《Birth Of Sin》


 Birth Of Sin

    ''Tell me again, Agarn.'' Master Holom commanded of me.


    ''Master, I''m quite certain I''ve repeated this nigh ten times already-,''


    ''I will hear nothing of it. Tell me again!'' He ordered brushing his hand through his thick gray hair. Both yellow eyes piercing my own sky blue with such intensity I feared he might set me on fire.


    ''Sir James Collifer, Councilman to the King of Syn, King Harold the III, asks that we assist him in finding his son who was recently lost near the Dead City. Convoy was ransacked but a raven was sent in distress, meaning they''re alive only somewhere in the Dead City.''


    ''Good, you were paying attention.'' He sounded content which only ever happened when he heard exactly what he wanted to.


    ''I do try, Master. I may be an apprentice still but it is not as if I''m entirely without my wits.'' I told him reigning my horse around a corner. My heartbeat stopped as the last tree vanished from the corner of my eye.


    All that was left for my eyes to feast upon was the feast the crow''s had at their disposal. Their blood red eyes, tainted by malignant forces corrupting the bodies littering the fields by the city glared at me until the whine of a nearby knight''s stead scattered them like puffs of black cloud in the sky.


    ''There they are.'' Holom stated with a disgruntled growl.


    Further up the path that rounded the forested hill, Sir Collifer awaited us. Impatiently to boot for his face was not one of relief to see us come.


    ''Took you long enough!'' He shouted with authority. His neglect to show respect to the very slayers he called in to help evident enough that it extended to the dozen knights he had riding at his side.


    ''Apologizes, Sir Collifer. We do not make it a point of making powerful men wait. Not with such urgent matters at hand.'' Holom recounted false words that he must have said a hundred times over, each time sounding more and more sincere.


    ''Then come, be on with it.'' Collifer urged us forward, his frail almost sickly frame barely spoke of the power he had.


    He was an aristocrat. A powerful advisory in the courts I''m sure but looking at him it appeared as if he barely ate. I could break him with a handshake, which explained the guards. A dozen knights, fifty footmen just at the base of the hill, forming ranks just where the burnt fields began.


    ''Sir Collifer allow me to introduce myself. I am Master Holom of Typho of the Slayers and this is my apprentice Agarn of the Westfields.''


    The aristocrat eyed me over wearily. Beady pulsating eyes like a bug''s stared at me for second making me squirm under his sight. I didn''t much like it but I couldn''t quite tell him to stop.


    ''The Westfields? Thought your people were butchered to the last.''


    ''Not my people, councilman. My people are the Slayers.''


    ''Huh, so they are...'' He turned his gaze away in disgust.


    ''Councilman, if we might move along. I''m aware that your son has wandered into the Dead City. Iory. If I recall.''


    ''Yes, yes. Forced in there when his escort was ambushed by Rotters.''


    ''Mindless, walking corpses. Most likely people who died when this city fell to whatever force took hold of it. You''ll find a thousand of them in this field alone.'' Holom was quick to point out the burnt corpses. ''Most of them will awake if disturbed. Your son''s escort must have waltzed right into a nest of them without realizing.''


    ''Are they really so dangerous?'' Collifer asked my Master.


    ''Alone, not very. But in great numbers, such as the entire population of Iory, that is troubling. If not an impossible task to overcome.''


    ''But it can be done?''


    ''With great care. Assuming you and your men listen to everything I say.''


    ''I shall command them to do so.'' Collifer turned to his men. ''From now on every order that Master Holom gives shall be taken as were it my own. Is that understood?'' I smirked as his men gave a weak reply. They weren''t for listening to a Slayer, though I suspect they were more against going into the Dead City.


    Iory, the Dead City, Home to Noxuz, Eater of Rot. I''ve heard stories of the place, how it housed a legion of undead. From Rotters to Woxen all manner of undead stalked it''s empty streets. Feasted on the centuries old corpses or even resorted to cannibalism. No one save for Slayers came near it''s abandoned fields that stretched beyond it''s derelict walls.


    Since my training began it had always been a topic of discussion among Slayers. Letting a Dead City fester and rot which might sound advantageous but when dealing with the monstrous undead and their kin only meant it would grow stronger. Holom was all for pushing towards a cleansing of Iory in particular, maybe after this mission he might but for now it was just him and I to help the Councilman.


    ''Now what is-,'' Collifer began.


    ''The main road is five miles back. It intentionally turns away from Iory since it fell. How were the Rotters able to force them into the city?'' I asked unintentionally cutting the Councilman off.


    ''You will not speak out of turn apprentice!'' The Councilman spat but his eyes spoke to me of something more behind his words. Behind the reason we were there.


    Holom raised his hand. ''Councilman, my apologizes but my apprentice is not entirely wrong. Rotters do not wander far. They are attached to their place of death, not to mention lack of food, particularly the dead kind. Unless someone were to enter their territory they won''t attack the living.''


    ''Slayer you are here to assist me, not question me!''


    My master straightened his shoulders, brow furrowed in anger. ''It is my duty to ask questions. If you want noble ignorant heroes go find a hopeful fool. If you desire a professional than you may ask for my help. What shall it be?''


    The Councilman looked defeated, most of all his men. ''I''m sorry, Master Slayer, this ordeal has left me emotionally drained. Perhaps it''s wise I be entirely honest with you.''


    ''This small part of the world belongs to my house. The name Collifer carries power here and in the King''s court. Iory was the original capital of my House long ago. Until it''s fall after Noxuz rose from the grave.''


    ''Noxuz, Eater of Rot. One of the few Defiled we Slayers have yet to kill.'' Master interjected though without the risk of being lashed at.


    ''Defiled?'' The Councilman asked curious. Almost too curious. Most people elected to remain ignorant of the foul things in our world. I didn''t blame them. There were horrors even Slayers didn''t care to deal with but it was our job, thus we do as is asked.


    ''The Champions of the Ruined Ones, remnants of the time before the Slayers. Too much history to go into detail, but needless to say they are powerful creatures. Turning a living, thriving city such as Iory into a Dead City is child''s play to them. Shame too, Iory had the best raspberry bread around.''


    Sir Collifer nodded his head in agreement. ''My House took pride in that. Just wish I could have gotten a chance to try it. But this was well before my time.''


    ''It was all the stories say and more.'' Holom recounted old memories.


    ''You speak as if you were there, Master Slayer?'' The Councilman rose an eyebrow in interest.


    ''I was. Though I was not present for Noxuz''s rise to power.''


    ''That would make you...two....three hundred years old!''


    ''Three hundred and eighty two, to be more precise. I am an old man as my apprentice so lovingly points out on occasion.'' He told the Councilman to which I could do nothing but smile. I was a bit cheeky about such things mostly to hide the occasional stint of boredom.


    ''I do so with love, Master.''


    ''Hmmhm.'' He eyed me over and I just smiled though Sir Collifer looked none too impressed.


    ''As I was saying, Master Slayer, since I told my son of his heritage he became obsessed with seeing Iory with his own eyes. I warned him it was dangerous.''


    ''You let him go, despite that?''


    ''As a Collifer he should know where he hails from. And it''s not as if I sent him off alone. Twenty men escorted him to the edge of the field here.''


    I noticed Master look down around him, seeing exactly what I saw. Tiny discrepancies in the permanently charred dirt. Parts of it were patted down, almost hard as if something were lying there for quite some time. But around it the soot was loose, easily picked up by the wind. It''s shape was distinctly human.


    Not just the one either. Dozens of spots nearby looked identical. Where we stood now had at one point been where a couple dozen Rotters had laid down for who knew how long. Until the Councilman''s son disturbed them that was.


    ''Twenty men couldn''t defend him against one hundred undead. They panicked and got surrounded. Got lead towards the city. Rotters have a herd mentality. Leading the food towards their friends. Like cattle.''


    As Holom explained what we were dealing with to Collifer, I spotted a rather plump corpse down the hill, perhaps half way to the city. It was easy enough to make out. Dead City''s are cursed to say the least. Time seems to just stop around them. At least preventing anything from regrowing. That just made it easy to spot the dead soldier. Fresh. Killed recently though parts of him appeared to be missing. Most likely food for the Rotters that chased them.


    ''Master, down there.'' I pointed to the corpse.


    ''One of your soldiers?'' He asked the Councilman. His soldiers began to panic as they hadn''t even noticed their dead ally. Too caught up in the horror of the city to care.


    ''Yes.....I can see the colors....gold and green.'' Collifer appeared to shake, fearing for his life. I saw it in his eyes. There was yet more to his tale. More than just a little boys curiosity and I suspected my Master could see it as well but neither of us would broach the topic. Whatever family squabbles the noblemen of Syn had was their own business. We just killed monsters.


    ''Listen, there is still a chance your son is alive. But the longer we wait the greater the chance he will be dead before we find him.''


    ''What do you suggest, Master Slayer?'' The Councilman asked.


    ''Agarn and I will take the lead, you shall remain in the middle with your knights. The footmen should remain in a column behind us. Only two soldiers wide.''


    ''Two wide?'' One of the knights questioned the decision. Truthfully I could see why, it spread their ability to face a frontal attack in any short amount of time. But that was a military decision against humans. We weren''t facing humans.


    ''Only! We need them to trail behind like a snake. Step only where we step. We can''t risk garnering the attention of the Rotters that haven''t been disturbed.''


    The knight did not seem to take my Master''s command very well. He challenged it even. ''Sir Collifer, you can not think us incapable of doing this ourselves. We can just charge in and find your son. A few walking corpses can not match our steel.''


    ''And who are you?'' Master Holom''s voice turned grave. He didn''t enjoy talking to the ignorant or fools. He much preferred the company of wise men which in this case, the knight was not.


    ''Ser Timur Aldwin. Lead military strategist to the House Collifer.''


    ''And lead fool by the likes of it. You suggest charging head long into a city filled with the undead and damned. Thousands of Rotters, Woxen, Lantern Men and worse things even Slayers fear. A hundred Slayers couldn''t take the city and certainly not less than seventy men who already quake in their boots.''


    ''You do not speak to me of our abilities. Sir Collifer. This man is a cheat. The Slayers are nothing more than book worms. Their skills nothing more than an average footman''s. We can take this.''


    The Councilman eyed me for a moment, trying to think of an answer that would appease his bloodthirsty knight. Timur Aldwin. An unknown name, surely he just wanted to prove himself. Find some worth to his name. But that sort of greed was a liability. A risk to the job as a whole. If it were up to me, I would just tie him to the post so he''s out of harm''s way and out of ours. Master would have mostly likely agreed.


    ''We follow the Master''s words. If I had thought we could do this alone I wouldn''t have sent for him.''


    ''Glad to see the House Collifer still sees logic above all else.''


    ''Yes.....'' The Councilman let his words trail in a way that just made me distrust him. Holom''s grip on his reigns tightened and I knew he noticed it too. ''


    ''Then have your men do as I say. Also, it may be wise for them not to disturb any of the bodies on the ground. Rotters tend to remain mostly dormant. But even still it''s wise not to disrupt their sleep. In fact do not touch anything dead. There exist many diseases that could lead to a painful death. Often carried by Rotters.''


    ''Of course. Anything else?'' The Councilman did not seem all that interested in debating terms.


    ''If you should by any means awaken a Rotter, take it out. Quickly and as quietly as possible. Upon transformation they develop very large vocal sacks. Capable of spitting highly caustic bile but most importantly can emit a high pitched sound like an alarm that awakens any nearby Rotters.''


    The head knight looked at Master confused. ''Caustic bile? I heard you say they weren''t dangerous alone.''


    ''They aren''t. Rotters are fast and vicious but any trained Slayer would know how to deal with one.'' My Master wasn''t one to cut corners or sweeten his words. The knight knew the implication. That he was weak. His facial expression showed the anger. I just found it humorous.


    ''Then what of your apprentice. Surely even he runs risk of being a liability.''


    ''I trust in my apprentice''s skill. Soon he will take the Trial of Glass and all the land will know him as a Slayer, someone of superior skill to even you, Knight.''


    ''Watch your tongue or I will cut it from your head, Sinner!'' I could feel my lips curl with anger at the term. Without realizing it I felt the oak wood pommel of my sword caress my palm, fingers wrapped around it ready to draw at a moments notice.


    Sinner. A slur against Slayers. Used to denounce us as abominations in the eyes of the One Faith. It was after all dictated in the Blood Charter that all Slayers be recruited from the ranks of heretics and criminals. Or in rare cases, war orphans such as myself. It was to prevent noblemen or people with valuable skills from joining our brotherhood and forsaking their former lives. And dying in the process. Not to say I don''t blame that line of thinking but it hasn''t helped our reputation.


    ''If I might interject Master, let me kill this fool and feed him to the damn Rotters.'' I felt the blade gently glide out from it''s sheath, a pure witch steel sword with various inscribed ruins glowing in the day''s waning sunlight.


    It was my sword. The one given to me by the Coven, imbued with magic and a special steel. Neither of which was I familiar with. Nor will I ever be. Only the Witches and our smith knew how to construct the blade. All I know is it''s etched runes allowed the sword to damage creatures otherwise impervious to normal weapons.


    ''I would like to see you try!'' Aldwin drew his sword but enough was enough. Collifer''s eyes flickered frantically from me to him until finally he gave a hushed growl.


    ''Stop it! The both of you. This is not happening! No! Not now, not when so much is on the line!''


    The Councilman did his best to remain in control of his yelling, eyes beat red trying to hold back the tears. The anxious feelings that overwhelmed him helped remind me why we were there and that as a Slayer, a professional, I had stepped over the line. A little boy needed saving and we were there to do just that.


    I looked at Master briefly seeing the pride in his eyes. He did not care for that term and would have let me cut the knight into bits if it came to it but we had a job to do.


    ''Then if this is settled let us go. Every wasted second here is another second the Councilman''s son comes closer to death.''


    ''Yes, let us.'' Aldwin did agree on that front. At least in my opinion he wasn''t a complete fool although his sideways glances at Holom got on my nerves.


    ''Knights with Sir Collifer follow us and the footmen will trail them. Neat line, two wide. Nothing more. Do not touch anything. Remain quiet and follow orders.'' Master reigned his horse into a trot down the gentle slop until he was taking the lead, I quickly followed.


    It was odd to be the head of a military column, often just relegated to traveling with my Master. Or sometimes alone if the particular job didn''t require both of us. Rather, I didn''t require Holom''s supervision which I was pleased to recognize had become almost non existent aside from a few outstandingly difficult jobs. This being one of them.


    I wonder what would happen if they failed. Then again I also wonder what will happen if we succeed. Will it be a clean job? No casualties? Even the Councilman was at risk joining us. Not that I blame him. Plenty of parents have wanted to assist in finding their loved ones. But aside from security factors I hate bringing them with me for the simple fact I have no idea how to comfort a mother that find''s her son''s disemboweled body hanging from a tree. I didn''t sleep that night or the week that followed. We might act like monsters, doesn''t mean we are.


    ''Master?'' I nabbed his attention with a quiet hush.


    ''Yes, Agarn.''


    ''I feel as though the good councilman isn''t telling us the whole story.'' I glance wearily back at the thin man on his thin horse. ''He''s hiding something.''


    ''They''re always hiding something, Agarn. Noblemen tend to be scheming, conniving little weasels willing to do anything to further their standing.''


    ''Are any of them good?'' I ask.


    Master eyed me for a second, the waning sunlight reflecting off his white beard. Dancing through his tussled brown hair. With errant strands of gray poking through.


    ''A few.'' He finally told me. ''A few good ones among the many rotten. Though often times they will never show it for fear of displaying weakness in front of those who might take advantage. Be wary, apprentice. The politics of Kings and Generals is not the playground for Slayers, do not engage or allow yourself to be caught in the middle of it.''


    ''Are we caught now, Sir?'' I ask him, for I felt we were already being used to further an end at the Councilman''s behest.


    Holom glanced back at Collifer as well. ''All I see is a man riddled with fear. It''s so real I can almost taste it.''


    ''Then he truly is afraid for his son.'' I smile thinking the Councilman to be fraught over his child, but I was wrong. Holom quickly pointed out why.


    ''No, Agarn. A man who fears for the safety of his family does not act like an addict going through withdrawal waiting for his next take. No, he would be strong as was necessary to save his family.''


    After Holom mentioned it I began to see the twitchy eye movement. His fingers played with each other endlessly, his lips trembling as if ready to speak or even shout at a moments notice. Dark semi circles hung under his eyes, skin seemed pale and thin as if emaciated. In fact they all looked malnourished. The knights held themselves proudly so I hadn''t noticed at first, but the footmen looked like dead men walking. And I''ve seen dead men walk.


    ''Sir, Collifer''s men. They-,''


    ''Famine. I heard it had hit Collifer''s lands but to think it affected the military arm. Losing his son wouldn''t just affect him but the moral of his people. In such trying times to lose the heir to a house would cripple it''s ability to recover. There would be no hope.''


    ''Then not just the boy''s life but the fate of his House and it''s subjects rest on returning him alive and well? That would explain the guards the Councilman thought were necessary and why he chose to come along himself.''


    ''Yes. Though why he would still allow his one and only heir to come, even with an escort, to the outskirts of a dead city. There''s a reason the King has forbidden anyone from messing with them. Who knows what lays in wait. Even killers and scavengers alike avoid dead cities. But I would be lying if I said there wasn''t some appeal to at least seeing one in your life time.'' Holom looked over the growing visage of Iory, it''s grandstanding towers flanking it''s main gate a mere pebble of stone to the great monoliths they once were.


    The sun set beyond it''s highest peak, Collifer Castle, where James''s House originated. It was once one of the grander castles in it''s day. High peaks, various wings, multiple courtyards and gardens atop it''s high rise foundation letting the city sweep out from underneath it.


    I took a moment to remark on it''s beauty, how massive the castle was yet still dwarfed by the sheer scale of Iory itself. Hundreds of thousands of souls must have lived there once. Now I couldn''t help but shudder to imagine all of them serving the Undead Lords. Beings that no one has ever seen but their control is all too real. It wasn''t my first Dead City but I certainly hoped it would be my last.


    I swallowed hard feeling my shadow overtaken by that of the castle wall''s. Even half crumbled the wall was as imposing as it was during it''s hayday. I shuddered noticing the abrupt change in temperature. Just that alone was enough to create a small sense of panic among the footmen. Though I was glad to see the knights undisturbed.


    ''Master, if you do not mind. May I ride before the footmen? Having a Slayer at their lead might coax a bit more bravery from them.'' It was worth a shot. Though often looked down upon I found most people felt safer around us when dealing with beings of supernatural qualities.


    Holom was quiet for a moment, his eyes fixed on the edges of the wall. Parts of it had collapsed entirely creating new avenues in and conversely multiple lanes of escape. At least that part was covered in the likely event of failure.


    ''Go ahead, Agarn. Make sure they stick together and don''t touch anything.'' The footmen began to mutter a tad bit louder than what we felt was comfortable. ''And keep them quiet. I''d rather not do this with a legion of rotters on our heels.''


    ''Understood, Master.'' Happily I reared my horse just enough to turn and canter past the councilman and his knights, all of whom seemed quite arrogant in their abilities. A part of me wanted to jolt the nearest rotters and watch them tangle but that would have been more detrimental than helpful.


    Rather I took a position just between the knights and the footmen who diligently walked in rows of two. Spears thrust out to the sides their grips weak from barely contained panic. Surely if any rotters charged into the group a few might find themselves skewered but most would ignore or even snap the weapons.


    ''Who made your spear?'' I asked the nearest footman. His deep eyes stared up at me, afraid. They had dark semi circles clinging to the bottom lid where lack of sleep gave him a sunken look.


    ''Forgesmith Herle from Tomae. He''s a friend of the family. Gave me a good rate on it too!'' The man eyed his spear, it''s ornate etchings just below the base of the head. Nothing fancy but enough to distinguish it.


    ''How''s it''s weight?'' I ask just trying to keep some small talk going in the hopes it might ease their nerves.


    ''Oh, well, it''s a bit awkward. The head is too heavy for the pole, makes stabbing a bit awkward.''


    I cocked my head. ''Then why not slash?''


    ''Slash? With a spear? Are you crazy?''


    I grinned forgetting that most footmen never advance their martial skills beyond the basic maneuvers. Which I always found very odd considering the standard equipment for most footmen was in fact the spear. I thought they would at least try to educate their soldiers. Maybe that was just my own training with the Slayers. Looking out over the desolate field, the Rotters laying in hibernation just feet away from where they walked; they would need those skills.


    ''I was just trained differently. Anyways how are the others? They seem a little...'' I paused watching one of the footmen vomit violently into his hands trying to maintain pace.


    ''Nervous, sir.'' The footman stretched his use of the title. I guess it was because Slayers didn''t really fit in the normal hierarchy of society.


    ''Yes...nervous.''


    ''Dead Cities-,'' The Footman held up his trembling hands. ''Just the thought alone gets the best of us. I have no idea how you Slayers do it.''


    ''Usually with an army at our backs.'' I told him.


    ''Ah.'' The footman paused for a moment. ''Sir?''


    ''Yeah?'' I couldn''t help but notice the desperation in his voice.


    ''I don''t think this is a good idea.'' He admitted to me. Though I think everyone held that same opinion.


    ''Infiltrating a Dead City with just a handful of men not even trained for this stuff to find a kid that may or may not be dead? Yeah I don''t really think there''s anything wrong with that.'' I jested scratching my brow but the pressure was quite clear.


    ''It''s not just that, Sir. The lord. He ain''t right.'' The footman spaced off for a moment staring at his liege. He retrained his focus on me. ''They say he locks himself up in his room for days on end. Not eating. Not sleeping. Talking.''


    ''Talking?'' I already knew what that meant. I just hoped the footman wouldn''t confirm my suspicions.


    ''To himself. He''s lost it. Cooped up in his room, talking to himself. Now this business with the Dead City. There''s something wrong here, Slayer. Something very wrong.'' He didn''t just speak from idle fear but legitimate concern.


    ''I appreciate you sharing this with me.'' I mused over what to say before deciding. ''What''s your name?''


    ''Djerik, Sir.''


    ''Jerik?'' I cocked an eyebrow.


    ''Yeah, but it''s spelled with a D out front. It''s weird. Where I''m from in the western fjords that''s how we do things.''


    ''Okay, Djerik. Stick with myself or my master. You''ll make it through this. If there is more to this than what it appears then don''t worry. We''ll handle it. Just as it''s your job to protect your land it''s ours to kill monsters.''


    ''I''ll be honest, Sir. Your words do little to comfort me but I guess the thought helps. An extra sword is always an extra sword.''


    ''If that makes this easier, then so be it.'' I grinned but quickly felt that strange arrogance of mine wither away as we approached the city. ''Oh, Shit....''  I murmured.


    Master Holom had stopped just short of the gaping hole in Iory''s wall. He thumbed his chin, waiting for something to stir but nothing did. The city was quiet. That just made things more eerie.


    ''Agarn!'' Master called to me and I galloped up to his side.


    ''Master? What''s wrong?''


    ''Rotters, strewn across the street ahead. We''re gonna have to clear them out. Quietly.''


    ''Yes, yes, all sneaky like. I get it, Master.'' I peered into the gloom just beyond the wall, the street littered with stone and cobwebs. And corpses. ''Any Shamblers?''


    ''Not that I can see. If there are any they''ll just be waiting in the empty shops.'' He was quick to point out not without a hint of reservation.


    ''Right. Walk by houses possibly filled with zombies while trying to quietly take out Rotters. It''ll be our own personal audience.'' I looked back at the Councilman and his soldiers. ''Not counting them of course.''


    ''Alright, dismount, go about it.'' Holom told me with a shoo of his hand. I drew my sword wandering to the nearest corpse. Behind me I could hear Master tell the councilman they had to dismount if they wished to continue.


    Dipping the glowing edge into the corpse''s throat I watched it''s eyes pop open, alive but ultimately dead both in nature and from my sword.  Then I wandered to the next, and the next before a dozen dead Rotters lay behind me directly in the column''s path. I waved my sword for them to follow.


