recovered and saw the devastated New York. Buildings had been destroyed, and plants and water covered the city. Rivers flowed again, trees were growing where none had grown for years, and buildings now served as pots for majestic plants.

"The Pendragons did this? Another betrayal. Your tidal wave has created even more devastation."

"The Pendragons were responsible?" The Scarlet Witch asked. "I'm sorry, Dane, but I have to agree with Tony. This is terrible."

"I don't know what to say," Dane said. "I had no idea this was going to happen, but look... people might have died..."

"I don't believe you all!" Killraven said. "Sure, the wave might have taken some lives, and God knows we don't have many to spare. It certainly has destroyed half the city, and maybe half the world. But look at it another way. We have water. Plants. Life. The tidal wave can be seen as a cause of devastation, certainly. But it can also be seen as a source of a chance for rebirth. To rebuild the world Charnel destroyed."

"Now we have the chance to really save the world. To begin anew. We have the basics again. Food. Water. This is a blessing." Killraven finished.

"I'd better go," Dane smiled. "But before I do... Killraven, the Pendragons could really use someone like you. Would you consider coming with me?"

"I'm sorry, Knight," Killraven said. "But New York has always been my home. I don't want to leave it."

"I understand. But the offer remains," he climbed atop his atomic steed once again. "'bye, everyone."

From a mystical viewscreen, the Red Knight watched as the last of the Green Knight's power washed over the world, undoing much of Charnel's damage. Scores of Bane drones were destroyed, but that was an acceptable loss.

It was all part of Grace's plan. Sure, the Pendragons thought the world had been saved, at least for a while. But in truth, the world was now in Grace's hands - and she felt like squeezing it.

When I first came up with the plot for this issue, I had no intention of dedicating it to the victims of the 29/12/04 tsunamis. But then, I realised, my plot may have subconsciously been inspired by those events, and felt they deserved some kind of credit or acknowledgement. So, without further ado...

THIS ISSUE IS DEDICATED TO THE VICTIMS OF THE 29/12/04 TSUNAMIS AND THE FAMILY MEMBERS THAT SURVIVED THEM.

Normally, I consider it crass to dedicate fanfic issues to causes. I mean, what does it achieve? The family members of tsunami victims won't be reading this, I'm sure. At least with books, films, or comics, people read them and feel glad that people care. But I feel particularly sad about these events, and felt, since this issue just happened to have a plot that reflected how I felt about them, that a dedication was in order. I just hope this issue is good enough for the victims.