    Collifer lead them in, his hands clasped tightly together. Some strange tick of his it appeared for dealing with his nerves. I just thought the action made him look like a sniveling weasel.


    ''Agarn, keep the way ahead clear.''


    ''Gotcha....''


    I drove my sword into a shambler''s chest violently wrenching it free making sure it was dead. A sudden creak caught my attention. To my left a door beside me swung open revealing the shambling form of a Rotter standing tall, organs spilled out from it''s gutted belly. The vile stench of excrement and death attacked my nostrils.


    In a fluid motion before the creature could even register my existence I twirled my sword into a deep slash that decapitated the undead man. Swinging it back in a flurry I cleaved it''s torso in two sending it plummeting to the ground. Blood spilling everywhere I stepped back to avoid it. Disgustingly you could see the vapors pouring off the ichor.


    ''Well that was close and....disgusting..'' I commented putting my cuff to my nose, smelling the leather gauntlet. I actually hated that strange sterile smell but it was better than the Rotter.


    I waved my sword towards Holom who advanced the column leaving me to continue clearing the road. It''s deep gray cobblestone caked in dried blood coupled with pus or some sort of ooze. My feet alone waded a thin trail through the mess building up on the sides of my boots. Every so often I stopped to shave off the muck with my sword.


    Then I heard a snap. A strangely deep snap that sounded dull like it came from a great distance. Looking back the column moved untouched, unaware of the sound. But I heard it and I did not like it. Then I heard it again, this time two consecutive snaps, but upon further contemplation I realized they were thuds. Like someone had tossed a rock down a deep crevice waiting to hear it bounce off the bottom.


    I grew worried. I thought immediately of informing Holom but I couldn''t shout, not when another strange thud danced along the street''s walls coming towards me. I turned to walk back greeted by a familiar face.


    Djerik and a few others had wandered up to him. Their shoulders hunched low as if that made them harder to spot. Tensed and spears held at the ready none of them looked fit for battle yet alone the undead.


    ''Djerik, what are you doing?'' I asked him, the man''s eyes shifting. His fear so real and alive it made me impatient.


    The footman turned to me. ''Sir Collifer grew nervous seeing you stop. He sent us up to make sure everything was alright.'' His voice was almost so low it was a faint whisper.


    ''Really?'' I tensed in annoyance, looked back at the column, the distant sight of the councilman eyeing me fiddling with something in his pocket sent tingles down my spine. I didn''t like it but I had no say in the matter. ''Fine. Don''t be stupid.''


    One of the footman shuffled up to a window. His curiosity getting the better of him. Just as he could pierce the gloom inside a rotten face snapped against the window. A shambler, it''s teeth gnawing believing it could bite through the glass. The lowest of the low undead. They were just to pad their numbers but Slayers were always taught to be wary. For where there was one there was always a hundred more.


    That''s when I discovered the source of that thud. Another shambler landed on the cobblestone beside the man in the street. He almost screamed but I was happy to see his training at least stopped him from doing that much. Or maybe he was just too terrified to make a sound.


    The unintelligent beast had killed itself upon arrival. But as I or any slayer knew, there were always more. Suddenly another body fell from the sky tumbling out of the three story house, a shop built out of it''s ground floor. Then another. The smack of it''s skull splitting on the cobblestone was unmistakable.


    I realized they were moving, though I did not think it was due to our arrival. They just seemed to be mindlessly wandering which was odd. The Undead unless commanded to move usually just sat in one spot until something happened. Something big and that something wasn''t us.


    I looked back down the street at Holom. His face contorted, brow raised at an angle perplexed at our situation. He saw them fall before I did. A handful st first then more.


    ''Get back to the column, we should stick together.'' I told them.


    ''I would agree with the Slayer.'' Djerik began to back away with his fellow footmen. A growing unease knotting their stomachs that much was obvious. Their small bowl helmets almost dipping over their eyes they held their heads so low.


    ''Then let''s be quick about it.'' I suggest hearing a chorus of thuds rain against the road around the corner.


    The sound becoming thick as opposed to flesh on rock. I immediately knew bodies piled upon bodies lessening the chance of death on impact. My fears became founded when I spotted a zombie shamble around the corner. Then another followed with two more after that.


    ''Get back!'' I yelled realizing that something had screwed us over. Hiding now was pointless. I looked back and Holom had organized the column into a box with shields protecting them on all sides.


    In an instant we had pulled back but that didn''t matter. My attention drawn elsewhere I could not notice the wall of undead that had gathered inside one of the buildings between us and the column. The building burst forth loosing it''s horde of zombies but they piled out unsteady and carnivorous. All but one.


    A rotter emerged from the group, taller and more bloated, it''s throat bulging with acidic bile. There was no time to stop it. I could only grab the nearest solider, Djerik, with my free hand and pull him into the nearest building crashing through it''s rotted wooden door before the creature played it''s hand.


    Despite the groans emitted from the decayed vocal chords of shamblers and rotters alike we could still hear the men screaming as acid boiled their flesh melting down to the bone. My heart became overwhelmed when I heard that not all of the five men perished instantly but some became the feast of the shamblers. Ripped apart. Internal organs gorged on.


    Their screams slowly died out. Voices overcome by the howling and groaning. I kicked the front door shut hearing nails scrap against it''s surface. By some miracle the iron lock had fell into place which gave Djerik and I time to get to our feet.


    ''No. No. No. NO! This isn''t happening. I''m not dying here!'' Djerik began to spout drivel like a madman. Not that I blamed him. A horde of undead knocking at your front could get the best of most men.


    Maybe it was fear then that caused the footman to hunch over vomiting. Violent specks of bile shooting in every direction. I tried my best to avoid it''s touch but being covered in blood had already limited my desire to remain clean.


    ''I don''t want to die. I have a wife and child!'' He admitted shaking.


    I looked at him. His young face, clean shaven. ''You''re married?''


    The footman backed against a wall trying to balance himself. ''No...''


    ''Then why?''


    ''Cause there''s fucking undead outside that god damned door you fucking nitwit. I''ll say anything  if it means I live.''


    I frowned. ''Good lord, get a grip.''


    ''No!'' Djerik charged me grabbing my collar. ''You get a grip. You fucking fool. I''m not dying here. I''m a god damn foot soldier. I hold a spear and shield. That''s my weapon. I stab things! You hear that, I fucking poke things to death! What a fucking valuable life! I''m not dying yer when I''m only worth this much.''


    ''Okay, shit has only just started to pour downhill. How about you freak out closer to the end of this fucking ordeal. I don''t need your bullshit!''


    ''Oh, says the fucking Slayer. Built, sharp as cold nipples sword. Fuck you!'' Djerik spat at me.


    ''Fuck you! I didn''t have to save you-,'' The door began to buckle, ''Oh, fuck....'' I twirled my sword preparing for a fight. The window pressed by the shadows of a hundred ravenous zombies I began to see splatters of blood cascade across it''s glass.


    ''Agarn!'' I heard a familiar voice roar.


    ''Master Holom?'' I called back.


    ''Get out here, Slayer.'' He ordered.


    ''Djerik, stay close.'' I told the soldier.


    At his behest I shoulder charged the door pushing back into the crowd finding myself surrounded on all sides. There might have been a time where I would have been helpless to defend myself against such an overwhelming number of attackers but my sword was no longer slow.


    It flashed silver decapitating four before I cut clean through another set. Shortly a dozen shamblers lay dead at my feet, then another and another until my sword no longer needed to be swung. I had rejoined the column in quick fashion, the footman remained with me the entire way.


    ''Master Holom?'' I charged to the front fighting at his side.


    ''Agarn, Vishnurr''s grace, what the hell happened?''


    ''Something disturbed them, Sir. We walked straight into the belly of the beast without realizing it was already awake.''


    ''Ah, fuck!'' Master shouted, his pretense for graceful words lost in the heat of battle.


    ''Master Slayers!'' Sir Collifer called from the safety of his knight''s line, a second box built within the footmen.


    ''Councilman? What is it?'' Holom did not inflect any niceties to his words. He sounded very pissed off.


    ''What do we do?'' He asked aware that his men were dying at a rapid rate.


    ''We''re not far into the city we turn back while we still can.''


    ''No!'' The Councilman shouted. Though their attention should have been on fighting I could tell a few soldiers were listening. A few murmurs of dissent crept through the front line.


    It didn''t take long for all pretense of formality to escape my Master''s manners. He turned on the spot rushed through the knights and grabbed the councilman by the collar.


    ''What is wrong with you? It''s suicide to continue!''


    I would have expected the knights to stop him but an influx of shamblers breaking through the front line had them very much preoccupied.


    ''Hands off, Slayer!'' The councilman ordered but his thin frame could not do anything against Holom''s trained body.


    ''You''re going to send these men to their death if you don''t turn back now. Is that what a good leader does?''


    ''I want my son! And you have a job to do....Sinner. By the King''s Grace and by the money in your pocket. Or would you like your coven purged?'' The creep grinned catching Master in a moment of doubt.


    ''Fine!'' He growled eventually looking around him then releasing Collifer. ''Then we have to split up. Choose a handful of knights to come with us. The rest will stay here and distract the horde. But...they will work their way out of the city. It should give us enough time to get deeper in.''


    The councilman cast his eyes away. He did not like that idea but the pressing horde gave him no time to debate. His soldiers that he evidently brought as nothing more than fodder would live if they fought smart getting out of the city. Meanwhile Master and I would be going deeper in with a maniac.


    ''Agarn, get ready. We''re breaking away!'' Holom approached the right wing of our forces, cutting through a swath of determined shamblers. Their hungry moans cut short, souls finally unburdened by undeath. ''Councilman, Knights, stay with me.''


    I paused for a moment wondering why he didn''t relegate that to me but realized he trusted me to follow. That he valued my skill to survive alone. Holom had already pressed through into an adjacent alleyway.


    Slowly I could feel the tide of soldiers and undead changing. No longer pushing forward but gradually fighting back towards the wall. If they fought well and stayed together it wouldn''t take long but if they let even a single break in their lines the undead would take advantage.


    I turned to Djerik who began to cling to me. The man appeared to be a few years older than I yet his eyes looked to be a fearful child''s. I''d already saved him once and oddly he still had a better chance surviving coming with me.


    ''Djerik, get ready you''re coming with me.'' He looked over the brim of his shield with joy before I dragged him into the alleyway.


    A few stray undead shambled towards me but they died easy enough. I looked out over the length of the dark passage, bodies slain by Master littered it''s corners. A few that refused to accept death struggled to their feet or crawled ripping fingernails from flesh. Quickly I dispatched them, Djerik at my back his shield raised nervously towards the main street.


    ''You don''t have to worry.'' I told him.


    ''Yes, yes, I do Slayer. Any moment they''ll be streaming through and I''ll be here to block them.''


    ''Except they won''t.''


    ''Yes, yes they will.'' He stuttered afraid.


    ''Djerik, undead hordes only chase down larger populations of the living. That''s why those soldiers are serving as a distraction. They won''t bother to come after us for awhile. But there might be a few stragglers, so stick close.''


    ''You don''t have to tell me twice. Go with the Slayers or stay with the army waiting to die. Logical choice.''


    ''The logical choice was leaving. And I don''t think the army is going to die. We''re not far from the wall. They''ll make it back.''


    Dejrik gave me a concerned look. His eyes glossy with fear. ''Sir Collifer doesn''t see it that way. Before you arrived he gave his Knights orders that no matter what they were to force the footmen forward even if it meant killing them.''


    I stopped walking just to mull over what I heard. For some strange reason it froze my veins. It was as if there was some underlying desperation to this that far extended past a father''s motivation. Something felt sinister.


    As the horde began to move my body could feel it. Trembling, my hand grippedthe black leather of my handle so tightly my knuckles turned white. There was more to this and I was powerless to stop whatever was happening, or worse, what was going to happen. I only hoped my Master saw it long before I did otherwise I didn''t believe any of us were making it out alive.


    ''Slayer?'' Djerik prodded me with the edge of his thin shield.


    I shook my head. ''Nothing, come on. Let''s catch up.''


    Our journey brought us through wooden alleys. Houses built so close together I could span my arms out and touch either side with just my fingertips. A few sky bridges, rotten wood as our only path creaking underneath our feet, served as excellent vantage points to survey the city.


    Not one building stood shorter than three stories. The entire city makeup vertical beyond belief such that certain parts were only accessible vie these rickety sky bridges from a tower built around a giant wooden staircase. Were everything not in horrid disrepair it might have been a marvel.


    Yet in every corner danger lurked. The undead awaited their meals, quiet, calculating, letting them fall deeper and deeper into the trap. He was almost sure they hid from view simply not to arouse suspicion but that time passed long ago. Their presence stole away the city''s beauty.


    Every door was another portal beyond which held the horde. Every scratch on the wall, every creak, every moan heard from distant echos played with my nerves. I could feel the hair''s on my neck stick up as stiff as iron.


    Djerik held his shield at the ready. Constantly on the vigil. Though I doubt that was from any tactical superiority. I figured he just felt safer having a piece of wood between him and whatever was trying to tear his throat out.


    Holom and Sir Collifer sauntered on ahead. The knights acting as a sort of wedge should anything get in their way. The lord grew more and more erratic. Which was why I had Djerik and myself guard the rear. I didn''t want to be anywhere near that sort of crazy when it came undone.


    ''This is pointless without clues, Councilman...'' Holom was quick to warn.


    ''The spire....yes, yes, the central spire. I told him stories of it as a child. He would have nowhere else to go but somewhere familiar. That- that''s the most familiar place he has Sinner...''


    My master''s eyebrow cocked in confusion. The good councilman had used Slayer to be gracious and honorable but his casual use of the word Sinner seemed very misplaced. It was bereft of anger or malice. The man''s thoughts were obviously far gone. I wanted to chalk it up to a father''s worry but there was something more. Just beyond the surface that made me sweat nervously.


    ''Then we are to go to the Central Spire?'' Holom repeated needing to make one hundred percent sure of their destination.


    His heavy step pressed into a particularly rotten board that he feared might give way sending him to the cobblestone street below. Through it''s windows I could see the street was empty but the fall and subsequent sound would be dangerous. Master froze for a second as well all heard it. The bridge shudder.


    The councilman kept himself and his knights moving well ahead of my master, unaware that he had frozen in a predicament. He feared to move deciding best to remain still.


    ''Do you need help, Master?'' I asked.


    ''Nooo, I am perfectly fine, Agarn. Just don''t come over here.''


    ''And you don''t move!'' I jested watching him twitch that caused the wood to creak then the bridge shuddered again. ''Master? That''s not you is it?''


    Holom stared at the ceiling, thin beams of lights shining through it''s broken roof. The light beams cut out as if something large passed over them, multiple things darting over it''s surface.


    ''Master? What-,'' Before I could finish his hand shot up telling me to stop.


    Then we heard the howls. Deep and guttural almost like a battle horn. Scratching at your insides in ways you didn''t even think imaginable.


    ''Woxen!'' Holom shouted to me just as the roof collapsed.


    A long skeletal arm thrust down trying to grab him but my master was too fast, his sword cut clean through the monster''s arm but such a wound did not phase the creature. Nor did it prevent his pack from continuing their attack.


    All at once gargantuan monsters, bone revealed, viscera glistening in the waning light crashed through the roof causing the bridge to lose all stability and plummet to the street below. Everyone in it fell with the woxen recovering first.


    I watched them jump to their feet. At least six of them stood in their undead glory. At least seven feet tall their two mouths, one on top of the other, flashed spiny teeth that could rip through steel. As was common with woxen their chests were just gaping holes where you could see inside to the spine. Two sets of eyes stared at them, slowly picking apart a few of the knights that struggled to get up in their armor.


    Rubble stabbed by back, leather armor doing little to mitigate it''s rough edges. Wooden splinters lined my right arm traveling up it''s length, my black coat doing nothing there either. It was as if this material meticulously crafted to withstand swords and monster fangs or claws somehow lost all of it''s capabilities the moment it faced splinters.


    ''Fuck me!'' I exclaimed reeling.


    The reddening sky above seeping through the now shattered sky bridge. Woxen hounded the knights, howling, charging. When one turned his back or found himself even a few feet removed from the formation they would find themselves dragged into the shadows far away to be ripped apart, slowly, painfully.


    Woxen did not kill their victims outright. They played with them. Like dogs to a master but in this case the dog was seven feet tall with claws that could cut through steel and a hunger that was never sated. They were know to string up their victims, cut open their stomachs and dance in the blood as though it were rain. Some say it was a ritual, Slayers, we, knew better. They were simply monsters.


    ''Djerik!'' I shouted for the footman, this battle well beyond his skill. But as I searched the street, it''s barrenness really struck me. He was nowhere to be found and neither was the Councilman or that Knight Aldwin.


    ''Holom!'' I shouted for my master ducking a few swipes from a couple young woxen, easier to tell for their shorter limbs and blacker hair that grows whiter with age. I planted my sword into the chest of one before I withdrew in haste to cut off the arm of another.


    Their timing as a pack was off. They really were new and that made my job of killing them more difficult. They didn''t have a pattern like the adults. They were wild, uncontrolled, succumbing to a blood lust that drove their actions.


    Another dodge and the woxen''s claw gouged out the side of his friend behind me. They roared at each other but I cut their grievances short beheading them both. My back turned for but a moment three more young woxen saw it as opportunity charging in all at once. They never made it to me. One fumbled over the other and the third stopped distracted my his friend''s bickering. I killed the one that paused before killing the two that saw fit to bicker in front of me.


    Their aggression was getting them killed. Any adult pack would have used one maybe two to bide their time, push me into a corner where the third would be waiting in ambush. But the young ones wanted glory to themselves. They didn''t want to share the kill. This was their undoing.


    It didn''t take long to mop up the pack. Most of them young, a few adult here or there but no Alpha. Without an alpha to coordinate even the adults could not control the young. It would be like a dog trying to be the queen of a bee colony. It fundamentally did not work.


    ''Master Holom!'' I shouted towards the Slayer his sword plunged three chests deep into a trio of woxen. They had fallen over practically dead, he was just making sure.


    ''Agarn!'' My master shouted to me a hint of nonchalance in his voice. He expected me to survive. I walked up to him wiping the length of my blade on my thigh. ''Where''s your footman buddy?''


    ''Presumably dead, like the knights. I think some of them got dragged off.'' My only hint being the lack of bodies.


    ''I think the Councilman and Knight Aldwin ran.'' Holom groaned. ''That piece of shit...'' He grit his teeth as we both heard a knocking sound. Then a moan as a nearby piece of wood gave in revealing a rather stunned Djerik.


    ''So the footman lives.'' Holom jested as I ran to the man lifting him under his armpit.


    ''The Councilman,-'' Djerik tried to speak but coughed himself into a fit. ''The Councilman ran with Aldwin and a few others.''


    ''We figured that. Most have finally lost his nerve and ran back South to the wall.'' I reasoned thinking they''d gone South.


    ''No. Not South. North. He ran North. I heard him say to leave you both behind. And me, not that I''m useful either way. Fucking prick....'' Djerik plucked his shield from the ground slung it over his back and picked up a sword one of the knight must have lost from the fall. A vastly superior option over his spear.


    ''North? Why would the Councilman head deeper into Iory without the Slayers?'' I wondered what drove Collifer''s madness.


    ''Desperate for his son, perhaps?'' Djerik shrugged. ''All I know is I heard him explicitly say to leave you two behind. And me. Though he didn''t actually mention me. I think it''s implied.''


    ''Sir Collifer is gambling on something. What it is? I have no idea. And the more I think about it the more I consider cutting this mission as a loss and leaving.'' Master scratched his chin. The options weighing on his mind. The advantages; the disadvantages.


    ''My curiosity wants to know....'' I grin then realize the danger in it. ''Maybe we should call this off. I''m all for saving the man''s son but whatever the larger game is I''d rather not take part in it.''


    I look over to Djerik fiddling with the straps on his armor. He reared his head with a look of boredom.


    ''Hey I don''t care what you choose. I''m sticking with you Slayers. Fucking Collifer left me behind too.''


    ''Then you''re coming with us to the Central Spire.'' Holom told the footman confirming his decision. ''We have a job to do and whatever the Councilman is planning or thinking in what I hope to be his delirious state I will not leave a child alone in this damned city.''


    ''If the child is in fact real. Or, you know; alive.'' The footman stated under his breath which both Holom and I heard. We would have called him a cynic but he was just voicing our thoughts.


    ''Is there any reason for the child to not be real?'' Holom asked Djerik.


    ''No. I''m just saying. Maybe the son was never here at all.''


    I stood stunned for a moment. ''That would really fucking suck.''  I didn''t sugarcoat my words.


    ''Then let''s make sure we finish this job quickly and without further casualties. Come, Agarn and -,'' Holom stared at the footman.


    ''Djerik, Master Slayer.'' The footman told him.


    ''Djerik then. If you decide to stay with us I only ask you stay out of our way.''


    ''Not a problem!'' The man smiled.


    We moved out in unison. Djerik decided it wise to walk between both Holom and I. Between two slayers. There was probably no safer place in a monster infested city. What troubled us was the lack of interference as we made our way to the central spire. It''s gold crested roof shining in the failing light.


    ''Is the Central Spire a church?'' I asked Djerik.


    ''Yeah, how''d you know?''


    ''The ornamentation on the spire. Looks religious.'' I didn''t like Churches. It always reeked of the Faith. Those pompous pricks touting their Gods, defacing our shrines to Vishnurr. How the mere thought rose my ire like nothing else. And we could do nothing to retaliate.


    ''Sounds like you''re not a religious man.'' Djerik pointed out.


    ''I am. Just not to the One Faith. Slayers are all followers of Vishnurr.''


    The footman looked away. ''Oh.... Isn''t that the false god?''


    I shot him a dirty look. There was this common occurrence where followers of the Faith, namely every citizen of Sin, disregarded the Slayer''s chosen god, Vishnurr, the God of Death. Believing his tenants and values to be a sham by a fake god created by us Sinners. The reality was vastly different but I never bothered to try and educate the ignorant. Vishnurr was our god and we worshiped him and his value for free will. Ironic considering Slayers were bound to the Blood Charter.


    Just the mere thought of that damn scroll garnered the ire of all Slayers. It was a contract of sorts. After the Coalition of Crowns, the war that nearly wiped Slayers out four hundred years ago, we signed it as insurance of our survival but were locked to it''s whim.


    If we ever tried to work beyond it''s constraints, ignoring the tenants of the Carter our coven would be purged by the King''s Army to prevent any Slayers from operating outside King''s law. Should anyone believe we were free to do as we wished well they were dead wrong.


    ''He''s our God, just let this matter be.'' I asked Djerik.


    ''No matter, you saved my life. I have no reason to question your faith not that ours is much better honestly.''


    ''Fair point. You''re a good man Djerik. If I could get you out of harm''s way I would.'' It was a promise even I wasn''t sure I could keep but perhaps it gave the man some piece of mind. His frowning smile did little to tell me it did.


    ''I appreciate the sentiment.''


    Holom quickened his pace, something got to him. He felt it though I did not. It was his instinct after years upon years of training and slaying monsters. He knew something was wrong but couldn''t quite put his finger on it. Djerik and I simply did our best to keep up but when we turned that last corner leading into a grand avenue all of us held our breaths.


    Wispy fog danced around our ankles, snaking along the ground. Slipping into the cracks in our clothing grabbing a hold of anything it could, touching everything that stood naked to the wind. I held my breath feeling the strange sensation crawl across my skin and up my spine.


    Before any of us knew it the fog had grown so thick we couldn''t even see our hands in front of our faces. And I in my inability to notice had lost track of both Master Holom and Djerik. I spun about swinging my arms hoping to grab them or at least slap them but there was nothing. Just more fog growing thicker and thicker until it felt like I was walking through milk.


    ''Master?'' I shouted. ''Djerik?'' I yelled for the footman. But we had separated in nearly an instant. My heart began to beat faster with every breath. All the energy in my body forced into weary limbs. IT became more and more difficult to move feeling the energy drain rapidly.


    ''Fuck....I know what this is....'' As if to confirm my worries I saw it. Bobbing lights in the distance. Yellow orbs bouncing up and down, swaying gently as if beckoning me to come closer.


    They were lures hidden in the fog, lulling the weak and weary closer for the monsters they played for to strike the downtrodden at their weakness. What weakness could a Slayer possibly have in the face of a monster? The answer was as old as man itself: when the darkness comes we all seek the light.


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.	I was weary to advance but my own arrogance told me I could do it. I could overcome the temptation but the fog grew thick, my mind began to race with fatigue. Yet all the while the light became more appealing and I walked towards it ever so slowly.


    Then just as it was inches from my face I began to recall the images of the creature at the other end. The light was the soul of a grieving man, his heart ripped out of his undead chest, forever imprisoned in a lantern made from his rib cage. His own soul tucked away inside his shredded heart, glowing alive as ever but never allowed to leave it''s visceral cage.


    Yet in the fog that was not what I saw. I saw a simple orb like a wisp dance back and forth. It felt warm as I drew up close, my body became a sack of lethargic meat slumping down to it''s knees as I reached for the light. My lips quivered to refuse the offer but my body that had begun to die from the fog''s mystical properties saw the light as my savior.


    Something told me to stop. Something in the back of my mind screamed to bring sense into my body as it froze on the spot. In panic I drew my sword, it''s blue edge shining brightly as the runes glowed vaporizing the haze before me.


    I stood in disgust at the creature before me. It''s eyes gouged out, mouth sewn shut, head tilted back as it walked on all four limbs, one arm raised high to carry it''s rib-cage lantern. A Lantern Man stared at me. It''s mouth opened tearing at the stitching to utter a few words through the blood pouring into it''s upturned mouth.


    ''¡­.love.....me.....'' It sputtered. I felt my arm tense on instinct as my sword moved of it''s own volition taking off the creature''s head. But in that second I understood I had acted falsely.


    Though the creature laid dying at my feet I felt a chill like no other creep up my spine. As if a thousand eyes stared at me all at once. My body went numb in shock as the lights slowly blinked into existence around me.


    Dozens of them swaying back and forth with deliberate figure eights luring me to them. Every joint in my body froze. I could feel a small drop of cold blood drip down the nape of my neck, undoubtedly from the lantern men''s sewn mouths.


    I had made a mistake of striking one of them. Had I simply resisted the lantern men I could have walked by but now I had presented myself as a threat. A dangerous threat that would be removed. Though they weren''t strong they had this habit of disappearing, vanishing as though they were made of fog. This would prove problematic.


    A scream shook the fog. Djerik''s voice shouting hoarse words of astonishment delivered in the elegant form of rapid swearing and cursing. It was more than enough distraction to waylay the Lantern Men''s attention allowing me to spin about killing the one behind me, then cutting down another as I dashed in the direction of the footman''s scream.


    I saw a shadow kneeling before me, it''s head thrown back in despair with a painful roar. Gnarled fingers pressed into his chest, splintering bone, spilling blood across his tunic. Djerik remained motionless as the Lantern Man forced it''s hand into his chest trying to steal the man''s heart. Perhaps it was terror or some strange magic the creature possessed but the footman did not move until I cut off the undead''s hand.


    It shuddered then glanced at me as my hand caught it''s face grabbing and tossing the thin thing by it''s head. Landing with a plop the Lantern Man skittered to it''s feet as I kicked it away.


    ''Fucking animal!'' I shouted turning to the stunned man his hands pressed to the hole in his chain mail, five perfectly spaced holes melted into it and through the tunic behind.


    ''That wasn''t very pleasant.'' He groaned with the bones in his body resetting from the pressure like an elephant had just attempted to surgically remove his heart by stomping on him. ''The fuck was that?''


    ''Lantern Men. Heart broken lovers who could never reconcile their love in their former lives. They tend to try and steal the hearts of faithful men, but any heart will do really. Just kind of stuff it in their macabre lanterns stealing the victim''s soul. Bit tragic really.''


    ''Tragic? That''s fucking terrifying! Ugh, God, my chest. Fuck me!'' Djerik clasped his chest watching as more lights danced around them. ''Where''s your master?'' He asked with a worried tone.


    ''Don''t know, but he''ll be fine.'' I said with confidence.


    ''Sure think highly of him don''t you?''


    ''That man raised me.'' I turned on the footman with a serious look, my brow furrowed. ''There''s nothing in this world that can put him down. Us on the other hand, if we''re not quick, we''re fucked.''


    ''Well that''s some good news.'' Djerik grunted clutching his chest. ''Fuck me this really hurts.''


    ''It''ll heal. Come, let''s get to the church. Holom will just have to meet us there.''


    The church was everything wrong with Sinn. It was decadence layered upon decadence with just a small underlying tone of faithless greed. Golden columns rose on either side, ribbing at the top. Dark oak pews lined the single pearl path cutting through the center. A thick white marble podium where a hypocritical priest would give his sermons preaching a humble life as he waited to fuck the church''s chamber maidens coming to serve the Gods. All whilst he feasted on an assortment of exotic foods sipping on imported wine as his tender flock starved in the streets.


    Oh, how they knelt at the feet of their saviors, the walking mouth pieces of the heavens, only able to talk about how the people should willing without self-preservation serve their Gods and elected officials. A fucking scheme to pray on the miserable was all I saw, was all I ever heard when I sat in on their sermons. Just walking into the church made my skin crawl at the hypocrisy.


    ''I wonder how many people died in here, trying to hide from Iory''s fall as if their Gods would protect them. I bet the clergyman bought his way out of the city.'' I was quick to comment as Djerik checked the few halls or closets lining the massive building.


    I heard a creak then the footman, ''Oh, I think you might be wrong about that one.'' He turned his head away from one of the nearby closets. A hand pressed to his nose. ''God, that smell!'' He gagged and I came over to investigate.


    Inside it appeared the clergyman had hidden when the city fell a long time ago, his body skewered by a pair of javelins thrown with great force jammed into the wall behind it. Preserved by foul magic we were treated with the full sensory overload of smelling it''s centuries old decaying flesh, maggots dripping from the many porous holes in it''s body.


    ''Well, that''s disgusting. Close that thing before we get the Iron Plague!'' I roared with the smell backing away until my ass hit a pew''s edge.


    ''Yeah, I''d rather not turn into metal.'' Djerik flicked his wrist letting the closet door slowly close until the cast iron latch clicked into place. He then slammed the bolt shut. ''I know it won''t stop diseases but I feel safer knowing it''s bolted shut.''


    ''Me too.'' I told him returning my sword to it''s sheath. ''Where are they? Holom should have been here by now and we should have run into the Councilman.''


    ''Couldn''t tell you. All I know is I''m in here and the undead are out there. I''d rather keep it that way.''


    ''Then it shall stay that way. Don''t make too much noise and we''ll be fine. They have a horde mentality with limited cognitive function. They act on basic instinct like animals. Well the lower rungs anyways. Let''s hope we don''t encounter a Lich Lord.'' I smiled frightening the footman.


    ''Don''t fucking say that....'' He hissed at me trying to restrain the fear.


    Lich Lords were powerful undead. I hated them, Slayers hated them, entire countries feared them. And rightfully so. With the magic imbued by their former lives as mages only strengthened by their inability to die giving no limitation to what they might conjure slayers are often taught it''s easier to bargain with a Lich Lord then face one in combat.


    ''Wait did you hear that?'' I asked the man feeling as though I heard footsteps in the church''s halls.


    ''If you mean the voices of the Gods then yes, I do feel that in this holiest of places.'' His sarcasm was at once welcome and yet uninvited.


    ''No, fuck off!'' Footsteps pattered against stone like pebbles thrown against a wall. ''That! That! Did you hear that!''


    ''Yeah, I heard that. Sounds small.''


    ''Like a child''s?'' I rose my eyebrow.


    ''Like a child''s.'' He returned hand placed upon the stolen sword at his side. ''There aren''t any undead children are there?'' He asked me terrified at the idea.


    ''No, not many and certainly not here. But there are undead babies. Nasty things. They use their own intestines like whips.'' I grinned like an idiot watching the footman squirm.


    ''That''s not funny asshole.''


    ''It is to me.'' I heard the steps echoing around the corner and down the hall. Sounding as though they descended. As we slowly walked in tandem with our nerves flayed feeling the dead air cling to our skins we came upon a set of spiraling stairs leading down into darkness. ''Does this church have a crpyt?''


    ''Uh, I have no clue. Don''t most churches?''


    ''Fuck!'' I hissed under my breath grabbing a torch from the wall. Freshly lit, so obviously we were not alone. I hadn''t even noticed it''s glow from the main hall. Just as my first foot met the top step Djerik''s hand shot out catching my shoulder sending chills down my spine. ''Don''t do that!''


    He recoiled. ''Sorry. Shouldn''t we wait for Holom? There''s no telling what''s down there.''


    ''That would be the wise thing to do. But Master never said I was known for being the calculating sort. Besides-,'' I paused letting the playful cheer of a happy child travel up the stairs. ''We came here to rescue a child, I''m quite sure we found him.''


    ''And you''re sure it''s not a trap?''


    ''I''m sure it could be.'' I let my words hang.


    ''That''s an answer? Hey that''s not a damn answer.'' He shouted after me following me down the steps after a moments hesitation.


    Truthfully I didn''t think he should have for the air in a dead city took the properties of it, foul, warm yet cold as it touched your skin. It was in itself mystical if not terrifying but as we descended those steps I felt the air of reality change. There was something down there. Something dark and sinister yet all we could do was continue towards the child''s laughter that all heightened the strange sense of horror.


    Spiderwebs caught across my face, where once I would have swiped at them like a marionette on broken strings nothing halted my concentration as the stairs stopped, opening into a long hall. Various stone coffins lined the sides, stacked two high inside bare inlets.


    It spanned in either direction. If I had any sense at all I would send Djerik down one while I took the other but in that moment I turned to the footman. His eyes wide in fear, a shaking hand preemptively stroking the pommel of his stolen sword. I wondered if the man knew how to use it or if he felt more at ease knowing it was there and not some shoddy spear.


    ''Lets go left.'' I told him who breathed a sigh of relief not to split up. Though it was partly for him I had to admit I was not ideal on the thought of facing a horde alone.


    Down the hall we tread, cracking the bones of long dead souls, some survivors of Iory''s initial fall, hiding in the catacombs beneath the church hoping help might one day come. What poor fools they were, completely coaxed into the belief that anyone was coming. Dried and faded blood marked the walls where they had painted murals, the bone of their failing bodies as brushes.


    Those that had succumbed to undeath held enough sense to portray their old lives and evidently the fall of the city.  As we followed the child''s laughter eventually our hall opened up into a grand cavern at the very center a single coffin surrounded by a thousand others waited.


    ''Single coffin at the center? Must be someone important.'' Djerik pointed out my exact thoughts. 	What he didn''t notice was the fact the limestone coffins were brand new, the drag marks apparent in the collected dust on the floor. Their corners smeared with blood where rotten hands had dragged them to that spot.


    ''That''s what worries me. Single coffin poised in the center, larger than the rest that appear to be arranged like worshipers praying. Some of them have blood glyphs on them....that''s never good.''


    ''What are blood glpyhs?'' The footman pressed his hand against one, feeling the blood grate against his skin as it mixed with dirt wiping the mess off on his chest.


    ''They''re an old system of story telling. Used long ago by the Voiceless, servants of powerful lords. Be they undead, vampires or even slaves to a human master. It was glyph writing that allowed humans the functionality to conquer magic and overtake our kings during the Time of Control. Ever since then it''s been refined so the actual use of glyphs which are cumbersome and time consuming to make has been replaced by sigils or words of power or the Touched who can conjure magic without a physical medium.''


    ''Then how come there are glyphs all over the place?'' Djerik asked a rather potent question with a simple answer if not a worrisome one.


    ''Well, originally it was used by lesser beings to communicate with each other. The written word being somewhat of a luxury back then.''


    ''Then lesser beings have been here?'' The footman shivered feeling a cold air dance upon their backs.


    ''Yes and that''s a bit of a bother. Iory fell four hundred years ago. Long after the use of glyphs died. It hasn''t been a written form used by any recognized sovereignty for nearly ten thousand years. To think there live some who can use and understand it outside of Slayers. We, uh, we''re taught it at a young age never thought I''d have to actually use it. Whoever wrote this came after Iory fell, and the coffins are fresh. Someone was here recently. A large number of them.''


    ''Oh, that''s just...fuck...what does it all say?''


    ''Not much. It sort of just repeats.'' I stuck the torch out over the etchings trying to remember lessons given nearly ten years ago.


    ''So the dead sleep, their master in permanent slumber until-, Shit, this glyph is sort of faded I can''t make it out. But it also details how Iory fell.'' I turned to another coffin. ''When their champion was found and his neck bound by rope only then did his strength flourish. Only then did Iory fall to his hand.''


    ''Who''s champion?'' The footman crawled over a coffin pulling it open. Despite his rather weak nerves his curiosity seemed to get the better of him.


    ''A champion of the undead. Maybe a Lich Lord? Could be a Plaguebearer. Or worse than that, an Undead Dragon. Though I think it''s referring to a human. What''s in the coffin?''


    ''Uh, nothing actually, just an outline.''


    ''Outline?'' My mind flooded with the possibilities of what that meant but fourteen years of study did little to bring anything of use to the fore.


    ''Yeah, like black with strange etchings on it''s outer edge.'' Intrigued I joined the footman at the coffin''s side. Peering in I noticed the line as well. It was of distinctly human shape though slightly larger, black etchings; Glyphs, lined it''s outer edge. Yet these glyphs were not as clean or sharp as the others appearing almost to fade out of existence in spots.


    Immediately I knew, I knew what was there. Who was there. And my heart skipped a beat.


    ''Oh, no, no, no. We should not be here. We should have never come here!''


    ''What''s wrong Slayer?''


    ''Champion? Ancient Glyphs? Lesser beings? A Master in Slumber? Oh, fuck. Oh fucking fuck fuck fuck!''


    ''What?'' Djerik yelled at me but I couldn''t hide the fear taking hold of my face. My palms slick with sweat.


    ''It''s a Defiled One. That''s what took Iory after all! The only beings to use glyphs, these glyphs in particular were the Ruined Ones and there servants!'' I turned to the single coffin at the center. ''And I can almost bet you with all certainty that in that coffin rests a Defiled One.''


    We both held our breaths for a second. The quiet of the cavern punctuated by the hiss of air passing through it''s body. Then the sound of scraping rock stopped our hearts for a moment as I imagined the coffin lid sliding back slowly as the chosen of the Ruined Gods clambered out from it''s resting place. A white hot hand ran down my back, brow dripping with sweat then a rush of relief overtook it as a small boy rounded the coffin, two clacking rocks in his hands.


    ''Scared for nothing....'' I whispered under my breath. ''Hello?'' I called to the child, Djerik grabbed my arm. I shot him a dirty look.


    ''What if he''s undead?'' The footman asked me but I just shrugged him off.


    ''Excuse me.'' I called out to the boy who looked up from his two rocks that he swung about like toys. ''Are you Councilman Collifer''s son?''


    ''Daddy?'' The boy''s eyes sparked alive, his rocks thrown to the side. ''Is daddy here?''


    ''Yes, yes he is but I got separated from him. He should be on his way here.'' I approached the boy crouching down until I sat back on my knees in front of him, the Defiled One''s coffin just an arm''s length away. ''Do you want me to take you to him?''


    ''No! Daddy said to hide in the catacombs under the church. So I''m going to wait here until daddy comes!''


    ''Daddy told you to?'' I crouched closer pressing my hand across his face checking for wounds. He didn''t seem to mind, he had reclaimed one of the stones inspecting it in his hand.


    ''Yeah, he said he would come and get me.''


    ''When was this, child?''


    '' Two days ago.''


    My eyes wandered to Djerik who visibly shuddered. Whatever angle the Councilman was playing we had clearly played right into it.


    ''Slayer, something is amiss here.''


    ''Yeah, check the Catacomb make sure we''re alone. Child, where are the knights Sir Collifer sent with you? The soldiers. Your escort?''


    ''They were taken. Taken away and eaten because they were evil. Papa said evil men were killed and weren''t protected by the Gods.''


    ''And how do the Gods protect the good men?'' I asked him ruffling his shaggy black hair, his blue eyes staring up at me.


    ''They give them this.'' His skinny arm struck out under my view, on his arm wrapped a necklace with a small bronze trinket engraved with an ancient glyph.


    I knew exactly what it was. The Abyssal Coin, a gift given by the Ruined Gods to their selected servants in our world. It proclaimed them as faithful to the Ruinous Powers and would see them untouched by all forms of harm, warding off even the Undead.


    ''And who gave you that?'' I ask him kindly trying to hide the absolute terror rising in my thoughts.


    ''Papa did. He has one too. He said he''ll use it to meet me here and we''ll see the god''s together.''


    ''Right of course you will.'' I smile weakly at him. ''Play with your....rock. I have things to discuss with my friend here.'' Oblivious to the nature of his predicament the Councilman''s son went about with his rocks reenacting the Battle of Lor Sphere where the Great Hero Adilial fought the Great Demon General Rokre. It was a child''s tale but one that had enthralled such that he even made the battle sounds with his mouth.


    Djerik had cautiously wandered up to the central coffin, it''s simplistic carvings masking the true terror that slept within. It made his soul grow cold as he came close.


    ''What''s the deal with the boy?'' The footman asked.


    ''Innocent, completely. Councilman Collifer on the other hand has been communing with the Ruined Powers.''


    ''Oh, has he now?'' Djerik almost seemed relieved.


    ''That doesn''t surprise you.''


    ''Well, it''s not what I would have thought but House Collifer has been acting mighty weird lately. Their daughter Katherine being about the only normal person to come out of that house of late. I wonder if that''s due to her having been sent away to a bordering school in the capital since she was but a child.''


    ''Regardless, you were right. There''s more to this than just saving his son. He sent him here. Protected by an Abyssal Coin.''


    The footman''s eyes lightened a bit, the thoughts of it''s value greedily taking root in his mind.


    ''Oh, those things are worth a lot.'' He grinned imagining the coin it could net him with the right buyer ignoring the fact it was a condemned item.


    ''And there''s a reason why they''re banned. The Faith labels those with them in their possession as heretics to the court. Yet the good councilman has one and so does his son. Yet neglected to give it to his soldiers. He wanted those men to die.''


    ''Think about it. These men were willing to waltz into a Dead City to protect the House''s only heir. They would die to stop any harm from coming to him. They probably didn''t even know he had the coin.'' Djerik held some good points that I couldn''t ignore.


    ''Only heir? Oh, shit I think I know-,''


    ''Maurice!'' Exploded an exuberant voice from where the hall opened out into the cavern. Though dimly lit by his knight''s torches I could just make out the long face of Councilman Collifer run down the aisle towards his son completely ignoring myself and Djerik as they ran past.


    ''Papa!'' The child shouted jumping into the man''s thin arms, rocks in his hands sent flying to land one on the ground another bouncing off Djerik''s head who yelped grabbing the knights attention.


    ''Sir?'' Sir Aldwin called to the Councilman who turned on the Slayer his son in his arms. I wondered if he knew what he was gonna have to do. No, he knew, I wondered if he could really do it.


    ''Councilman Collifer. Seems you''ve been reunited with your son.'' I said, Djerik''s elbow catching my ribs where I spotted what he saw. A string of knights poured into the cavern, their faces familiar for they were part of the army left behind as a distraction.


    ''Yes, yes. Thanks to you I''m sure.'' The Councilman spoke with hurried words, his eyes flickering to the new arrivals as they silently formed around us.


    ''Of course, anything for a man of the King and the Faith.'' I smiled feeling Djerik''s back press against mine as the knight''s surrounded us. There was a heavy air over them, souls taken by the pressure of what they were to commit.


    ''Now your services are no longer needed. Please make your way from the city.''


    ''That will be of non issue I however would like to dally a bit longer so that my master might catch up. It seems we''ve been separated.'' I could feel the air grow thick with tension, a darkness swelling in the knights morality as they contemplated simply butchering us.


    ''I''d think it best to take your leave now before my patience runs thin.''


    ''There''s no need for hostility My Lord.'' I snarled, Djerik let out a sigh of disbelief at my action.


    ''Or does that get in the way of your plans?'' Boomed a dark voice from across the tomb, my master arriving precisely at the right moment, his hand gripped around the disembodied skull of a lantern man. Sword drawn dripping blood he gave it a practice twirl readying for a new fight to come.


    ''Master Holom!''  Collifer faked a dying smile letting his voice turn grim and spoke with a snarl. ''You live....''


    ''It takes more than a few lantern men and woxen to kill a seasoned slayer. Though precisely why you''ve dragged us into your game eludes me.'' Holom advanced on the central coffin letting myself and Djerik contend with the knights.


    ''There''s a price for everything in this world Master Sinner. As your name clearly states. What atrocity did you commit that lead you to bend before a witch? What price did your soul pay when you took the deal?''


    ''Nothing that concerns you. You who seeks to sacrifice your son in the name of the Ruined Gods. They are trifling beings, they care not for the problems of mortal men but only to slake their lust for chaos. Do not give in, no matter what glory they offer you Councilman. Family binds us! Don''t let it undo you!''


    I felt Master''s words hit with a certain weight to them believing them to have made an impact, then I heard Collifer''s cackle. A sick twisted sound that no human should ever emit. Even his knight''s seemed taken aback.


    ''You believe it is merely I that has come here for their bidding! Why do you think I summoned you specifically for this task! I care not what Slayer helped guide me to this altar that my son''s blood will soon cover. But they did!''


    ''Master?'' I shouted feeling the air grow dense, the Knight''s backing off just a few steps fearing to get near the altar, rather the central coffin.


    ''Stay where you are Agarn! This madman will see reason!''


    ''I''m pretty sure that''s out of the question once he''s earned the title of ¡°Madman¡±!'' I jested feeling a terrible chill run down my spine as the air grew cold. Something sinister was coming, something powerful. Something dead.


    ''I concur!'' Djerik agreed his breath turning to frost in the air. ''Uh, Slayer?''


    ''It''s time!'' The Councilman laughed.


    ''Poppa. What''s going on? I''m cold...'' His son complained, voice frail and sweet.


    ''Do no worry Maurice. Everything is going to be alright. Nothing will ever be wrong again.'' Collifer pet his son with a dark look in his eye, a dagger in his other hand.


    ''If you do this Sir Collifer there is no turning back.'' Holom warned him as I watched the child''s eyes grow in fear.


    ¡°It''ll be alright.¡± I mouth to him but inwardly I knew how wrong I was. Holom could not cover that distance fast and a dozen knights stood between me and him.


    ''There was no turning back when I accepted the offer.'' I watched the man throw his own child, begging for him to stop, on the central coffin and run the blade through the boy''s throat. My heart stopped listening to his weak plea end in a blood filled gurgle. Even the knights surrounding me felt their souls tear.


    Holom charged forward in a rage stopped only by a dark wall that exploded from the center. Crumpling Knight and Slayer alike. Only the Councilman seemed unaffected, his blank staring eyes focused solely on the son he had just murdered, the blood cascading over the edge of the coffin.


    I felt nausea build up in my senses, stomach churning as the man emotionally slit the boy''s wrists and ankles hoping to empty him of blood. I could barely watch the crimson roll off the coffin let alone watch him desecrate his son like that.


    ''That''s it then? Is it over?'' Djerik asked a fool hardy question but secretly we all wanted that but I knew it wasn''t over. My fears became reality when I noticed the coffin''s top slide open, a spectral hand gripping it''s edge.


    ''Agarn, I need you on your feet Slayer. It will take the two of us to combat this foe.'' Master Holom shouted to me, myself surrounded by crumpled Knights knocked over like turtle''s on their backs. One reason why such heavy armor was frowned upon by Covens.


    ''I will be right with you, Master!'' I shouted back.


    ''Oh, he will, will he?'' Crooned a dark voice behind Holom. My master barely had a chance to react before a decaying hand gripped his throat lifting him high, sword arm trapped in the foe''s other hand.


    ''Argh!'' I listened to my master cry out in pain, the Knight''s around me murmuring prayers of safety as they witnessed the creature they helped raise.


    Noxuz, Eater of Rot, The Sovereign of Death, The Soul Eater. He had many names from the ancient texts I read of him. But nothing quite prepared me for his image. Nor could I have suspected that our mission would see us raise him from his slumber. Why we were even necessary escaped me. Just the thought of what part we played and could possibly play chilled my blood.


    A lithe figure, his body rotten and broken, bones displaying proudly he smiled. A normal man by all accounts save for a dangling rope tied around his neck, his purple robes fluttering in the stale wind. But it was not his image that made him dangerous, it was who he was.


    ''Ah! The Master Slayer Holom. As was the bargain.'' He said his voice corrupting the very air around him.


    ''Bargain?'' My Master eked out under the Defiled''s crushing grip.


    ''Yes, the bargain. Return the glory of House Collifer.'' The Councilman asked of the Defiled, his eyes glossy in his plea.


    ''Hmmm, you have upheld your end of the bargain.'' Noxuz eyed the boy''s limp corpse now half-cocked over the side of his coffin. ''But first.''


    With my master still in his clutches Noxuz turned his attention towards the Knights who backed away under his gaze.


    ''I count twelve, James!''


    ''The rest were not willing to come.''


    ''I count twelve!'' Noxuz roared his jaw distending, voice shaking the crypt. ''I believe that shadow was to give you fifty abyssal coins. Fifty! Fifty Knights! Fifty Coffins!''


    ''Only twelve knights remained truly loyal to their house.'' The Councilman stated coldly.


    I looked around for a moment counting the coffins. Minus Noxuz''s there were indeed fifty. Immediately I knew what they were there for. Everything had been a game, a part of this bargain including Collifer''s own knights.


    ''Sir Aldwin. Take your men and get out of here!'' I shouted at the fear struck man, not that I wished to see him unharmed but that I didn''t wish to see what was to come.


    ''Too late!'' Noxuz laughed. His stare took control of the coins in their pockets turning them red hot, burning through their cloth and armor until each one hung in the air. They didn''t know how to react as the coins shot into their controlled mouths, willed by the Defiled.


    I heard groan men scream and beg for mercy as the coins melted their insides. Some died of shock, others coughed up blood and cried. Aldwin stood against the pain, slowly walking towards his master in an act of defiance.


    ''My lord.....'' He said weakly. ''Have I not been loyal to the last?''


    James looked away into the distant corners. He did not care. He had his glory coming to him, the Collifer''s power returned to what it once was. The sacrifice of his only loyal knights meant little.


    ''You have served my House well. Your service now is no longer needed.'' The Councilman watched a dozen coffins break open, the black outlines burning red with disembodied souls pouring out and infecting the knights. Aldwin stood against the ancient magic, his will fighting off the demon seeking to control his body, the coin it''s permanent seal.


    ''What a strong will!'' Noxuz laughed. ''You will make an excellent Knight of Ruin.''


    With his will fading Aldwin turned to me, my stunned, admittedly frightened eyes locking with his own.


    ''Don''t let my people fall to this madness.'' He asked of me before the demon took hold, his once blue eyes now red as blood. A blood glyph burning into his chest plate that now warped under foul magic.


    ''Agarn! Agarn you must leave!'' Holom told me the Defiled''s grip tightening around his neck causing him to scream.


    ''Master!''


    ''Don''t move young slayer. You''re not a part of this game!'' Noxuz warned me turning to the Councilman. ''Now I believe this concludes the deal. You awaken me, I get my admittedly understaffed Knights of Ruin, you bring me the Master Slayer Holom of Typho and your house shall now be spoken of across the land.''


    ''Then my glory is restored?'' Collifer asked.


    ''The bargain was for the House of Collifer to be spoken of throughout the land. It was not specified in what terms.'' Noxuz grinned, The Councilman felt his whole world crumble. ''House Collifer has fallen so disastrously it''s Lord killed his only heir leaving the House leaderless and crumbling, an example of a failing world that will fall to Ruin.''


    ''This was your ploy. This was what you wanted!'' Collifer backed into the coffin speechless, his hands catching himself but slipped on his son''s blood.


    ''No, this was what you wanted!'' Noxuz argued turning his gaze onto Master. ''To be awakened was what I wanted. But you Master Slayer. You are what my masters want.''


    ''What would the Ruined Gods want with me?'' Holom snarled trying to free himself of the Defiled''s grip.


    ''Well, can''t spill all the beans now can we.'' Noxuz grinned feeling his power slowly return to it''s full strength.


    ''You liar!'' Collifer screamed his mind beginning to break and bend. ''You played me for a fool!''


    Noxuz turned to the man, his playful look turning into one of annoyance. ''You''re testing my patience human! A bargain was struck! Both ends were upheld. And if you survive you might just see your House return to glory.''


    ''You mean?'' The councilman''s face lit up with hope.


    ''Don''t count me for being completely heartless. Your House may fall or rise, who''s to say? I can''t just snap my fingers and you''ll have the grandest treasures to make even the dwarves jealous. That is beyond my power. And the Ruined Gods are not so direct. But we can give you the means. Survive escaping this city and you might just see it through to the end. And just so you know that coin is meaningless now.'' Noxuz laughed. ''Best of luck to you.''


    ''I- I- I-,'' He looked at me as if I was his best hope. All the pawns were in play and I alongside Djerik were the only ones present not part of the plan.


    ''Agarn, as your master I order you to take The Councilman out of this city and see him tried for his crimes and heresy against the King and the laws of the Faith.''


    Noxuz turned to my master, his grip like stone, unyielding even under Holom''s resistance.


    ''Oh, what a turn of events? I wonder if that''s an order the young slayer can follow let alone accomplish.''


    ''He is my apprentice. My word is law to him.''


    I felt my anger grow. The Knights of Ruin standing silently around me. Would I have to fight them? Could I even win that engagement? Did I have to truly protect this pathetic man even if it meant dragging him to the courts to face justice?


    ''I will do as you ask.'' I sneered, Djerik giving me a look of shock.


    ''Will it be that easy? Maybe I should just kill him.'' Noxuz wondered.


    ''Don''t!'' Holom roared.


    ''Don''t? You do not control me. And he has no use. Why let him live? With his skills he might just get the Councilman out alive. I''d rather see him struggle himself. Maybe die. Oh, maybe he might even die and turn. Oooo, that would be grand.''


    ''He''s not important to you but he is to me.'' Holom clearly stated, his eyes alive with anger.


    ''Oh, is he now?'' Noxuz laughed thinking of the ways he could use me to torture my Master.


    ''He''s like a son to me. If you touch him now, I will kill myself and Vishnurr will take me where you can never find me. If indeed I am what your masters want.'' Holom''s word spoke true. As our god, Vishnurr would protect our souls, never to be toyed with. Even the Ruined Gods would not dare tread in his domain.


    ''Fine, he might leave this crypt untouched, the Councilman too. But beyond this church''s walls the legions of undead will hunt them until Iory''s walls. If they can make it there, then they shall be safe. But in exchange I will bind your soul to your body. A living seal, if you say.'' Noxuz smiled, black rotten teeth flashing.


    ''To prevent me from just killing myself?'' Holom stared into the Defiled''s eyes, without a hint of fear.


    ''Exactly. My masters want you alive and you want this pathetic excuse for a slayer to live. A bargain, no? One with more explicit terms.'' Noxuz eyed the Councilman who dropped to his knees realizing he''d been played.


    ''Precisely.'' Holom struggled but knew he was powerless to fight the monster, their only chance of survival was to bargain. ''Footman included in that.'' Djerik smiled feeling left out.


    ''Then a bargain it shall be. It''s almost like a game really. If they can reach the walls before the undead kill them, I shall leave them untouched. However I shall add one thing. If any of them, that ghastly excuse for a soldier included, dane to interfere with our plans in any way they will be fair game in the future.''


    ''His actions at that time will be of his own volition. It''s his own risk.'' Holom admitted which I couldn''t argue with. It would be my choice to interfere and my own life I''d be risking but for now that wasn''t the issue at hand.


    For in that moment Master looked at me and I understood that the bargain was merely more than fatherly affection. It was so I could warn the covens of a plot at hand, one that directly involved the Ruined Gods who had yet to make a move since the First Slayer. I needed to warn them and in turn I needed to extract information from the Councilman and I knew exactly how to do it.


    ''Then I am willing to accept the deal.'' I told the Defiled. Djerik nodded in agreement. The Knights around me groaned. They wanted to test their new bodies, to spill blood but that was now denied to them. ''But why strike a deal with us?''


    ''Because, unlike the dead, to seal a living soul requires the consent of the owner. And he wouldn''t do that unless you were safe.'' Noxuz cackled, Holom grimaced knowing that every last part of that night was going according to their plans.


    ''Then we''re safe to leave?'' I asked nervously.


    ''Only this crypt. Once you''re in the city, well, best of luck little slayer.'' He laughed thrusting his hand into Holom''s chest. Master screamed in agony as his soul was burnt and melted to his body, a giant flaming Y appearing on his chest that burned away his clothes.


    ''Master!'' I shouted worried but Holom held strong, the pain subsiding he waved me off.


    ''Go! Leave at once Agarn!'' He yelled, I obliged.


    Reluctantly, knowing I could never hope to defeat a Defiled One alone I took Djerik by his collar and dragged the Councilman away from the crypt hearing a strange tear behind me as the world ahead of me shined a bright orange. When I turned back, the Defiled One and Master were gone, leaving only the boy''s corpse and twelve Knights of Ruin surrounding it. They were motionless for a time. Even then I realized I couldn''t defeat a single one of them but I knew in my heart that they would soon be unleashed upon the world to do the bidding of their masters.


    I didn''t want to leave so easily but my pounding heart knew the futility of ever trying to fight that beast. I would die. It would have been as easy as blowing out a candle and as inconsequential leaving me no option but to bow out. Yet I also understood that they needed him alive.


    Djerik hobbled along Collifer right behind him the man lost to insanity. My heart broke every time I looked at him, nothing but pity raising to fuel my anger at this weak man before me. It made my chest hot, by bones crunching from my clenched fist. Master had ordered me to make him see justice before a court but in my mind the only true justice would be skinning the coward alive then tossing him in a vat of acid.


    That conviction only grew when the councilman crumbling under his own mind began to shriek uncontrollably. Djerik flinched backing away from the man in front. Fed up with his actions I grabbed the councilman, shoved him up the stairs with a sneer then at the top my clenched fist met his small face.


    Bone cracked, blood splattered the ground where I had crumpled the fragile man''s left cheek bone breaking his nose as well. He didn''t even seem bothered so lost to his thoughts as to begin muttering strange things.


    ''Ah, ahaaha little boy. Fragile boy. Dead boy.'' He uttered spitting blood that glistened through his once pristine teeth, now cracked and missing more than a few from my punch. I hadn''t really noticed but I had thrown everything I had into the punch.


    ''Feeling better?'' Djerik asked me looking back the way we came, himself not so convinced of the bargain.


    I stared at the sad sack of nobleman, feeling my lips curled into a snarl. ''No....I feel worse. Cause I can''t do anything further now otherwise I fear he might die.''


    ''I''m not going to tell you to forget about him but if we have to make it to the wall I need you focused.'' Djerik pleaded not wanting to die. Nor did I but the anger welling inside me made it difficult to think rationally save for one idea.


    ''We''re not going to the wall.'' I told him listening to the councilman blubber insanity.


    ''But that was the deal?'' Djerik said in shock. ''He also said not to interfere!''


    ''We''re not going to interfere. As we are we''ll never make it to the wall. There''s thousands of undead between us and it. Most of whom are probably very active now thanks to the Defiled One. He knew we''d never make it. That''s why he made the bargain.''


    ''Then what?''


    ''We''ll go to the harbor. Find something that floats and paddle our way out, across the lake. Undead are many things but they haven''t conquered water yet.''


    ''Smart. The harbor wouldn''t be far from here either. Glad you can still think straight.'' The footman smiled, I stared him down.


    ''It''s the only thing I can focus on now but I can''t guarantee I''m not going to fuck up anything that gets in our way. I''ve got some anger to let out.'' I sneered once again taking the front and leading them out of the church.


    Djerik eyed the Councilman''s shattered face. ''Hate to see what you do when you let loose.''


    I didn''t comment. I realized I was being irrational, fueled by anger. How could I not be? I had just lost the man who had raised me like a son. The only thing keeping me from a rage fueled rampage tell undead teeth tore through my flesh was my duty to the Slayers. It''s what he would have wanted me to do, my anger could wait.


    Little did I realize my chance to do so would come quicker than expected. Undead hordes roamed every street waiting for us to come to them. Nothing more than shamblers thankfully but being outnumbered one hundred to one was never good for anyone. We kept to the shadows. Slinking our way through the backstreets till the sound of crashing waves danced in our ears.


    We came close to the harbor our only way in an unguarded gate that had my head buzzing with ideas. As we drew close, crossing over the threshold I grabbed Djerik and dragged him across with the Councilman trailing behind. In one smooth motion I hit the latch on the portcullis watching it slam shut in front of Collifer''s frightened eyes.


    ''Slayer?'' The footman shouted.


    ''No. No. No. No. No. Let me out! Let me out!'' Collifer screamed like a banshee, a shrill cry on the dead winds of the harbor his thin fingers wrapped around the rusted metal.


    My hand shot through the holes grabbing his shirt and slamming the man into the metal. He screamed in pain. I didn''t care.


    ''Listen here you piece of shit. Answer my questions and I''ll raise the portcullis-,'' I heard a choir of hungry snarling erupt down the street we had come, a horde of zombies slowly walking around a distant corner.	''Before you''re eaten alive.''


    ''Just let me in. Let me in! I want to live! Please!'' He begged, tears rolling from his eyes mixing with the blood smeared on his thin face.


    ''Agarn, are you sure this is the time and place?'' Djerik asked wearily eyeing the docks just behind us, looking for a ship or even driftwood.


    ''There''s no better time. This coward wants to live. He''s got to answer some questions.'' I sneered realizing the man before me was no longer the man I had met just that morning.


    ''Fine! Fine! Just please let me in! Let me in and I''ll answer anything!''


    ''Any good negotiator knows you never let go of a position of power.'' The horde''s snarling came closer dancing off the Councilman''s back. ''Now answer; the abyssal coins. Noxuz mentioned a shadow gave them to you. He seemed to be the one that set up the deal. What does he mean?''


    ''Sha- shadow? Shadow, yes! Shadow! He''s a human like you and me.''


    ''What''s his name?''


    ''No, name. No! No, name! We just called him The Broker. Works for himself. High-profile. Powerful allies.'' The man stared me in the eyes, his words truth.


    ''Including the Ruined Powers.''


    ''Don''t know. Said it was for a client. Offered me power in exchange for Holom.''


    ''So Holom was the target all along. Why?'' I pulled hard the man''s face ricocheting off the bars.


    ''Don''t know. Don''t know. Don''t know. Told me to bring him here and fifty knights and the first heir to my house. Kill-,'' Collifer shouted trying to recall his heinous deed. ''I did it. I did it.''


    ''Yes, you murdered your own son. What else?'' I yelled.


    ''Nothing, nothing. Else. He approached me. At the manor.''


    ''What''s he look like?''


    ''Tall, dark hair, well tailored. Came up to me after a party I held trying to convince my people everything was better than it was.'' My heart pulled itself in two directions. As much as I despised the man, some part of him did it for his people. ''Spoke well. Educated.''


    ''Anything else, anything defining. Makes him stand out?'' I hurried my words, the horde coming closer, Collifer trapped by my unyielding grip. ''Speak fast! The horde''s coming closer.''


    ''No, no. Nothing. Let me in! Let me in you fucking bastard!'' He shouted but I had stopped listening. In his eyes I saw desperation that spoke of a man who had played all his cards. He just didn''t count on one thing; my anger.


    I let my fingers dance on the lever, all it would take on it''s rusted hinges was a simple pull and the portcullis would raise just enough for him to slide underneath. But looking at the man, his nose runny with snot and blood, eyes bulging red with tears, lips curled in defeat. All I could do was pity the weak man and hate him for having played a part in my master''s death, abduction, what be it.


    I hesitated, contemplating consequence after consequence. Collifer flung himself at the gate expecting to just phase through it like some ghost, the horde merely twenty feet away and closing fast.


    ''You''re not going to let him in, are you?'' Djerik asked.


    I breathed in deeply. ''No.'' Dropping his collar I took three steps back out of arm length from him, his eyes growing wide when he realized I wasn''t just playing tricks.


    ''You fucking Sinner! You heretic! Fuck you! Fuck all you Slayers! I''m glad I did it! I''m glad I killed your beloved Master! He''ll rot in Ruin for eternity! You piece of utter filth!'' Collifer spat venomously at me then turned to the footman his face softening. ''You! Footman! You''re loyal to your lord, yes? Help me and I shall reward you. Kill this abomination and let me in! Gold and woman! Katherine! You know my daughter? Said to be the most beautiful lady this side of Synn. I shall let you wed her! Even fuck her on my throne! Just let me in and she will be yours!''


    The footman glanced at me with a disgusted look, one that I shared.


    ''The Lord James Collifer died trying to find his lost son in the dead city, Iory.'' Djerik stated coldly, the Councilman screaming profanity at him to which the footman replied. ''You marched soldiers to die for little more than a distraction and murdered your own son for heretical gods. You played a game and lost, My Lord. You''ll see no sympathy from me.''


    ''Fuck you! Fuck you both! I curse you!'' He screeched as the first undead hands gripped his flesh. ''You will all die miserable deaths you pathetic fucks!'' He screamed as their rotten teeth sank into his flesh. ''I curse you! I curse you!'' James Collifer''s final words as shamblers tore him apart savoring every last drop of blood and flesh, not that it mattered. Lord and peasant tasted the same to them. A grim remainder that we were on the same playing field in the end.


    ''Slayer?'' The footman grabbed my shoulder, I stood silently watching the councilman eaten alive. In moments they were simply eating a corpse, the life in his eyes that had remained staring at me was already gone.


    What unnerved me most was knowing this was not my first time seeing men eaten alive nor would it be my last. Such was the burden of Slayers, such was the action of a man seeking justice. Holom would have me punished for letting the Councilman die. But I didn''t care. I got what I needed and he got what he deserved.


    ''We should not linger.'' I told him.


    ''...yeah...you might be right at that.'' He glanced at the horde devouring Collifer''s body looking away in shame, fighting back a dry heave.


    ''Is there a ship?'' Djerik nodded pointing down the docks at a derelict piece of wood. Body pocked with holes, sails in tatters. What amazed me was how it had withstood the test of time.


    Climbing over it''s side I discovered exactly how it had survived and that despite all my fears, that gnawing worry in my stomach that felt like a pit, Master Holom was still looking out for me.


    ''Ello, Lads. Bout time you got here. Place gives me the creeps. No amount of gold was worth waiting in these cursed waters.'' Spoke a devilishly sweet voice coming from the woman that waltzed out of the ship''s cabin.


    Djerik spooked by her sudden appearance drew his sword in haste. I quickly grabbed his hand lowering the blade and facing the woman, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders. Thin white blouse ripped at the neck plunging deeply between her breasts that would set any man''s skin on fire. Tight leather pants, wrapped in pouches and knives clung to her shapely body.


    Were I not still focused on my Master''s death I would have shamelessly flirted with her ending in my inevitable rejection.


    ''Who are you?''


    ''Better part of the question is, who is he?'' She nodded at Djerik. ''The deal was for one man, not two.'' She hummed staring at me with intense blue eyes.


    ''Today really has me feeling included.'' The footman breathed.


    ''I asked a question.'' My hand shifted to me sword.


    ''And I chose not to answer. Got a problem with that? Listen bub, I''m a smuggler. Having on the fly changes to my deals is not how I do business. Not that I want to stick around and hash this out.'' She cut the mooring with a knife as long as my forearm, it''s impeccably sharp blade cutting through the thick rope like butter.


    ''So, we just have to trust you?'' I felt the ship lurch as the current took it.


    ''No, but you can trust that Old Man. He hired me to get you out of here. You, not so much.'' She pointed at Djerik with the dagger.


    ''Just feel the love Djerik. Feel the love!'' He spoke to himself.


    I rounded the woman carefully. ''Old Man? Master Holom?''


    ''Yeah, him. Told me to come pick you up from these docks by dawn or if you didn''t show to leave. And if you did come, to give you this.'' She produced a note handing it to me.


    Agarn, If you''re reading this then what I fear has come to pass.


    The woman handing this to you, her name is Isabella, trust her.


    I have arranged for her to take you out of Iory.


    Knowing you I knew you''d try to find a ship out of the harbor.


    I can''t go into detail, I trust the woman, but only so far.


    I need you to continue my work if I''m truly lost.


    In my study, the chipped black petal hides the secret.


    Please, use all that I have taught you.


    You are the one without Sin among Sinners.


    I give this job unto you in the hopes you might stop the coming dark.


    Speak openly with the Seventh Master, he knows of what I speak.


    Vishnurr watch over you child.


    As I read the note my emotions took me in their receiving hands. Though I refused to succumb my heart beat a mile a minute, eyes hot in the stale wind. My body refused to move though I willed it. Folding up the paper I put it away in my back pocket turning on Isabella.


    ''Isabella, huh?'' I gave her a weak smile.


    ''One and only.'' She uncorked a bottle of wine hidden inside a broken crate, the red liquid pouring down her throat.


    ''Where exactly did Master Holom find you?''


    ''In Cravenholm.'' She answered chugging the wine.


    ''Just before we came here then. So he did know. What weren''t you telling me you old bastard?''


    ''Right, if we''re going to be on our way. I need you to pay for him.'' Once more and for the third time she pointed at Djerik.


    ''Pay?'' He cocked his eyebrow miffed that they spoke so casually of his presence which at best was ignored.


    ''The deal was just for this handsome man here. Not you. Pay or I throw you over the side.''


    ''I don''t have any gold?'' The footman admitted. ''Uh, Agarn?''


    ''I don''t have any either.''


    ''Welp, not my fault, best of luck to you.'' She moved to push him off but I got between them.


    ''Hey, hey, hey. Just relax. I''ll pay you.''


    ''How? Your body?'' She eyed me carefully, licking her lips. ''I don''t do virgins. Though you I could make an exception.''


    I grinned. ''Not in that category babe. No, a favor. One favor from a slayer. Anything you want.''


    ''Anything. Maybe I want your body.'' She danced her fingers up my chest smiling to touch the hardened muscle underneath my leather armor.


    ''Maybe you do. But a favor from a Slayer. That doesn''t happen often. We have skills. Dangerous, helpful skills to people like you. Whatever you want.'' I realized that Djerik would owe me for this not that I had anything in mind for him I wasn''t about to let an innocent man be thrown over board.


    ''Fine! Whatever I want. Whenever I want. We clear?''


    ''Crystal.'' I grinned.


    ''Good. Make yourselves comfortable boys. Can''t open these tattered sails or force the hull. Too much damage. Current will take us away from this fucked up city then you can both get the fuck off and I''ll be on my merry way.''


    ''What a classy lady.'' Djerik commented under his breath catching a scornful look from the smuggler.


    I joined the footman at the railing.


    ''Listen Slayer. Thank you.''


    ''For what?'' I asked humbly playing to my own vanity.


    ''For saving me. More than once now. If I hadn''t been a coward and stayed with the army. I would be dead. No doubt about it. And in the crypt and then with pretty princess over there-,''


    ''Relax, Djerik. What are you going to do now?'' I asked.


    ''Well, can''t go back. If anybody found out I let Lord Collifer die they''d hang me for treason. Wouldn''t even think about it just-, shlet,'' he mimicked being hung. ''I have family in Trale. They might not like me but I''m sure they''ll take me in.''


    ''Trale, huh? House Collifer''s rival. Are you sure that''s wise? Slayers don''t meddle in politics but even I know that if spun correctly they could pin the Lord''s death on you as a spy sent by House Thorne. Start a war. I''ve seen worse outcomes for less.'' At the mention of spies the smuggler winced trying to look otherwise preoccupied. There was more to this Isabella character but I wasn''t intent on getting to know her.


    ''It''ll be fine. I hope. What about you? What did that note say?''


    ''Nothing to concern yourself with. I suppose firstly I''ll have to return to Cravenholm and tell the people what has happened.'' (Avoiding suspicion of my misdeeds while obtaining information on the Broker.) ''Won''t be pleasant. Never is.''


    ''I can only wish the best for you then.'' Djerik smiled at me. ''I''m sorry about your master.''


    ''It''s fine.'' I didn''t want to tell him more than that. It wouldn''t be proper. I simply shut up and watched the cursed city drift away into the distance.


    I waved them off, Djerik and Isabella disappearing in the distance for they had elected to continue further down the river, one of many offshoots from Lake Iory. It boggled my mind how such a damaged ship remained afloat but I guess it was more like a giant hunk of driftwood than a proper vessel.


    I looked around the river bank. It was just me. From the treeline I half expected to see Master Holom yelling at me to keep up. But he wasn''t there. He wouldn''t be there yelling at me. God, how I missed that man already.


    ''Fuck this....'' I solemnly kicked a nearby rock feeling it''s hard face crunch against my boot.


    ''Fuck you. Fuck this, fuck everything!'' I shouted letting my tears race across my cheeks unopposed. My heart pounding in my ears as my knees grew weak. I collapsed vomiting. At once sad and angry with my own stupidity.


    ''I''m sorry.'' I began to cry openly, now alone with nothing but my emotions. ''I was weak. I couldn''t do anything.'' I remembered Holom''s last order, one that became perverted by my rage. ''I failed you, master. I''m sorry.''


    I pulled out the note and read it again realizing that I still had one job left to do. Something that needed to be done and maybe if I finished the job I would find him again. I had things I needed to do. Swallowing my emotions I stood and I walked with the weight of my actions on my shoulders. I left for Cravenholm.

 Cravenholm Part - 1

    Cravenholm Part - 1


    I awoke with a start, body in a cold sweat fearing Master Holom''s angered roar that I had overslept. But when the crust fell from my weary eyes all I could see was the bright blue sky and an empty plot of land next to me where his bed roll would have been. It took a moment every morning for me to realize he was gone. Taken. All because of some coward!


    What got to me the most. What pissed me off every time I thought about it was how he died, not that he died. Not in a pitched battle. Not against some horrifying monstrosity. No, he was killed by a coward who wanted power. That''s what got to me.


    As I wondered to the nearby stream to wash my face the reality of it began to strike me. I should be sad. I was sad. But all in all we were Slayers. We died left and right. It was the truth of our pitiful reality. To be used and thrown aside. I guess in some ways Master Holom filled that role spectacularly. The Ruined Powers had him now. Far as anyone knows, he''s dead or at least never coming back. That didn''t mean I couldn''t look for answers. I already had a thread to pull. I wanted to see how far it goes.


    The water reflected my face, sharp and youthful, hair tight to the scalp. It had been a week since my last haircut, shortly before Councilman Collifer''s request came in. I could hardly believe it had been a week. Cupping the stream''s murky water into my hand I let the water slip through my fingers wetting the skin then proceeded to wipe my face off. Then stared intently back into the rippling water.


    One week. This whole ordeal had already taken a week of my life. Nearly four days alone to traverse the land between Iory and Cravenholm though had I horse this could have been done in a day. But the city''s spire peaking over the horizon told me I was close. Honestly I could have made it by nightfall the previous day but I considered it wiser to enter the city on a fresh day. It gave me the chance to scan the surroundings. Which was to say; useless. Utterly useless.


    Few farms dotted the plains around the city, not that I expected there to even be any. I was more shocked to see some still fighting to raise crops. The plains surrounding Cravenholm had become thick with water and disease turning it into a sickly wetland permeated by corpses and dead trees, crows fluttering about not in search of food or shelter but to mock the citizens who desperately toiled the fields that could never raise crops again. Save for a few.


    I had camped next to one such plot of land. Not yet so far gone as to be useless but it wasn''t as if the difference were night and day. Certainly not like a green patch of land next to blighted acres. Nothing of the sort. It was simply less gray then the rest with a few more trees and some sickly berry bushes. Worst of all judging by the look of approaching soldiers to the man''s single run down cottage the farmer was about to have a worse week than I was.


    Of the two soldiers one stepped forward to pound the back of his armored gauntlet on the farmer''s door. I couldn''t help but see a bit of Djerik in the man, if only for the clothes.


    ''Hagsby! Open up!'' The soldier ordered with a stern voice. It was deep like drums with a bit of a grumble like he''d smoked since before he left his mother''s womb. That''s where his similarities with Djerik stopped.


    ''I''m coming! I''m coming!'' Cried an old, weathered and agitated voice that upon seeing the farmer open his front door I could understand his worries. Tall and thin, a white beard that was thick with mud and fingers black from the topsoil he fervently serviced this was a hard working man.


    Then I saw his strong, edged eyes grow weak in despair upon seeing the soldiers at his doorstep.


    ''No....no..no.no...'' The old farmer ¡°Hagsby¡± cried.


    ''I''m sorry, Simone. You know the deal.'' The soldier stated grimly, his voice almost reluctant to speak the words.


    ''No, Benjamin. Please don''t. I''ve barely enough to feed myself!'' The old man hollered as the second soldier stormed by his meager resistance. ''Damn you Carter, have you no soul!'' He shouted at the man''s back, the one named Benjamin hanging back with a hung head.


    ''Of course I do!'' Shouted Carter from within the cottage. I could hear the faint sound of wood and metal crashing to the ground. The soldier almost ransacked the poor old man''s house.


    ''You know what Lord Collifer decreed. All provisions large or small must be summed then dealt out equally to all citizens of Cravenholm. Regardless of rank or status.'' I heard this Carter character shout aloud almost telling himself what he was doing was right.


    ''But I haven''t got any food left!'' Hagsby cried out. Through the window I spotted him trying to pull the soldier away from his search but his feeble arms could not overpower Carter''s younger body even though they both appeared to be suffering from starvation.


    Then I heard planks snapping and saw Carter''s eyes light up like a miner finding gold having already lost hope to ever find that lustrous metal again. From somewhere beneath the cottage he pulled up a small sack. Barely much larger than my rolled up bedroll that was only about the size of my forearm. In a rush Carter darted outside beyond the old man''s grasp.


    ''No, my food!'' Hagsby shouted after him but Benjamin blocked the door.


    ''I''m sorry, Simone. This is where we''re at now.'' The soldier hung his head low in shame, the farmer smacking his leather chest piece with a weak hand.


    ''Nonsense! Bully an old man for his food! Is this what our society has come to?'' He roared in anger but his weak body could never hope to back up that powerful voice. Maybe at one point in the past but now he was a shadow of whatever he once was.


    ''It is as the Lord dictates!'' Benjamin counter argued.


    ''Fuck the Lord! Were I still a soldier I''d whip his rear end!''


    ''But you''re not anymore, are you. Just don''t'' cause a ruckus, Simone. Please....'' The soldier pleaded as Carter shied away to count their find. I couldn''t see what was in the sack only that it overjoyed him greatly.


    ''Oh, I''ll cause a ruckus. I''ll cause a damn fine ruckus. Set the damn stables on fire I will. Eat the damn horses, I will. Barbecue up them sickly bastards. Taste better than that filth there.'' The farmer pointed out the sack with a trembling finger.


    ''Just don''t do anything stupid, Simone, for Emma.'' Benjamin backed away then turned to join his companion who almost left without him.


    ''Henry would roll in his grave to see what you''ve become Benji!'' The farmer sneered at his back. I could see the soldier visibly wince but do his best to maintain stride as he disappeared in the further reaches of the field, heading towards Cravenholm''s walls.


    I picked up my things noticing that the old farmer eyed me.


    ''Yes?'' I asked but the old man wasn''t having any of it. He turned and walked back into the cottage.


    Staring at the two soldiers growing smaller in the distance I wondered if maybe I should have stopped them. It certainly wasn''t my place nor my job. Add in the fact I was only there to tell House Collifer their Lord and sole heir were dead and I was already not going to be a welcome face.


    Out of curiosity I found myself at the man''s door, still open I knocked on it''s face leaning in just enough to see the small home''s entirety. Old bed in the far corner, a cast iron stove at it''s foot and a table with four chairs around it between me and it.


    ''Hello?'' I called out to the old farmer. No answer. I stepped into looking around only to spot the man in the corner behind the corner, rocking back and forth on an ancient rocking chair.


    ''Who are you?'' He asked. ''Come to take what ain''t yours? Well get in line.''


    ''Not at all Sir. Call me curious but I wanted to see what that was all about.''


    ''I''ll call you shithead. Now who the fuck-,'' He turned about to fully face me eyeing my trimmed leather armor and the sword at my hip, it''s pommel and guard far more ornate than any commoners could afford. ''Just who the fuck are you?''


    ''Well, aren''t we just cheery?'' I snidely commented. Really, what place did I have to be rude? I had just watched as this man''s food was stolen then waltzed into his home uninvited.


    ''You would be too if your Lord was a blubbering cunt.....that damn fool. Runs off to let us all die. I work hard to grow these meager crops. Barely enough to last and they take it. No help, no trade just take and take and take like fucking parasites.'' He eyed me again, something clicking in that wrinkled old head of his, stray white hairs poking out of a nearly bald scalp. ''You? You''re not a man of House Collifer, right?''


    I lifted my arms as if to check myself over. ''I don''t think I am.'' If I was I most likely wouldn''t have let Lord Collifer die.


    ''Don''t get wise with me, youngster. I''ll have you know I stood atop Cravenholm''s walls sixty years ago leading men in it''s valiant defense against House Sere''s army.''


    ''Oh, a veteran of the Moss Quarry War. That was quite the feat. Two thousand defenders against a siege force of some fifteen thousand. Records say it was bitter fighting. That once the walls were breached House Collifer''s soldiers fought until every last invader was dead. By some miracle you guys won.''


    ''Miracle? Hah! We fought till our shields splintered, our spears blunted and our swords dulled. Then we used our hands to strangle our enemies. Gods, it was a glorious day. Back then we had real spines. Fucking glass spines wouldn''t know war if an army marched right up to their snot nosed faces and stabbed them in their gutless stomachs.''


    ''That''s one way to put it....'' I trailed off almost unnerved to see the man''s eyes glisten with longing at such dreadful days. For if I remembered correctly that war was over the mishandled title of the Moss Quarry which was a simple iron mine. A bit of overreaction really but that wasn''t my call to make.


    Hagsby eyed me once more, his gnarled features softening, the wrinkles in his face lighting up. I almost thought the man smiled for a moment.


    ''You know of the Moss Quarry War. Maybe you ain''t so bad. Alright, if you''ve got some metal to ya, I''ve got a request.''


    ''Request? I complete stranger walks uninvited into your house and you''re going to ask him a favor? I could kill you and take all your belongings if I wanted.''


    ''But you''re not. Cause I would be dead already. I did not doubt my abilities sixty years ago. I''m certainly not delusional now. You could take me blind. And if you''ve got half the spine I think you do then you''re already four times the man of any other fuckwit in this land forsaken by the gods.''


    ''Well, I won''t argue there.'' Something told me he didn''t notice I was a Slayer though another part told me that if he did, he generally just didn''t care. ''But in terms of your request I do have other things I need to be doing.'' Such as delivering the news, then returning to the Coven for my final trial to become a Slayer before tracking down leads on the strange circumstances surrounding Master Holom.


    ''Oh, shut it!'' He bellowed. At this point I wasn''t at all surprised by his hard edges, I almost expected it. ''I''ve lived long enough to see honest men and dishonest men just by the look in their eyes. I''ve killed enough of both to know the difference.''


    ''I''m not a good man.'' I told him to which his eyebrow cocked.


    ''I said honest men not good me. They do not come packaged together ya fuckwit. An honest man can still be a killer he simply doesn''t need to lie about it.''


    ''Fair enough.'' I conceded.


    ''But you don''t seem like a complete asshole. How about it? Hmmm. Help an old man out?''


    ''Fine...what is it?'' I caved. It''s not like I was in a total rush to deliver the news.


    Hagsby smiled revealing a row of missing teeth. ''Just in front of the stove there''s a creaky floorboard, pull it up.''


    Sighing I walked over to the stove gently touching down my feet until one of the boards creaked. Looking back at the farmer he nodded.


    ''That''s the one. Pull it up.''


    Reaching down I prepared to pull the wooden plank up by it''s raised corner.


    ''If I see a dead body I''m out.''


    ''I bury those in the marsh.'' The old man cackled. A joke for sure but it didn''t stop my spine from shivering. Slowly the board came loose and within a split second I was staring at a deep crevice underneath it, laying dead center was a gray sack as large as my torso.


    ''More food?'' I looked up at the farmer.


    ''Yup....all planted, nurtured and plucked with these hands.''


    ''What do you want me to do with it?'' I asked pulling the sack up by it''s knot feeling the rough fabric dig away two layers of skin from my hands.


    ''You know how to use that sword?''


    I nodded dragging the sack over the lip onto the cottage floor, smacking dirt of it''s bottom with a limp hand.


    ''You''re going to help me bring that into the city then. If they think it''s yours, an outsider, those dick for brains won''t be able to take it from you under Lord Collifer''s decree. And if you have that sword maybe people will think twice before taking it by force.''


    ''Uh, sure. Why me? Couldn''t you have gotten somebody else?''


    ''Weren''t you listening?'' The senile old coot shouted.


    ''Apparently not.'' I audibly sighed.


    ''Hey if Lord Collifer hadn''t taken my usual guy to do whatever the fuck he went to do then I wouldn''t need to. It''s not like I''m forcing you into this and it''s a one time deal so man up fuckwit.''


    ''You know, it''s a good thing I was taught to mind my elders....'' I commented rather harshly.


    ''What? You want compensation? Gold? Fine, I got your gold. Stashed a little bit here and there! Just give me a second!'' He yelled at me and for a moment until his whole body shook as he stood from the chair I had forgotten how feeble he was.


    Removing a small box from a nearby shelf his trembling hands reached into it only to pull out a small velvet pouch. For some reason I had expected someone of his age to have saved more, his life having amounted to more than the few coins he poured onto the table. Something about it made my heart sink and that''s when it really hit me.


    This old man, once so strong and willful had been reduced to this old rotting being. A walking corpse that barely had the strength to move let alone tend to a farm all by himself. Not only that it pained me to watch him slowly count his paltry savings as if the very idea of numbers came to him a few seconds later than it should have. What made it worse was the sum total of the gold he had was barely more than enough to buy a handful of fruit at the market on a good day. My heart broke to watch him even try to exist.


    ''...Stop.... It''s fine. I''ll help. No need to pay me....'' I watched his eyes turn from the hollow counting machine back into their fiery old selves.


    ''Suit yourself.'' He put the thirteen coins back into his pouch, stuffed it in the box then deposited it back onto the shelf in a string of movements that took three times as long as somebody my age.


    ''Then where am I bringing this?'' I asked him, throwing the heavy sack over my shoulder. It''s weight wasn''t much, at least not compared to my training. Though I guess it was beyond the man''s strength to carry.


    ''Just follow me! And don''t ask too many questions!'' He hollered snatching a twine farmers hat with a comically large brim off a hook by the door, nestle it gently on his balding head then walked out expecting me to follow.


    I felt the sack form to my shoulder, nestling up quite nicely against my back. Minus the weight it was actually quite comfortable. The distinct sound of cascading rice echoing in my ear.


    ''Rice? That''s a lot of rice. How the fuck did he grow rice in this marsh?''


    ''Fuckwit! Are you coming?'' Cried old man Hagsby from outside. I wasn''t sure if I should be amused or annoyed with my little nickname. With a grin creeping across my face I walked out of the little cottage, sack on my back.


    ''Took you long enough! If I was as slow as you I''d be a dead man.'' Hagsby righteously roared though his gait with little more than a snail''s pace as I walked alongside him.


    Flanking us as we walked along a thin dirt path, just enough for two men shoulder to shoulder, the raised land dipped into a culvert that spread across the fields, filled with water and disease. My eyes glimpsed the murky water seeping it''s fingers deep into the soil. Rotting animal carcasses lay half-sunken into the land, their putrid bodies dissolving into the water leaving polished bone behind.


    ''What a sight, huh? The fields have become infested by disease and the water refuses to leave.'' Hagsby spat onto the dirt path. ''Then that fool Lord takes his soldiers to go do fuck shit! We need farmers. Good hardy men, hundreds of them to work these fields into submission. We are it''s master not the other way around!''


    I gave him half a smile letting the old man sink into his delusions. There was no saving these decrepit lands. Only a miracle by the gods could save Cravenholm. Oddly enough that was exactly what Lord Collifer had tried to do. He just picked the wrong gods.


    ''Mr. Hagsby?'' I said, the old crackpot gave me a strange look. ''Do you know why Lord Collifer left?''


    ''I thought I said no questions!'' He hollered.


    ''Just...satisfy my curiosity.''


    The old man sighed. ''No. No one but Lady Katharine and the soldiers he took knew what was going on. All we knew was that the young master had disappeared. That Lord Collifer would find him and save Cravenholm. Beyond that, well....we''re as much in the dark as you are.''


    ''Ah, I see. You mentioned there was someone that helped you before. Who?''


    ''You sure are a nosy brat aren''t you?'' Hagsby sneered followed with a deep cough.


    ''Just who I am....''


    ''Ey, if you must know. His name was Aldwin. What a man. A true knight of knights. Could hold his own in battle with the best of them and Gods was he brilliant. Tactician like no other. Shame that Lord Collifer pulled him away from the castle.''


    For a moment my heart stopped hearing that man''s name. I hadn''t known him long but from what I could tell on first impressions was he was not a kind man. Loyal, most certainly, but not deserving of the praise Hagsby laid upon him. I wondered if he would give him that same praise now that he''s become a Knight of Ruin, sworn to the Old Powers to wreck havoc on our world. I audibly choked back my surprise.


    Hagsby eyed my strange reaction.


    ''What? You know him?'' He asked me sternly.


    ''Only briefly....He was...interesting...''


    ''He was a true man of Cravenholm. A knight like no other.''


    ''I''m sure he was.'' I faked a smile recalling the fearful look in Aldwin''s eyes as he realized what Lord Collifer had done. He had committed to the act but in the end before his soul was rotted and warped by ruined magic I saw for a moment a bit of regret. I will never forget that look of betrayal on his face nor the scared eyes of the Lord''s son Maurice as his father slit his throat.


    ''Ah, you wouldn''t know shit about men like him. Once he and the others return with the Lord maybe then we can rebuild Cravenholm.'' Hagsby was strong willed, his opinion of his fellow country men ran strong and deep but the land began dying ten years ago. If it wasn''t fixed by now, it never would be.


    ''Well let''s hope they return soon then.'' For some reason I didn''t have the heart to tell him what happened. I would save that discussion for Lady Katharine. ''Question?''


    ''Enough with the questions, Fuckwit!'' The farmer coughed violently. I almost feared he might die where he stood but the old man remained strong.


    ''Did you know a footman named Djerik?'' I asked him thinking of that strange man I saved, half wondering how his travels were going.


    ''Djerik? Spell it!''


    ''Djerik. I believe the D is silent'' I pointed out.


    ''Never heard of him. There are hundreds of soldiers. You expect me to know them all. Who the hell writes their name with a silent D. Absolutely ridiculous!''


    ''It''s common in the western fjords.''


    ''Well this isn''t the western fjords! This is Cravenholm! We adhere to the Faith and to the King! We''ve never been asked of more!''


    ''I got you. I got you.'' I felt the rice in the sack tumble about as I re-positioned it on my shoulder to better suit it''s weight.


    ''Too heavy for you?'' Hagsby mocked.


    ''No, if anything it feels light.''


    ''Mmmhmm.'' The old man hummed at me. ''Enough talking! Let me enjoy the sights.....''


    The old farmer trailed off into his own thoughts. I couldn''t help but feel the need to sarcastically remark on the sights of Cravenholm and it''s dead lands bubble up inside me. But when I caught a glimpse of the pride in his eyes that need vanished.


    I knew then that he did not see the swamps, the marsh, the dead animals planted lazily half sunken in the water. The hue of sickly green breathed into the air by this unfathomably large bog. Nor did he see the ruined homes of farms that once thrived.


    No, this old man either by choice or dementia saw green fields like what he roamed as a boy. He saw the trains of merchants flocking to Cravenholm''s flourishing market. The farms alive with waves of golden corn and row upon row of orchards. From the city''s once pristine walls it might have appeared to the watchmen as a painter having tossed his paints about randomly on a canvas. It must have been beautiful once. Once but never again.


    I scarcely noticed the wall begin to overshadow us. I say wall but really it''s vast turrets had crumbled into pillars of cobbled stone, the gateway itself had lost it''s arch long ago, collapsing under the weight of neglect. Whatever remained of the original walls were derelict spikes protruding from the ground.


    ''It was at these walls I fought House Sere''s army. Gods, what a day that was. These whole fields swarmed with them, their corpses littered the ground. Lord Triton Sere himself died here, along with his three sons. House Sere fell that day. O, what a glorious day to crush the enemy so completely after their own arrogance led them to that fate.'' Hagsby rolled back his head in a cackling laugh.


    He neglected to mention that the fall of House Sere''s leadership left their lands open to attack. With no lord to rally forces the state crumbled under the weight of bandits and power hungry allies tearing Sere''s land, Provos, apart. I wasn''t there personally, but Master Holom was. He said there wasn''t a woman unmolested and a man left alive within a year. The children sold off by slavers.


    Sure, House Sere was arrogant and power hungry but it''s people did not deserve that fate. No one did. And here this old man spoke as if it was some glory awarded by the gods. Such men never thought of the grander scheme of things, lead only by selfish passion and desire. I guess in some ways that made me alike.


    ''Arrogant or not their own selfish desire to own a Quarry that was not theirs ultimately lead to their state''s downfall. A pity really, because neither House Sere or House Collifer actually held claim to Moss Quarry. Which was originally Agrid''s Desire, a mine that belonged to the dwarven kingdom of Kelrox. Abandoned when the kingdom relinquished it''s hold in it''s southern hills.''


    ''You''re quite the smart fuckwit aren''t you?''


    ''I seriously don''t know if you''re complementing me or not.'' I grinned catching the flickering shadow of movement bare down from above.


    ''Halt! Who goes there?'' Shouted a guard on the gate''s wall, his shifting feet sending flicks of gray stone tumbling down to the dirt road leading through the derelict archway.


    ''You know who I am Johnathan!'' Hagsby hollered with annoyance bouncing on his tongue ready to snap at the guard''s ignorance.


    ''I know you Hagsby, I don''t know him nor what he carries.''


    ''He''s-,'' The old farmer began.


    ''My name is Edward Tallman. My aunt Junn Tride resides within these walls. When her last letter reached me of these horrid famine my family pooled together our resources to either farm or purchase this sack of rice. In the hopes it my stave off starvation for her and whomever she wishes to share this with. I come to help.'' I yelled back at him, lying blatantly through my teeth remembering a woman I only met briefly on my first visit.


    ''Hmmm...I know Madam Tride...alright, you may pass.'' The guard hidden by the blinding rays of white light cast upon Cravenholm by the rising sun waved us by. Just as we began to walk through the gate a second more powerful voice roared.


    ''Stop there! Let me see the face of Mrs. Tride''s nephew!'' Over the edge I glimpsed a bald man peek over the collapsed archway, sweat shining on his polished scalp. Made ever more apparent by his dark skin. I heard him grumble something then shout at us. ''Wait right there. I''m coming down for a closer look.''


    I held my breath for a moment as the distant echo of clanking grieves clattered down unseen stairs. Unsurprisingly the soldier rounded the corner in a huff, hand on his sword.


    ''State your name.'' He ordered to me, Hagsby''s face twisting at this disturbance.


    ''Edward Tallman. As I was telling the watchmen up there,'' I pointed at the slack jawed man, his ability to even give a damn waning, ''I am Junn Tride''s nephew.''


    ''See I would believe you, if Mrs. Tride had any siblings to speak of. Lucky for you, I remember you. You were that apprentice with the Master Slayer.'' He spoke highly as if he was a genius for seeing through my act not that it was well done.


    Hagsby sighed, gave me a stern look then shot his piercing eyes back at the guardsman.


    ''Oh come off it!'' He shouted the two guardsmen eyes opening wide in shock. ''Slayer this, Slayer that. We''ve got business, out of the way!''


    ''Do you not care that this man rode off to serve our Lord yet returns alone, without his Master?''


    The old man eyed me wearily then smirked. ''Yeah, so what? He''s come with food and is willing to lend an old man a hand. He''s a better man than you lot and I bet his spine is not made of glass either.''


    ''Hagsby....'' The guard pleaded as if saying his name softly would dissuade him.


    ''Fuck off and let us through!''


    ''Don''t you care you''re walking next to a slayer?'' The guard huffed.


    ''All I care about is how he''s helping this feeble old man while the rest of you sit with your thumbs up your asses. Now out of our way! He has food to deliver.''


    ''First I want my answers!'' The guard roared catching the attention of a few villagers wandering by. They took one look at me, the guard, then left the way they''d come.


    ''I am a slayer bound to the Blood Charter by the Rule of the King of Synn. You nor any other body are within rights to impede my duty whether I be pursuing monsters or aiding a citizen of the kingdom.''


    ''You fucking Sinners! Think you''re so damn special because of some paper with someone''s name scribbled on the bottom line!'' The guard grew more and more angry, his obvious contempt towards my people displayed on his snarling upper lip.


    ''That charter exists because of Humanity''s failures, one of which being arrogance that blinds you to reality. Something I see quite clearly now!'' I returned but my stern words only helped goad him on further.


    ''Enough of it! The two of you fuckwits!'' Hagsby eyed the guard''s hand, caressing the pommel of his sword readying to plunge it through my chest. ''Take your hand off that rustic hunk of metal, Grody. You know as well as I that Slayers are trained as well as knights. Even more so. Don''t spill needless blood, least of all when it''s your own.''


    I eyed the farmer hearing his words ring entirely opposite of the longing he held for the days of war. Now it seemed, there was a hint of pain in his eyes at the memories hidden behind the glory. The blood, the death. He''d seen more than his share of it. Enough for the lifetime of three men, I''m sure.


    Grody gripped his sword''s handle contemplating taking action. I even noticed the guard above us move as if to support him but really I think he was just shifting into a better spot to take a nap.


    ''Fuck it! Go! Get on!'' He dropped his hand waving them by.


    ''Wise decision.'' Hagsby grumbled shambling forward on his walking stick.


    The guard named Johnathan laid down on his back, nestling against the crumbling rock. I could see his limbs fall limp as sleep took him. Grody however, his body tensed as I walked by with the rice sack dripping over my shoulders. His steely eyes locked onto my hands almost begging for me to draw my sword but I had no reason to do so, he was not my enemy. Monsters were.


    But that question came up once more. As Hagsby and myself walked through a dozen streets, a thousand alleys and a million courts to who knew where inside Cravenholm I began to wonder if I was the monster.


    I looked different. Strong and well-built. Head shaved clean though the lack of care on this particular Job has let my hair desperately reach out, a shallow crop of black sprouting from my scalp. I had tailored clothes, leather pieces of clothing made in such a way to resist the teeth and claws of monsters or the strokes of falling swords. My eyes were sharp and alive. I was alive in so many ways, a being of complete oddity to the people of Cravenholm.


    See as I walked alongside the old farmer I couldn''t help but see the people laying in the street. Their clothes ripped and dirty. Hair a mess. Eyes gaunt and cheeks shallow from lack of food. You might have considered them to be beggars but they weren''t; they were the lucky ones. I wondered then if I seemed a monster to them. For upon my shoulder I held a sack that could cure at least one of their sufferings yet I did not.


    I withheld the food as was asked of me. I did not offer help to the fallen. Though I was human, though I thought myself a good man; The pained, pleading looks of desperation they turned my way did not slow my pace. And as I left their gaze I could feel their looks turn sharp with hatred. I wondered then if I was a monster in their eyes.


    ''Don''t stop....'' Hagsby told me, trying to avoid a woman that shot out to grab his arm but despite his fragile appearance the old man deftly evaded her desperate grasp and she tumbled into the dirt underfoot. I held my breath walking by the weeping woman noticing the back of her neck ravaged by sores. She couldn''t even lift her head once it had fallen into the dirt.


    ''The further in the worse it gets.....'' I commented trying to steady the rice at the same time.


    ''Long ago the walls used to keep outsiders out, now it keeps us in.'' The old farmer sighed. ''Come, we have to get there.''


    ''And where exactly is ¡°There¡±.'' I asked him but before he could properly answer me his pointed finger did the talking.


    At it''s tip sat a rather ordinary building. At least what passed for ordinary in such a poverty struck city. For maintaining and repairing it''s homes had fallen to last on their list of things considered necessary.


    ''There.''


    ''And there is?'' I asked him glancing over my shoulder half curious to see if the woman still laid in the dirt. As if it were some horribly written ghost story she had disappeared most likely to beg for aid from another weary traveller. Though I doubted many came here anymore. I figured Holom and I were the first outsiders in awhile to visit Cravenholm.


    Then again, I guess that wasn''t true. Staring at Hagsby''s wide back, product of years upon years of service and labor I wondered if he knew about the Shadow, The Broker, the one that had constructed my Master''s downfall. Did anyone here know aside from Lord Collifer?


    ''There is where we are going.'' Hagsby declared scampering forward with a renewed vigor as if he''d walked up to the same door a thousand times.


    He approached it''s old rotten face then gently knocked with a quick rasp of his knuckles three times. Paused. Then knocked twice more like any normal person would I wasn''t expecting there to have been such a furtive collection of blows. After delivering the well-timed strikes having done so many times before Hagsby turned to me with a sly grin.


    ''Food here in Cravenholm is like currency. Have enough of it and you can own the whole damn city. That far our home has fallen. That their on your shoulder is worth your weight in gold.''


    I eyed the sack. ''Why trust me with it?''


    ''Protection.'' He stated plainly turning back to the oak door.


    ''What manner of crime have you gotten me into?'' I asked but found my tongue stalled by a most peculiar sight. For in a swift, almost instantaneous action the door swung open revealing a woman.


    She was not the muscle bound bouncer whom I had anticipated having expected this home to be some criminal hovel in the city''s center. Here his rice would purchase any manner of strange oddities at this unlawful market.


    No, her kind smile and small face framed by a tight fitting hood blacker than pitch from which her starched black dress woven from wool extended told me she was not that criminal I had expected. Though I certainly hadn''t expected her. She was after all a Sister of the Faith; a nun.


    ''Mr. Hagsby! Come in! Quickly!'' The woman waved us in with a soft gesture, her cheek pressed against the cocked door''s rough edge. Leaning into it she peered out the way we had come hurriedly scanning the empty streets. She must have thought it all clear when her thin arms slammed the door shut threatening to rock it off it''s hinges. I couldn''t tell if the door was just shit or she hid her strength.


    ''It''s all clear!'' She yelled. At the sound of her voice a dozen thumping steps rolled across the upper floor. Not heavy so they weren''t large; children?


    I saw their little faces and lithe frames bound down the far staircase all smiles and giggles. The first sign of happiness in this dreary city. At the foot of the steps they all paused, a dozen of them, staring wide eyed at Mr. Hagsby.


    His gnarled, weathered features fixed in that permanent scowl almost all old folk had turned on them with an investigative stare, sizing each one of them up.


    ''Alright....'' He conceded just before the surge of excitement of their limbs couldn''t contain their overabundant joy at his arrival.


    Whilst they jumped and prodded at him his mouth curled into a smile as much as stranger to him as I. Leaving them to their joy I watched the nun quietly replace four large boards across the door then slam shut an iron bolt fixing the rotten slab of wood in place.


    She caught my gazing eyes and returned a meek look as if looking upon a man coerced temptation that would defile her stringent beliefs. There was no shame in looking, especially if no explicit intent was involved but that didn''t stop her from carefully twisting about me like water around rock.


    ''They''ve been waiting all day for you. You''re late.'' She chided the old man.


    ''Hush now Sister. I''ve come as I always have and always will! And I do so out of the kindness of my own heart!''


    ''You, kind? I''d sooner be a sinner.'' The woman cocked her head back letting loose a honey sweet laugh whilst she fiddled with the burner on a dying lantern hanging off in one of the corners.


    ''No need to be so harsh. Without Aldwin I needed someone else to carry the sack.''


    She looked at me once more trying with all her might to avoid eye contact. I wasn''t quite sure why aside from her religious adherence. I never considered myself handsome nor did I find the woman attractive. The thick dress and hood robbed her of any feminine qualities. Were it not for her voice and revealed face and the slight curve to her chest breaking the static lining of her dress I could have easily mistaken her for a man from afar. That was always the weird part of the Faith. The most zealous of followers forced to wear those strange black hoods and dresses: men and women alike.


    ''Speaking of who is he?'' She asked blowing life into the lantern''s flame.


    ''Oh, him....'' Hagsby stared at the children hounding him, begging for him to play with them. Then as if to breath life into his words he jumped at them. ''He''s a Slayer!''


    The children whooped and hollered excitement. I heard the nun gasp, her hands began to quiver almost dropping the lantern she held in her hands.


    ''Simon! Why have you brought a Slayer into this house?'' She said shocked.


    ''Because he helped these old bones carry the rice that will feed the children for some time. At least until another crop grows. Mary, does anyone know?''


    ''Know? No, of course not!'' She eyed me wearily. ''Why do you ask?''


    ''Carter and Benji showed up at my farm today. Took my damn food.''


    Mary''s eyes grew wide with worry. ''Gods no. How did they know?''


    ''Must have figured I''d had some food for myself. Took it though I didn''t put up much of a struggle. Least not what I could have back in my day.''


    ''In your day wars ran rampant across these lands.'' Mary told him expecting that thought to terrify the old farmer; it didn''t. It only made him miss it more.


    ''So, was that all your food?'' I asked Hagsby to which he nodded solemnly with a shrug.


    ''Simon! Come take some of the rice you brought back home!''


    ''No, no. You and the children need it more than me. I''m strong. I''ve been through worse. I still have some tucked away.'' I watched his eyes dart to the little ones circling him, jumping about with excited shouts of joy. I knew then that he lied but it wasn''t my place to say anything.


    ''Are you sure?'' Mary asked worried he might not be telling the whole truth.


    ''I''m sure. That sack should last you months on end. By then the rice crops I have now should reach maturity and I can bring you and the kids more.''


    ''Honestly, how you maintain anything in that wasteland is a gift of the gods themselves.'' Mary said with a short prayer. Something about that just rubbed me the wrong way and I instinctively scoffed. Her brown eyes were quick to shoot my way, a fiery passion burning in them. I heard the children whistle behind me.


    ''Now you''ve done it.'' One of them stated plainly.


    ''And what would you know of the gods Sinner?''


    ''I would know they have abandoned this city....'' I told her straight faced garnering a few boos from the children that then giggled to themselves. ''What have the Faith done to help? I don''t see their caravans coming to offer aid. I don''t see missionaries coming to spread the good word. Why? Because even the High Priests see this place as damned, that and they see no chance for profit from this dying land.''


    Mary looked at me wide-eyed as if it was impossible for someone to not believe in her religion. But there I was. Standing before her a heretic as far as she was concerned. My beliefs my own and that of my family.


    ''The Faith is kind to it''s believers. They need only have faith in the forty-two and they will see this land reborn. That is why I alone stay to take care of the children who still pray to the gods every night.''


    ''They pray to forty-two gods every night and yet not a single one will come to help.'' I told her leaving the woman flustered.


    She had seen the pain. The tragedy gripping Cravenholm and all the desperate acts that came with it. If her faith wasn''t shaken before it surely was now. Though I in no way wanted to break that faith it was almost pleasant to see her still holding on to it. It showed tenacity though ignored logic and reason in the process. Whether the Gods were real or not they obviously did not care for the ruins of Cravenholm.


    ''Then we need only find patience and faith that they will come and save us. That is my duty and I will follow it until death.''


    ''Where you shall meet my God.'' I smirked but the expression was quickly robbed from my face by a ferocious slap that cracked the air loudly.


    ''Your God is a heretic to all the good people of Sinn. The Faith preaches compassion and love, caring for your fellow man.''


    ''Yet practices greed and lust just as the worst of us. The only difference between us Sinners or your High Priests is we don''t lie and say we act in the name of the Gods.''


    Mary''s face grew red with anger. Her small palm wound back ready to strike me once more. Not saying I didn''t deserve it. I just wasn''t on the same level of fanaticism when it came to the Faith. It had already failed me once.


    ''Mary how about we make some food?'' Hagsby kindly asked snapping her out of her fury, I couldn''t help but glance at the old man, my face thankful for his interruption.


    ''Yes! Food! You guys must be starving!'' She spoke to the children who cheered. ''Then sit around the fire, I''ll prepare the rice.''


    As I mindlessly palmed the red burning mark on my cheek I watched the children say their prayers then gorge themselves upon thick spoonfuls of rice. Mary had added some spices to elevate the taste but the children didn''t seem to notice. They seemed just as happy to fill their stomachs as a man that had not known the beauty of steak his whole life and was now willing to eat himself to death in the luxurious meat.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.But to them that rice was steak, the fire they gathered around, their table. They talked among themselves, laughed and cried, picked on and cheered up. They were a little family and as I watched Mary spoon another heap of white rice with tiny brown flecks that were the spices she used into another child''s bowl I almost felt guilty of the life I had lead.


    One of the children caught my solemn look then flung her tiny pale hand across my wrist. I coddled the wooden goblet in my hands looking down at her cross-legged on the floor in front of me from the crate I sat on.


    ''Yes?''


    ''Is it true? You''re a Slayer?'' She asked with such a sweet voice that on the cusp of death one might have called her an angel. If she grew up she could even sing in the King''s Hall. If she grew up. That thought haunted me. This sweet child would never live to see ten. Not if she stayed in Cravenholm.


    ''I am. I hunt monsters, that is true.'' I said her eyes lighting up like fireworks.


    ''Is that also why you look so glum. Because Mary says to never trust Slayers because they are Sinners and you fought with her earlier....'' I smiled at the child''s innocence, Mary stopped shoveling rice and stared our way much to the impatient boy''s annoyance. He gladly took the ladle from her hand and finished the job with an extra spoonful.


    ''Holly-'' Mary began but I waved her off. It was fine I was used to it and the bright look in the child''s eyes told me she meant no harm.


    ''While it is true we are Sinners do you know what makes us Sinners?'' I asked her to which she shook her head. I lifted my gaze to stare at each child who equally shook their heads.


    I smiled.


    ''Let me teach you a bit of our history.'' Hagsby shifted quietly in the corner, spooning rice into his half-toothless mouth. The raw fleshing of his gums mushing down on the white rice. He listened intently as did the children who stopped eating to hear better. Only Mary seemed disinterested.


    ''Every Slayers regardless of how nice they might seem, how kind they are. Whatever compassion they exhibit to their fellow man, they all are fundamentally the same. Before we were Slayers we were criminals or renegades, bandits; heretics to those that follow the Faith. Why are these trained fighters of monsters taken from the ranks of such loathsome creatures?''


    ''It''s a good question, right? Here''s the answer.'' Though I tried to enthrall them the harsh reality of what I was about to say weighed heavily on my soul. ''Because Slayers aren''t expected to live long....'' I thought of Master Holom who neared three centuries, who had survived all the odds only to be given to his death by a coward. My hands tightened around the goblet. I could already imagine myself wringing the life from Lord Collifer''s neck, but I can''t, because I had already let him die.


    Looking at the children I knew they needn''t know such things. Nor Mary or Hagsby for that matter. That discussion was more suited for Lady Katharine who I guess would have to wait until tomorrow for the hour grew late and it did not suit any visitor unless expected to arrive at such dark hours.


    ''They''re not expected to live long? How old are you then?'' Holly asked me.


    ''I''m only eighteen.'' I told him aware that half my expected life span had already passed.


    ''A Slayer already by eighteen?'' Mary gasped to which I smiled.


    ''I have yet to go through the Trial of Glass. I''m still an apprentice until I can take it.''


    ''And which Coven are you?'' She asked me a hint of curiosity in her eye. I hadn''t expected her to pry even that much but it excited me to tell them about my family.


    ''The one in the Rumbling Thorns.''


    ''Rumbling Thorns? What kind of bullshit name is that?'' Hagsby cried.


    ''The witches chose it. It makes sense if you live there. The surrounding thornwood forest was enchanted by them to attack intruders. Hence; Rumbling Thorn.''


    ''That sounds awesome!'' Holly shouted exuberantly.


    ''You think so?'' I asked. The tiny girl nodded vigorously. ''I suppose it is.''


    Suddenly I noticed all the children were looking at me with great intent. A look of attention that even Mary noticed. She must have worried I might poison there little minds thus promptly ordered them off to bed before the moon reached it''s zenith. That Yukone, the God of Dreams might impart upon them a blissful restful sleep before she too enters a deep slumber.


    ''But I want to hear more about Slayers!'' Holly stated sharply.


    ''I''ll have none of it. Yukone does not wait for you before she sleeps.''


    ''Then I''ll sleep restlessly tonight.'' She pouted, cheeks puffed out.


    I leaned next to her ear. ''If you go to bed now maybe Yukone will give you wonderful dreams of the Rumbling Thorn.''


    ''You think so?''


    ''Mm-hmm.'' I nodded. I watched her lips curl and open into a toothy smile. ''Will you tell us a bedtime story and tuck us in?''


    First I looked at Sister Mary her eyes screaming worry, brow furrowed enough with doubt that it made me almost second guess my answer. Then I watched the children eyes light up with anticipation. I couldn''t let such sweet children down. I nodded.


    ''Only if you promise to sleep right after the story is done.''


    ''I promise.''


    I thrust out my little finger. ''Pinky promise?''


    She hooked her own into man and shook my hand. ''Pinky promise!'' She affirmed racing off with a giggle, the other children followed her. It wasn''t long after they were out of ear shot that Mary trained her worries on me.


    ''I don''t want you telling them stories of war and death and despair.''


    ''Is that all I have to offer them? Death? Despair?''


    ''What more can a sinner offer the innocent?'' She said collecting the empty bowls the children had left behind.


    ''My life.'' I told her. She paused unsure of how to react. That was my job after all. To die fighting for the people of Sinn.


    ''Now, now you two. I''ve had about enough of your petty differences and these tiny little spouts of bickering. Stop being such arses and realize there''s more than enough room for two religions in this world.''


    Mary shot the old man a dirty look expecting him to side with her but he just laughed it off.


    ''Mary, if you want to try that eye thing wives do you''re gonna have to do a lot better than Emma. Gods, her icy glare could turn even Lords into whipped fools.''


    ''Mr. Hagsby you''re a man of the Faith! How could you side with him?'' Mary said.


    ''Don''t count me for such a fool yet Mary. I''ve seen a great many things. Though the Faith doesn''t promote tolerance as it should, any man who has seen war knows that on the battlefield religion is just a few pieces of paper with words scribbled on their aged surface that can''t stop a sword from piercing your gut. I''ll pray to Ozzimir that my harvest is bountiful. I''ll pray to Asphosis that my seed might produce strong children. But to completely write off the Slayer''s god, uh-''


    ''Vishnurr.'' I said.


    ''Vishnurr. Treating him like a heretic just because he doesn''t adhere to the Faith, now that''s wrong.''


    ''Then why does he think he''s so right? That his god is better than ours?'' Mary snapped at me.


    ''I think the Faith by concept is wrong. Or at the very least, corrupt. It''s just a colossal waste of time. By it''s very definition during it''s formation the Faith was to promote the growth of humanity to a better age but has succumbed to the greed of it''s holy leaders. I don''t see how you think this religious machine created to funnel money and power into the hands of men who claim to be the prophets of mute gods was righteous or at all their plan.''


    ''The Forty-Two have a plan for us all. We are just too simple to ever understand their methods. It is by their design that we live. That the trees grow strong. That our water flows freely and that we may so act and live by accordance of their commandments.''


    ''So the idea of free will does not exist within the Faith?'' I ask her.


    ''I am a Sister of the Holy Family of the One Faith. I have given that up to serve the gods in the purest form and will do so until I am dead.''


    ''And was it their will that you stay here and watch these orphans?'' Mary paused as I spoke. ''I find it strange that I saw not one religious icon on my way through the city. Almost as if they''d all been taken.''


    I stood up. ''Funny. Cause if the good people had stolen all of those pricey religious items they could have fenced it all to nearby cities for a rather extraordinary amount of food. I''d say a city of this size would have had a lot of it. Valuable too. So tell me, did the the faithful people of Cravenholm steal the icons of the Faith and sell it off for food? Would it''s good faithful servants be so desperate as to commit larceny just for a bit of food?''


    ''No...'' The sister muttered.


    ''Then the lack of religious ornamentation and preachers giving their sermons on the street means the Faith has abandoned Cravenholm. Which makes me wonder why you''re still here? Cause your boss and colleagues have left, but you stayed. I admire that.''


    ''Stop....just please, stop.'' Mary said looking at me with pained eyes. It didn''t really hit me at first but when she ran up the stairs, her feet pounding into the creaking wood and the subsequent slam of a door I felt my heart drop with guilt.


    I turned to Hagsby. ''Should I go apologize?'' I asked but in my heart I knew I should.


    The old man grinned. ''You two remind me of Emma and me. Apologize later, she''ll need a moment. But it wasn''t entirely your fault.''


    ''It wasn''t?'' I said shocked.


    ''No. You''re right, the Faith abandoned Cravenholm. The High Priest here took the clergy and left. Took all of their valuables with them, things the citizens had paid for them to have. They abandoned the good people left here to starve. The Faithful showed their true colors that day, all except one.''


    ''Mary. She stayed behind to help the orphans.'' I said seeing the pattern to Hagsby''s story.


    ''Yup. In doing so the High Priest threatened to have her excommunicated from the Faithful but she refused saying it was the duty of the Faith to care for all it''s people and that it was the right thing to stay behind.''


    ''Yet she calls me a heretic.'' I quipped but the old farmer''s eyes shot me down.


    ''Ehhhh, that''s her choice. One bad opinion doesn''t make her a bad person. I''ve made bad choices, doesn''t make me a bad person.''


    ''So you think you''re a good person?''


    ''Fuck no! But I''m not bad either. You should understand that the world is an endless sea of gray and we''re just floating on the surface. Glass spines sink and the strong ones swim but we can never get out.''


    ''That''s a really fucking depressing thought.'' I said from the corner of my mouth.


    ''Yeah, it is. But as a Slayer I''d say you can relate.''


    My thoughts immediately went to Lord Collifer''s terrified face as he was torn to shreds and eaten alive. Choking on his own blood as his fury soaked eyes cursed me from beyond the grave. Then the consuming horde stole him from my sight.


    ''I can relate. Maybe I was a little too harsh about it. I just don''t like being attacked for my own belief. Especially when I''m bound by the laws of gods and men to serve any and all that ask, for a proper reward of course.''


    ''You think she does? You fuckwits. You keep forgetting the world isn''t about you.''


    ''Can''t deny that. Guess this is what happens when my master isn''t here to watch what I say.''


    ''You mentioned you were an apprentice. Where is your master?'' He shambled over to a rocking chair in the corner.


    ''Dead.''


    ''I''m sorry to hear that. Were you close?''


    Close? That word didn''t adequately describe what Master Holom was to me. Hero? Savior? Teacher? Censor?......Father......


    ''We were close. He''s the one that always kept me out of trouble.''


    ''Well now you''re on your own kid. You have to fix your troubles yourself, you can''t avoid them forever.'' He told me. His head rolled back against the chair''s soft cushioning, eyes closed, hands folded on his lap as he gently rocked.


    ''You don''t like to sugar coat things do you?'' I said with a smile.


    ''Nope. Now stop bothering me. Don''t you have some kids to tuck in.'' He shooed me off with a wave of his hand.


    ''Oh, right, see you in the morning I guess.''


    ''Mmm-hmm.'' He hummed as he fell asleep.


    I found the children waiting in their beds. For the most part they had done of the job of tucking themselves in without my help. Maybe they just couldn''t help waiting for my bedtime story. Though I was no bard or a court jester I fancied I could rummage up a wonderfully silly story for them.


    They lay in their twelve beds, each spaced equally from the next in two rows. Between their foot-posts I noticed the hardwood floor laden with strewn toys and clothes, some of which were too small for any of the children. Outfits for a doll perhaps?


    Holly lay in the bed to my right. It''s size barely enough to fit an adult but spacious for a child. She had already pulled the covers up to her armpits, arms flopped over the rough looking blankets edge.


    ''You guys already tucked yourselves in?'' I said in surprise catching the eye of one of the boys at the far end.


    ''We got tired of waiting for you!'' He hollered.


    ''Sorry, I got caught up speaking with Mary and then Mr. Hagsby. I couldn''t have been more than five minutes.'' I smiled pulling a chair from the corner of the room to the doorway.


    ''Is Sister Mary angry?'' One of the other girls asked. A tall one her; black skin, even blacker hair like sprung out from her head like springs.


    I settled into the chairs creaking joints. ''Why would you think that?''


    ''Cause we heard her run up the stairs and slam her door. She only ever does that when she''s angry.'' Said another boy, he himself laying two beds in. Then it struck me, all the boys lay on the left side of the room, all the girls on the right. I wondered if that was intentional.


    ''Maybe a little. We had a bit of a conversation that upset the sister.''


    ''Was it about the Faith?'' Holly chimed in.


    ''If you must know....yes...yes it was. I might have been a little rude and unsympathetic towards her and before you all say anything after I''m done with your story I will apologize to her.''


    ''Does that make you the bad guy?'' A girl in the back asked.


    ''Why would it make me a bad guy?'' I asked her in turn.


    ''Because you were mean and mean people are bad.''


    ''I wouldn''t say I was mean. Maybe a bit rough, sure. All it boiled down to was that she and I had differing opinions. I might have been a little harsh about it but that doesn''t mean I was being a bad person. I was offering my opinion and thoughts on the subject and may have been a bit insensitive about it.''


    ''Then you were mean.'' She said blankly.


    ''Uh....yes... in a way.''


    ''So you were the bad guy.''


    ''Uh....no.....I- uh, I''m not-. Okay, let''s put it this way. Have you ever thought you knew something to be so absolutely right that when someone told you you were wrong you got a little annoyed by it. And you tried so hard to tell them otherwise that you got a little mean.''


    The children stared at me blankly before a boy in the middle piped up.


    ''Yeah! Like when Sally said tomatoes are a fruit but they''re a vegetable.''


    The girl at the end perked up at her name. ''They are a fruit Joshua!''


    ''No they''re not. They''re a vegetable you put them on salads!'' He shot back.


    ''No, you''re wrong. They are a fruit!'' Returned the girl next to Sally.


    ''How can you both be so stupid!'' Shouted a boy. ''Tomatoes are vegetables, they''re not fruits!''


    ''Shut up Harvey, no one was speaking to you!''


    ''Why do you have to be so mean to Harvey.'' Another boy rose his voice in defense of his fellow orphan.


    ''Girls! Boys!'' I shouted above them all standing from the chair with two outstretched arms as if I could physically smother their raised voices. ''That is precisely what happened between Mary and I. Disagreements can get out of hand. And you start to get defensive, you get loud and you start to say things that sometimes you don''t always mean to say. Hasn''t Sister Mary ever told you to think before you speak? This is why that''s good advice to keep. Even as an adult.''


    I clapped my outstretched hands together, the snap of flesh cupping air in an instant echoed in the hall behind me. Rubbing them together I warmed my hands preparing for the next bit I had in mind.


    ''Since we are on the subject now of speaking without thinking I believe I owe you all a bedtime story. So quail the squabbles children and let me tell you about the time my master and I came face to face with a horrible, smelly goblin named Erik.''


    I was only ten at the time. Not much older than yourselves. When my Master, Holom, took a job from a small farmer that had been losing his crops to some strange animal he spotted creeping through the woods. He wanted us to get rid of it because his bear traps weren''t doing anything.


    In an instant my Master knew it was a goblin. Small leathery things that smelled like dead cows. They were horrible looking, horrible smelling and swore more than Old Man Hagsby. But they were weak by themselves.


    See before this job I was having a rough time adjusting to my new life as a Slayer''s apprentice. I was mouthy. I showed no respect. All in all I was just irresponsible and in the life of a slayer that''s a quick way to get you killed.


    So when Holom found out it was a goblin taking the farmer''s crop he sent me out alone to kill it. So I did. Or at least, I tried.


    Since the goblin always came at night I knew if I wanted to kill it I would have to wait. Laying there in the bushes I waited and waited until the morning sun came up. No goblin came that night. Master told me to wait again so I did. But yet again, no goblin.


    I thought to myself. Maybe he moved on. Maybe he left and I didn''t have to kill him. Master then posed to me a question. Would it be right to hunt down this creature that has left? After all our job was to get rid of it and it had left? Thinking myself a true slayer I told my master that it was our job regardless of what we were hired to do to kill monsters.


    I thought I was right. Seeing my eagerness he sent me out far into the woods to find the goblin and make sure he would never come back. For two days I tracked him deeper and deeper into the woods ready to plunge my sword into his chest and claim the kill. He was after all, a monster.


    Before long I found him. His head bent over. His arms holding something I feared he might have held a rock hoping to use it to attack me so I attacked first. I lunged forward stabbing through the creature''s chest. I felt so proud in that moment. Why? Because it felt like I had become so strong that I cut through his body as if it were air.


    You should have seen the look on my face when I realized he was holding his own head. But his head was a watermelon. I must have looked pretty dumbfounded because in the next moment the trap underneath me released sending me tumbling down a ten foot hole filled to the waist with mud and other nasty things.


    I had thought I had him. I thought I had killed the monster but when I looked up the hole, there he was. Completely fine and laughing. He had used a decoy to lure me over the pitfall. I felt so stupid and so sure that I would get him that I underestimated his intelligence. See, goblins don''t survive because they look like angels. They survive because they''re smart and never pick a fight against an opponent they can''t beat.


    Looking back maybe I should had realized that. But I was headstrong. I said I would kill the monster and so I climbed out of the hole covered in Gods knew what but the goblin was gone. Boy, when I returned to my master he let me have it. He couldn''t stop laughing. But his laughter fueled my desire to catch the bastard. And so I went out day after day to catch the goblin, each day failing to another trap.


    At one point he caught me in a snare that strung me eight feet in the air. You might think it''d end there but he was an arrogant little bastard and proceeded to play the most annoying sounds on a drum right underneath my swaying body. He even sang too!


    Master had to come find me after two days. But after that point I had enough. I was done trying to catch the monster. I wanted nothing more than to prove my worth, that I was right and I got played. But we spent one more night at the farmer''s dwelling before moving on. That''s when I heard it. A snap!


    I raced outside just on the edge of the farmer''s land. The goblin stuck in a bear trap. It was perfect. All this humiliation, all this wasted effort and finally I could kill him. So I rose my sword high over my head but it never came down. As I looked upon this creature who had toyed with me for two weeks I couldn''t bring myself to kill him.


    Because I did not see a monster. No. I saw the same fun loving goblin that gleefully played his drums as I hung from a snare. He didn''t mean to hurt me or kill me. He had more than enough opportunities. He was just being himself and that''s when it struck me. I was the monster. I was this strange creature stalking him through the forest with nothing else on my mind but killing him. And yet he never struck back with violence. It was rather alarming really. I, a slayer''s apprentice, saw myself as the monster.


    So I sheathed my sword, gripped the bear trap and with all my strength I pulled until it''s teeth came free enough for the goblin to pull his leg out. We exchanged looks, he even said thank you. And apologized for his smell before he gave me his name: Erik. I spoke with him for a bit after that. Then when the morning sun rose covering the world in an orange glow he stepped into the forest and disappeared. The farmer never had problems again.


    My memory faded of those lighthearted days and the world before my very face sprung back into view. I had lost myself in my own story expecting to see the smiling faces of the children pointed at me. But I guess I shouldn''t have been so optimistic. At some point in the story they had all fallen asleep. Pillows wrapped around their tiny little heads, they all slept entranced by their dreams.


    ''Good night children.'' I whispered quietly shutting the door behind me.


    Just across the hall, another door stood slightly ajar. I could see the orange glow of a candle flame bouncing through the tiny crack. Being me, my curiosity asked me to creep up to it and peer inside. I was more than happy to oblige.


    Though it wasn''t as if I had found a lost treasure, the inside was mostly bare aside from a few rather plain shelves. I then heard the muttering. Someone prayer quietly under their breath.


    I couldn''t see her but I knew she was there. Sister Mary on her knees praying before the candle, her visage blocked by the door. I brushed it open with the back of my hand. Could even hear the air whistle through her teeth as she breathed deeply at the disturbance.


    ''That must be you Slayer.'' She said not without a hint of annoyance.


    ''Yes, it is. And the name''s Agarn.'' I told her leaning up against the exposed door frame. I could see it''s wood splintering from age, bending from the pressure of the roof. It was an old house.


    ''What do you want Agarn?'' She hissed trying to remain composed.


    ''I want to apologize.''


    Sister Mary eyed me, her hands clasped before her chest. For a moment she wondered if I was serious. Then she pointed to a chair in the corner.


    ''Sit.'' She told me.


    Setting myself in the rickety chair I looked her over once more. She had returned to muttering some prayer to the Forty Two. The One Faith was adamant about it''s Children and their consistent need to have them offer piety though only the most faithful such as the Holy Family uphold that duty every night. Then her words ceased and for a moment she was silent.


    ''You wanted to apologize?'' She said finally.


    I crooked my elbows on my knees laced my fingers like a table then sat my chin upon it. Something about the situation felt off. Perhaps because I was so used to seeing the Holy Family pray before giant altars adorned with varied ornamentation in giant chapels not unlike the church in Iory. They would pray in such lavish abodes dismissing any other setting as unfitting of the Gods servants yet Sister Mary seemed content with her single candle. It felt more.....personal.


    ''I did. I wanted to apologize. It was not my intention to belittle your religion or the followers of the One Faith.'' I told her.


    ''But you were right....'' She mumbled, my eyebrow cocked out of curiosity.


    ''On what exactly?'' I said even to my surprise.


    ''The Holy Family, The High Priest and the other Sisters, they all abandoned Cravenholm. They had prayed day and night for the Forty Two to save this city and it''s lands but no help came. Before long they took everything with value and left.''


    I wasn''t surprised. I wish I could say I was but I wasn''t. Guess I should have expected to be right. The Faith though it''s tenets speak of righteous morality it''s practitioners were rather fickle. There was no room for adaptability.


    ''But you stayed?'' I said.


    ''The High Priest told me they had no future in the eyes of the Gods. They would not survive the fortnight....That was two years ago. He told me to abandon them to the cruelness of this world. I couldn''t. Even after he threatened to excommunicate me from the Holy Family for disobeying a High Priest.''


    ''To disobey a High Priest is to disobey the Gods.'' I commented aware of how foolish such arrogance was.


    ''But I stayed. I couldn''t leave these children to fend for themselves.''


    ''That''s very noble of you.''


    ''I guess that makes us similar.'' She said meekly.


    ''How so?'' I asked with intrigue.


    ''That goblin, Erik. You didn''t kill him.''


    ''You were listening?'' I stared into her eyes as she turned to me.


    ''Say the same prayer ten thousand times over and you can repeat it in your sleep. Guess I''ve gotten used to listening to the world around me when I pray. Why didn''t you kill him? It was your job after all.''


    ''Why didn''t you listen to the High Priest?''


    ''Because it wasn''t the right thing to do. But the High Priest isn''t a goblin.''


    I smiled. ''No, no he is not though I imagine some dissidents might have described him as such.''


    Mary gave a faint laugh. ''You''re not entirely wrong there. So tell me why?''


    ''If you were listening you''d know Erik liked to catch me in his traps. Goblins, curious creatures. They like to tinker with things. Almost as much as dwarves. But all those times he never once tried to actually kill me, or hurt me for that matter. Just played his drums after every victory. Can still hear them actually. At first I thought it was to mock me. Later on I realized he was just having fun. He was just living and it was the same thing with his own bit of theft. You need food to eat and you need to eat to live. He was just doing what to him was natural instinct. He didn''t deserve to be killed for such a petty reason. Just like you.''


    ''Me?'' Mary slapped a hand to her chest.


    ''They didn''t deserve it did they? To be abandoned and left alone in the misery of a falling city. To die wretched horrible deaths because no one cared enough to think of them.''


    ''Yes, I suppose so. They''re innocent. Weak and untested. But they''re also compassionate and kind and their laughter turns the dark days away. They didn''t deserve it.''


    ''And that''s precisely why I didn''t kill Erik. He didn''t deserve to die. But sometimes those that don''t deserve to die are taken by cowards.'' My mind flickered over the faint memory of my Master. It had only been a few days since Noxuz had taken him away to the Void where the Ruined Gods slept but already his face was hazy to my mind''s eye. ''They''re taken by the weak who only seek their own gain and in doing so condemn others.''


    Maybe she saw the pain in my eyes, maybe my facial features contorted just enough to reveal the emotions I held back but Sister Mary turned to me. ''You lost someone close to you?''


    ''He was my adoptive father. A spineless bastard lead him into a trap and killed him.'' I dared not speak on the specifics of it.


    ''Glass spines...Spineless people; Glass Spines as Mr. Hagsby calls them.''


    ''Yeah....Hey listen, I am sorry about any offense I might have caused.''


    Mary waved me off. ''Don''t worry about it.'' She smiled. ''You must be tired. There''s a spare bed on the third floor you can sleep in. Mr. Hagsby used to use it when he spent the night but his age doesn''t meld well with stairs.''


    ''I think the rocking chair downstairs suits him just fine.'' I stood from the chair. ''I''m off to bed. It''s been awhile since I slept in a proper bed.''


    ''Then enjoy it while it lasts.'' Mary said as I walked out the door.


    ''I will! Goodnight Sister.'' I called back to her.


    She shut the door and returned to her prayer. I suspected she would be at it for a little while longer and paid her no mind as I went upstairs and found the third floor to be little more than an attic. Crammed with crates and junk I found a bed in the corner just underneath the sloping roof.


    Laying down I felt my body instinctively curl up on the tiny mattress and the pillow form to my head. Next thing I knew; I was out.


    I awoke peacefully. My body cold from the lack of a blanket though the room felt as warm as ever. For the the mid-summer heat had struck Cravenholm with it''s full fury once more a testament to Hagsby''s skill at growing rice in that dilapidated marsh.


    Seconds rolled by as I stared blankly at the sloped ceiling. I willed my limbs to move but there was no answer. Fingers tingling from the numbness of sleep paralysis that attacked my body still, I waited, waited some more than with a deep yawn all four appendages stretched out tearing the tingling away replaced by a morning vigor.


    Left arm lined itself over the pillow, dangling at an awkward angle off the edge of the twin bed I yawned once more scratching my stomach through my armor with my right hand. I could already tell that it''s straps had loosened and shifted to uncomfortable positions. Had I been wiser I would have taken it off before falling asleep, something Master always reminded me of. Prepare now, save myself the discomfort later.


    Sitting up I threw my legs over the side hearing the frame creak under my movement. For a second I expected the wood to give out from underneath me but it held strong. I stretched my arms, righted my belt and stood up letting the lull of sleep shake from my weary limbs.


    It was time. Though calm, the steady beat of my heart did not betray I was nervous to meet with Lady Katharine. I hadn''t quite met her on my first trip through merely relegated to a woman of myth talked of by the servants and soldiers alike. From what I understood she was a reasonable woman, one who might hear what I have to say. Though if I were to speak truth was still a matter of conflict in my mind.


    Downstairs the house felt empty. Children slept in their beds, completely ignorant of the world beyond their four walls. Sister Mary had settled down in her bed and the Farmer Hagsby slept comfortably in his rocking chair, a tiny string of spittle dripping off his lip and onto his shoulder where it shined brilliantly in the sharp light of the morning sun that pierced the windows.


    A part of me wanted to say good-bye for I wasn''t certain yet if I should ever see him or the children again. They were interesting having gifted me far more family time than I had ever known. How incorrect that thought was. I didn''t have a family in the normal sense, certainly a dozen orphans a cranky old man and a rather intriguing Sister of the Faith weren''t normal, but my family were the Slayers now. And soon I would enter their esteemed ranks after taking the Trial of Glass.


    The door latch felt awkward to unlatch, it''s body bent inward as if it had taken a thousand impacts from a large object. Something or someone had tried to get in many times before, all that stopped them was this thick piece of splintering wood. I was sure there would be many more attempts. I wondered if the culprits even knew who lived here.


    '' Going so soon?'' Droned the old haggard voice of Hagsby, blinking crust from his weary eyes. You could see age pull at his skin, the eyelids loose and dropping over his eyes but for the time being he could still see and he saw me. My hands still wrapped over the board''s edges I turned to him.


    ''Figure I''d leave while everybody was still asleep.''


    ''Have business to do, do ya?'' The farmer grumbled drowsily.


    ''I must go speak with Lady Katharine. Then I''ll be on my way home to take the Trial of Glass. Whatever that may be.'' (Not to mention investigating Master''s purpose to the Ruined Powers)


    ''Did you apologize to Sister Mary?'' He asked, his old eyes turning on me sharply.


    I nodded. ''Yes, I did. We had a decent chat before I went to bed. Not to say we''ll ever be on good terms being who we are but it''s what it is.''


    The old man remained silent for a little while then spoke. ''Good.'' He closed his eyes ready to sleep again when I lingering curiosity hit me.


    ''Before I go,'' I mused with a bit of a hum, Hagsby''s eyes shot open. ''How did this arrangement come about? With so many people starving and you sacrificing what food you can grow so that these orphans might eat. The world is a cold place, it''s rare to see such a selfless act...especially since you get nothing in return....''


    ''I know your type, Slayer. You''ve seen things no mortal man should ever see. Am I wrong?''


    I mused over the many haunting memories that crowded my dreams, that infested every waking moment. Not just what I''d seen but the things I''d done. It made me question why they called me Sinless among the Slayers. I could only shake my head.


    ''I was a soldier once. I was tough. I was strong. But I was weak for one person. My dear sweet Emma...,'' I saw the corners of his eyes twinkle with a tear that refused to fall. ''She was my wife for many years. I knew the old bat since I was three. A lovely woman her. Always smiling and laughing smart as they come with looks that could kill a bull. She used to call me a bull. In my youth I was thick headed though I could take on the gods themselves. Though I very nearly met them many times over. Yet each time she was there to nurse me back to health then do it all over again. Each time she would sit at my bed side. A bowl of soup in her hand that she had made herself. She would spoon that stuff into my mouth and tell me how much of an idiot I was.''


    ''Boy was that putrid liquid horrible to taste but I ate it. Every last damn drop of it! Because she made it! Because it was her soup! I think a small part of me wanted to always go back to that. But as time rolled on I grew older and wiser and life became easier. Except for Emma,'' Hagsby looked at me earnestly, ''See Slayer some time ago I realized something. The gods, they''re cruel bastards. To survive in this world you don''t need a strong sword arm, you need to be wise. Emma. Oh, she was wise. She was wisest of them all but her body was weak. See I believe they made me strong and stupid so that she could make me wise. And she did!''


    ''This was back before she wore her dress and Sister Mary would never speak of this but when she first started caring for the orphans there was already no food in this city so a few lads downtown, all they see is this beautiful woman going door-to-door begging for food. Well, men being what they are- monsters, they saw opportunity and they took it. They forced young Mary to undress. Ripping her clothes off screaming obscenities at her as they beat her naked body in the middle of the street. But just before they could rape her along came Emma. I don''t recall why she was in the city that day but boy was it ever a bad time to do something so horrid.''


    ''Emma beat the two men senseless with a plank of wood. Gave them nasty scars on their faces. Boy I wish I''d been there that day to see the looks on their faces!'' He smiled with pride then his lips curved in a deep scowl.


    ''When Emma learned of poor Mary''s plight she convinced me, who only sought to take care of us, to train my hand at growing more rice. See up till then I grew only enough for her and myself. Never enough to let people think we had food. Letting others know you have food during a famine is a good way to get killed.'' He paused.


    ''I never should have let myself be convinced by her!'' Hagsby began to quietly hold back his sobs that pained his blood shot eyes so. ''I had worked myself too hard to the point I couldn''t get out of bed for days right when I needed to bring the rice to the orphanage. Emma, with her good heart couldn''t bare to let the children starve another day so she said she''d bring it herself....'' Hagsby tried covering his mouth with an erratic hand but could only maintain composure enough to shift his weight in the chair.


    ''I agreed reluctantly and....they caught her....they fucking caught her... those two bastards who tried raping Mary. They wanted revenge and I wasn''t- Oh, Gods- I wasn''t there to protect her. Oh, Emma I''m so sorry.....''


    ''They strung her naked corpse up in the middle of the square. No one did anything to help her. They let her die. They just let her-'' Hagsby broke out into full on crying. Where he someone else I might have embraced but I knew what kind of man he was. He was a good man. With his own rough edges and thick pride. He wouldn''t accept a hug no matter the circumstances.


    I let a few moments pass as he collected himself.


    ''After that Knight Aldwin heard of the situation and volunteered to bring the rice himself. But he never could find the murderers and would-be rapists even with the scars on their face.'' It was strange hearing of that man''s exploits once more. For the man I had met was a prideful and somewhat intolerant creature but even still his morality at least held true. Even in death I could still hear his last words.


    ¡°Don''t let the madness take them.¡± I wonder if this was what he meant.


    ''I''m so sorry, Mr. Hagsby. I truly am.''


    ''Emma lead a good honest life. That she died and I lived is the greatest tragedy. And that is why I do what I do Slayer. And I will do it until the day I die or Mary no longer needs my help.''


    ''She''s been through a lot more than I thought.''


    ''Don''t judge her too harshly.'' Hagsby said softly.


    ''I don''t judge her, I think I almost admire her now.'' I smiled. ''Thank you, for sharing.''


    ''You asked. I told.'' Hagsby breathed in deeply. ''Now begone. I want to sleep some more and dream of the old days with Emma. And you standing around doesn''t help that!'' He shouted at me to leave returning to the sharp edge he will have for the remainder of his days.


    I gave a soft chuckle, shook my head and left as the old man fell asleep on his rocking chair once more. For a moment as the door swung shut I worried about leaving it unbarred until I heard the faint sound of wood scratching wood. I pressed my ear against the door only to hear Hagsby snoring wondering who was awake to shut it.


    ''Best of luck, Agarn.'' Mary whispered through the door, barely audible even to my ears. I grinned from ear to ear.


    ''Thank you.'' I returned but I could already hear her tiny feet stepping away beyond earshot.


    She was a good woman. Her heart was in the right place but she was most certainly in the wrong world.  For some reason I felt my spine tingle ominously. There was something coming and I was going to be there to face it.

 Cravenholm -2-

    As the morning sun rose high and the few remaining participants of Cravenholm''s fractured society shambled from their homes to enact their pitiful routines I made my way through the streets. Passing boarded shops and crumbling homes. Were it not for the living pouring through the dirt road I would have sworn a mage had teleported me back to Iory.


    But the people did as they always did though on my journey towards the keep I had the misfortune of playing witness to a string of muggings. Some random stranger had held the poor bastard at knife point who had consequently only just received the gold pouch after mugging another fellow two streets back. It was almost an endless parade of debauchery soaking the streets.


    Some gentlemen nearby, sitting on a wooden railing outside a lively tavern with pints of beer in hand watched on bellowing immoral laughter. Though I suppose I was no better, doing nothing to help the victims. But where the line of victims and muggers ended or began was beyond me. And it was not my job to keep the peace. Whatever peace still lingered in that broken city.


    Yet on I traveled, past the more inhabited sections of the city into areas that were devoid of life entirely. Houses were burned to the ground, corpses littered the street. A few as fresh as the morning air laced with the pungent smell of rotting flesh like onions gone sour entwined with human excrement. To think this section of the city laid right before the Keep''s front gate.


    If they were actively trying to scare away potential help from visitors then they had already began with a bang. That''s when I came upon it. Down a long singular road leading straight through this wealthy section now destroyed and abandoned I saw it. The Keep''s front gate wide open. Certainly they needn''t fear bandits or thieves not with the city''s worth less than a farm hand''s cock but to so boldly prop open the front gate such as it was? That was not bold nor was it wise. Something was wrong.....


    Approaching the cocked gate I noticed a few strange things about it. The gate was unlocked, entirely as if on purpose. The two guards that ordinarily would be placed outside flanking it''s arches were gone, not a trace of them in sight. Then there was the sound.


    Master Holom always taught me to pay attention to the sound. Sometimes when things were just too quiet where you could still hear the world a hundred yards away you knew something just wasn''t right. It was as if everything in that particular spot decided to stop in that very moment. And in that moment I couldn''t even hear the whisper of the wind.


    ''What the fuck is going on?'' I breathed gently nudging the gate open with the tip of my sword stabbed into the iron plate that masked the wooden body. ''Where are the guards? Where''s the help?''


    ''Hello? My name is Agarn of the Thornwood Slayers. I have come under contract to House Collifer to report on my mission!'' I yelled past the gate hoping to hear a voice call back but none did.


    Glancing over my shoulder back down the street I noticed how barren Cravenholm now felt to me. Something wasn''t right here and as I walked into the gatehouse a chill ran up my spine. Someone was watching me. I could feel their eyes on my back. Yet they didn''t not move to reveal themselves.


    I proceeded through the second gate and out of the gatehouse into an open courtyard where I caught my first concrete hint that something was wrong. He sat staring at the gatehouse, his broken back pressed into the tight corner of the dry fountain.


    At his feet lay his dangling heart and lungs dropped out of the distressingly deep wound cut into his chest having completely cloven his chest plate in two. Lifeless eyes stared at the gate, sword dropped a few feet away from him. Hand still limp where he had tried to reach out for it. A violent but quick death.


    Warm water tickled the back of my neck. I could feel it slap my skin like droplets of hail beating down on the earth. I looked up in time to dodge the next speck of blood to fall from the guard''s body. His head gored through with three deep gashes, body impaled on a horizontal flag pole that lacked it''s flag I could reasonably say that whoever did this wasn''t human.


    ''There''s guard number two.... whatever attacked the keep got in fast. They couldn''t even sound an alarm.'' I knew this by the lack of response to the intrusion. There were no other bodies and the second guard was killed in a manner to ward off those seeking to flee. ''...It toyed with them. But was quick to the kill, strange. It was in a hurry but wanted to play....someone sent it here...why? Lady Katharine?''


    Leaving the gutted remains of the guards behind I found myself walking through the main building''s front door unopposed. Smeared in blood I quickly found who''s. She lay on the ground, face gored by a gaping hole that dripped brain matter onto the marble floor. Judging by the simple dress she wore this was not Lady Katharine, just a maid who chose the wrong day to come to work.


    Next to her another woman lay dead. Left arm cut clean off pouring cold blood onto the floor, her jaw sliced upon so deep I could see the back of her throat. Bits of shattered and cut teeth dangling from her mouth dropped out carried away by the profuse amounts of blood.


    ''The wounds and cuts are clean. Something very sharp did this. Sharp and fast.''


    I walked down the hall slowly every so often glancing over my shoulder. Eventually it opened into a Y intersection where at the crook of the fork there was a small archway leading into a diamond shaped courtyard filled with trees. Brilliant light filtered through the trees, Dying but not yet dead they were probably the last living trees for miles around.


    At the split I spotted a trail of blood leading to the right. I always thought it a bit funny how any normal person would walk away from the blood but I, as a Slayer, well I had to follow it. And that I did, to another corpse. A guard, his back completely ripped open through his chest. Organs cut to ribbons spilled across the ground, a thick layer of coagulated blood laying underneath him like a crimson carpet.


    ''Toyed with-'' I turned the man''s head seeing his severed neck artery. Almost hidden completely by the blood. ''He took it to the neck. Survived and ran.'' Looking back down the hallway he''d barley made it twenty feet. ''Poor bastard wasn''t fast enough. But whatever it was was faster. Got ahead of him and gored him on something sharp then ripped him open through his chest. Couldn''t be a weapon. Pried him open with it''s hands......sharp...fast...toys with it''s victims to a limited extent....It''s a Lotwai. A type of demon....an invisible demon....'' Glanced over my shoulder. ''If it''s still here it could be anywhere.'' Looking about there were no hints it was nearby but that didn''t mean I couldn''t feel it''s eyes on me.


    ''It''s here. But why? Why here? They stalk bogs and marshes far from civilization. They don''t stalk keeps in the middle of a city. It''s after something. Or it''s after Lady Katharine. Why? Who would send it? The Ruined Masters? They already had Holom what else were they after?''


    Picked myself up I noted a blood smear leading further down the hall. All this death the Lotwai must have gotten soaked. Though I had no reason to suspect it wasn''t clean if I followed it''s trail I might just figure out why it was there; if it didn''t kill me first.


    Lotwai are invisible demons. Their bodies are weak and thin but what they lack in endurance is supported one hundred fold by their immense attacking power, lighting speed and absolute malicious nature. Known to toy with their victims, gutting them, flaying their skin those caught by one rarely escape. For it''s speed and invisibility make it impossible to outrun. But Slayers, with the the Trial of Glass, a ritual of witchcraft gain the power to see them. I however had yet to take the Trial. Meaning my only hope was to make sure it didn''t catch me off guard.


    My hand tightened around the pommel of my sword. It''s black leather crunching readying to relay to me the feel of it''s blade cutting through flesh once more. My heart began to beat just knowing I was being watched. Or maybe I wasn''t. Maybe the Lotwai had finished and was already long gone. Whatever the case it didn''t help my nerves knowing it had been there.


    Following the general trail of carnage I passed another dozen guards. Eviscerated. Torn to shreds. There were only so many ways you could mutilate the human body and yet found myself gagging at the sight of it. To think I''d seen it all. I was wrong.


    The Lotwai had left the majority of them to bleed out. Slaking it''s urge for torture by killing two guards and mismatching their limbs. I can only imagine how much they screamed as they were broken and twisted into a single creature, arms split down the length, legs broken and twisted around the thigh of the other. All the while their companions laid dying around them unable to help. The last sight and sound they ever heard was the monstrosity before me. Profuse amounts of blood had warped the malicious art-piece into a lump of crimson flesh broken up by bits of silver armor poking through.


    Then I understood why it had done such a thing. Down the hall stood the doors to what I assumed to be the main study. Even from afar I could see the deep claw marks digging into the thick wood but it could not be broken. Someone had barricaded themselves in but the open door left little hope as to their survival.


    ''They must have held up in here with Lady Katharine.'' I was quick to note the guards corpses laying at the door. Prepared with shields they seemed to have withheld the Lotwai for some time. But what I found most interesting was how I could still feel the heat raising from their blood when I crouched next to them.


    ''They barricaded themselves in then tried to make a break for it hoping the shields would hold the Lotwai back. Not a bad plan but ultimately worthless. Lotwai can traverse walls. Strike from any direction. Would get behind them before any normal man could react....''


    Suddenly the sound of a painting sliding down the wall, that scrape of it''s frame scratching the wallpaper stopped my heart. Sword raised in sweaty palms I turned to face the sound but there was nothing. Just a misaligned painting that fell off it''s hook. But the chill growing on my spine refused to leave.


    Then I saw a blood red foot print on the wall, three elongated toes each razor sharp and ready to kill, then another followed by a pair four fingered hand-prints. I knew it had paused. It was staring right at me, sizing me up, assessing the danger I posed. That is to say I didn''t pose any danger. It would attack in a moment and I needed to be ready. Shuffling back with my eyes trained on that one spot I watched the wall bend underneath immense pressure.


    It didn''t take any time at all before I spotted the blood soaked footprints land to my right. To hear the whistling wind slip through it''s splayed claws or to listen to it''s feral screech as it''s unseen claws lashed out towards my throat. Instinct drove me back. Instinct and fear. It drove my legs to jump back, to shuffle out of the way doing everything I could to track the bloody prints left behind.


    I drew my sword up just connecting with a lashing claw feeling my whole body go numb as my joints compressed violently under the attack. Breath hissed through gritted teeth I forced the lashing claws away swinging my sword wildly. Momentum bore itself in the creatures limbs as it dashed around me to my back before I could turn.


    Rather then face it head-on I hoped Vishnurr would guide my movements as I tucked my head and dove forward feeling the lightning fast claws cut a slice of my armor from the nape of my neck. Almost thought my heart would give out I''d never felt it pound so hard.


    Landing with a thump my chest greeted a fallen shield. Frantic hands grabbed it''s edges letting me roll onto my back raising the thick slab of wood up just in time to catch the creature''s lunging claws. They speared the wood like water and I stared up through four equal size holes looking at the ceiling despite the fact I knew it was on top of me. I could almost feel it''s body move into place to tear my guts out with it''s hind claws. Wasting no time I quickly twisted the shield catching the monster''s body and throwing it off of me then scrambled for the study door.


    With barely a second to spare I rushed into the room slamming the door shut hearing the Lotwai slam against it but the falling latch held. A few furious scratches later and the sound of it even trying to claw through ceased. The study appeared to have been a safe room long before it housed chairs and shelves lined with countless books all around. Meaning even that beast''s overwhelming ferocity couldn''t topple the foot thick door.


    ''Fuck that thing!'' I whistled. ''Why the hell is it even here?'' I looked around the room seeing a few other guards, their blood flooding the ground.


    There was no way out. I wandered over to the desk hoping to find a switch or mechanism.


    ''A safe room like this, even if it''s a study now, has to have a secret exit.'' My fingers traced the edges of the desk, rubbing against it''s underside. There was nothing. No bump, no crease.


    Frantically I pulled out each drawer hoping to find something and generally unwilling to search the each and every bookshelf. I combed the desk until I was flat on my knees, my eyes level with the desk smooth brown surface. That''s when I saw it. Lady Katharine''s signature on a piece of parchment just barely sticking out from a stack of books.


    Pulling out the crinkled paper I took a moment to study what she had written in her impossibly curvaceous handwriting. It looked good in person but the practically of it was baffling. How was anyone supposed to read such a thing?


    To Lord Donovin Sosis of House Sosis


    Despite my father''s refusal I write to inform you that I have agreed to accept your offer of asylum for the people of Cravenholm and it''s eight outlying villages. All village elders have agreed to this act and have already made their preparations to leave. I however will remain until my father returns from his trip to meet with my younger brother who has until now been staying in Ragstad Manor in Noviger. He said he plans to return within a few days time. Hopefully by then he will have thought over your offer and changed his mind though whatever his decision may be the people of Cravenholm will leave with me.


    The remainder of the letter was scribbled out in a hurry. ''Must have been the first draft.''


    I pray every night and day for the opportunity you have given my people. Your loyalty to our House will never be forgotten.


    Sincerely, Lady Katharine Collifer.


    They had a deal. Lady Katharine had arranged asylum for her entire country behind her father''s back who''s singular idea to save his people was to offer his son in sacrifice to the Ruined Masters. The temptations of the Ruined Gods and their unholy power was never to be underestimated. A lesson I was beginning to understand as the Lotwai threw itself at the door trying to break the iron latch. But it would not give. It would hold. For a time.


    Underneath her letter I found another. This one written much more plainly, in a man''s handwriting, signed Lord Donovin Sosis. I was not familiar with that House, though I knew they were far to the north. It seemed this was his reply to whatever her second draft was.


    To the young miss Katharine Collifer,


    It pains me to hear of your father''s refusal to accept my offer. I know him to be a prideful and headstrong man.


    Lord Donovin didn''t know the half of it. His pride had lead him to refuse such a blissful offer of help and instead lead him to deal with the Void so that he directly might attain power. He was a man afraid to give it up to another man, unwilling to owe the hospitality of a friend''s open hand.


    I do not wish there to be any bad blood between our families. As such the moment this letter leaves my hand by raven, I and a hundred knights and thirty wagons will arrive to personally help and supervise the evacuation of Cravenholm. Perhaps,I also hope that by pleading with James in person I might convince him to concede his position for the sake of his people. I know this is a hard time but you are strong and wise for seeking my House''s help. The Collifers have been there for Sosis many times in the past. I''d be a fool not to support our oldest ally.


    Sincerely, Lord Donovin Sosis.


    I noted the wax seal on the bottom of the parchment. It appeared to be pressed by a ring with a centaur on it.


    So the Lord was coming? Or was he here? It couldn''t have been him to send in the Lotwai? What purpose would such a move serve? Could he possibly be tied with the Ruined Ones? If so that means not just Lord Collifer but the whole House was in their grips. Or maybe it was just ill timing? Regardless I wasn''t given much time to contemplate the possible outcomes for the Lotwai did not cease in it''s pursuit.


    Throwing itself at the door with reckless lack of self preservation I began to see the iron latch bend, the door hinges begin to buckle and my sense of safety wear thin. In only a few moments that demon would bust in like a tornado of spinning swords looking to slice me to messy ribbons. My intention was to be long gone by then.


    ''Right, the passage. There has to be something.'' I glanced at the four dead guards, neatly stuffed in a semi circle in the far corner near the door. ''If I''m lucky they chose to die near the hidden passage. Cause if Lady Katharine was in this room she would have never made it out that door. The charging guards were little more than a distraction. That has to be why they were offed so quickly. It wanted into the room.''


    Placing the letters back (I had no need to carry them) I made my way over to the furthest bookshelf in the corner, around which it appeared they had died defending it though a demon wouldn''t have been able to tell. But I could and though it held nearly a hundred books I knew a tried and true method of figuring out which one was the secret lever.


    I tackled the fucking thing.


    Though my shoulder met a corner rather painfully my body-weight crashing into the shelf caused a vast majority of the books to fall, even some of the shelves themselves fell off their pegs. Backing away I let the books fall though some remained they were all for the most part misplaced from their original position. All except for one. A black book with a green spine and the name of some children book I didn''t care to read. I plucked it''s spine and heard a gear clink and crank before the shelf began to slowly sweep open. Another thud as the Lotwai collided with the door and I heard the iron scream and buckle.


    I slipped through the hidden door then pulled on the inside lever to reverse the gears. It closed in time for me to witness the door shattered into splinters but by then it was too late for the demon to get me. I was already safely hidden in the inside passage.


    ''That was too close....Now, is there any light?'' I whispered into the suffocating dark.


    I''d almost just died and the first worry to pop in my mind was whether or not I could find a torch. It still struck me how odd my life had become. Here I was, searching for the daughter of the man that turned my Master over to the Ruined Gods and my biggest problem was being able to see in the dark.


    ''If I had just taken the damn Trial before Collifer''s message I wouldn''t have this problem.''


    The Trial connected an apprentice with a witch''s power. It was their witchcraft that gave us abilities to aid us in our fight against monsters. It was that same connection to dark magic that was the true origin of our nickname as Sinners. Our origins as criminals not withstanding.


    Regardless such abilities were especially effective against demons such as Lotwai that were born of dark magic, for it would allow us to see the creatures that lurk in the Fade. It also allowed us to see in the dark. A very useful ability. I''ve known more than one Slayer to use it to spy on naked women, said I''d join them if I lived through the Trial. If. Those that have completed the Trial were forbidden from speaking of it, only what came after.


    I shrugged and ran my hand along the wall hoping it might guide me to an exit. Eventually all I found at the end of the passage was a stone wall.


    ''Another hidden door. Lever must be here somewhere....'' I scanned the wall with my hands until I found something wet. At first I couldn''t quite tell what it was. I had assumed it was water dripping through the dirt though I would be baffled as to where it was coming from.


    Just next to it I found a rock that jutted out abnormally from the smooth wall. Pushing it in with a huff I heard old gears crank and thud as they awoke to let the second person through that day. Slowly the wall swung out spilling light from an overhead window into the mouth of the cave.


    Two dead knights flanked me on either side. Their throats perfectly slit spilling blood across the green centaur on their chest-plates.


    ''So the Lord did make it. Or at least his knights.....But the Lotwai didn''t do this. Their was no struggle. No resistance. Taken completely by surprise. Couldn''t have been done from the front. Cut''s too clean for that. A human did it. A very skilled assassin perhaps? Hid as one of his knights to get close to Lady Katharine. But her body is not here. Nor is Lord Sosis''s. Maybe he did it. Or he''s not here. Either way, she''s not here. She was kidnapped. Explains the keep. Kill everyone inside. Leave no survivors. If I wanted to kidnap someone and sneak in that''s how I''d do it. So maybe this Lord Sosis did do it.....fucking hell...this just keeps getting more and more irritating. At least make it a challenge.....maybe Holom taught me too well.....''


    I continued out of the cave making sure to close the hidden door on this side. Sure I was leaving the corpses of those poor loyal knights in there, most likely to rot until they withered to bone but I was no priest. I''m sure they''d take it as an insult to have a Sinner such as myself to bury them.


    ''Sorry guys. Buried where you die. May Vishnurr protect your soul.'' I told them as the door hissed shut.


    To my surprise the passage ended in a rather mundane house. There was nothing special about it but a few pieces of furniture. Near as I could tell it was even just a single story. There were no corpses inside so I could count that as a plus but any trail I was following ended at the door. It was rather alarming and concerning to walk into the empty street and see nothing.


    The house was one of many stuck in an endless row that seemed to have been built on the side of the keep''s wall. Most were in various states of disrepair except for the one I had left. All abandoned though I was not surprised. It provided ample opportunity for this Sosis character to spring whatever trap it was he had laying in wait.


    Which made me wonder why the Lotwai was sticking around. Perhaps to kill any witnesses who wandered into the castle. That''s why he killed his own knights. They weren''t in on it. An almost mirrored position to Lord Collifer who lead his own knights to their deaths in a cowardly act of betrayal.


    Just before me I spotted four deep groove carved into the damp malleable ground. Between the lines the unmistakable shape of a horse shoe plodding along. But there were other signs too. A pair of footprints belonging to Lord Sosis and Lady Katharine that extended out from the doorstep met by two others.


    ''So he had accomplices?'' I studied the tracks noticing their rather peculiar direction. Glancing quickly over my shoulder I knew I had to make sure. From the sight of derelict towers in the distance it was immediately apparent that the wagon had traveled further into the city away from the city''s only gate. ''Why didn''t they try to leave?''


    Staring down the street gave no immediate answer but regardless that only gave me a better chance of retrieving the unfortunate Lady. That she had fallen into the Ruined God''s plans, what did herself and my Master offer that could tempt them to cross over the Empty Plains? A mythical dimension between us and their prison; The Abyss. The Void. It goes by many names but regardless of what it is called it is feared equally among Peasants and Kings even the Forty-Two who cast them out of reality at the beginning of time.


    Further down the road I let my thoughts run wild when a distant worry took root and grew. What if Lord Sosis wasn''t the one being controlled? The Broker had greeted Lord Collifer in the very castle looming quietly to my left. What if Lady Katharine had already perverted to their cause? Then what reason would she have for kidnapping Lord Sosis? The thought was asinine but it paid to cover all possibilities regardless of how far fetched they might seem. Perhaps this was why Slayers weren''t trusting of outsiders. Everyone was a suspect.


    By the time I saw any signs of where the cart was heading the sun already hung overhead. Noon had come and was quickly going when I stopped in front of a ruined building. It''s windows boarded up, door chained shut. Yet there was the unmistakable presence of wagon tracks digging underneath it''s outer wall as if it had just passed through the wall like a ghost.


    ''The wall opens out like a gate.'' I said spotting the drag marks on the ground and chipped edge. Pressing my hand against it''s face I could feel how flimsy the wall stood requiring it to be thin and light otherwise it''d be impossible to move. ''There must be a door.''


    Sure enough in an empty wynd around back I found a locked door. Two quick glances about me and I was clear to kick the door in. Bolts, hinges and nails exploded forth raining across the floor inside as I put all my weight behind my boot into the area around it''s doorknob. Moments later the staggering slice of thin wood joined them landing with bang that had surely announced my arrival.


    ''Master Holom always said I was good at making entrances.'' Stepping into the gloomy house I realized it was more of a warehouse than a proper living quarter.


    Rows upon rows of shelves lined the two bays. When better days permitted two wagons might have stood there loaded with goods by faithful hardworking men. Now dust claimed everything for it''s own. No wagons. No goods. And no Lady Katharine.


    Grey light filtered through thin horiztonal windows crowning the ceiling just underneath the roof. Were it not for those I might as well have been mucking about aimlessly in the dark. But it helped me see what I needed to see.


    Bits of dust disturbed by a constant stream of movement lead in from one of the bays to a plot of wood. Next to it I spotted a rather suspicious lever. With a quick tug the wooden handle glided seamlessly down until I heard a click and the sound of grinding gears. That empty space of polished wood split in half slowly cranked upwards by groaning gears to reveal a rather shoddy lift with a hand winch fashioned into it''s body.


    ''A cargo lift....'' I stepped onto the wood platform feeling it sway ever so gently under my movement offset by the heavy mechanism that would propel me slowly down if I was wise enough to gently nudge the lever.


    Appearing to be nothing more than a table leg slotted into the winch''s body, it''s original lever long since broken, I took the arm tightly in my grip. Slowly revolving it''s length around the crank the lift descended slowly gaining speed as I dropped twenty feet down into the dark abyss below.


    But it was not to be dark for long. Another ten excruciatingly slow feet dropped away giving way to a large room used to hold merchandise that would otherwise find no space up top. Lit by dying lanterns I felt my nerves begin to burn. Alcohol laced the air so thickly I felt I might become drunk merely from breathing. With little choice I pulled my undershirt up over my mouth and stepped off the swaying lift hearing it groan with relief to be rid of me.


    With a nearby lantern removed and held in my outstretched right arm I pushed further into the cellar finding cobwebs and broken crates but little else until I came upon a long and dark hallway. At it''s furthest point the faint flicker of a dim light could be seen. Seeing as I had no other options I waded into the darkness, guided only by a dying flame and a light at the end of a dark hall. My mind wandered to the horror stories the other Slayers would tell me as a child.


    But I was no child anymore. I had nothing to fear in the dark. Not eve the lingering worry of a second Lotwai skulking the shadows slowed my pace. Then my lantern died.


    In the pitch black I stared at it''s body, cursing such horrid luck. That''s when I heard it.


    ''Look at you.... Tied up like a back alley whore. What kind of Lady are you? When Big Lou gets here Imma ask him if I can fuck you senseless.'' The words crawled over my skin as I spotted a shadow pass over the far lantern. Someone was up ahead. A guard?


    ''You''d like that wouldn''t you? Get fucked by a real man...Yeah? You''d like that. I heard you fucked twenty men at once in the capital. Is that true? You must fuck like a naughty little goddess don''t you?'' I heard the telltale sound of flesh smacking bare rock and the squeal of a frightened woman. ''Answer me you fucking whore!''


    With my knees bent every muscle in my legs propelled me forward as fast and as silent as I could until I found myself staring at the back of a bald man''s skull reflecting the lantern light that shined down upon his sweat stained skin. I drew my sword and readied.


    ''Stupid bitch!'' He spat turning around to see me.


    I think it was the look of complete surprise that really got to me. This twisted look of agony and acceptance that passed through his eyes as my sword skewered his open mouth pinning him against the door. Having pierced his throat he gurgled a few unintelligible words as his body twitched and shortly thereafter death took him. It was not clean. Not by a mile for his dead weight slid his body down my sword sawing through his skull until without even trying it fell free landing with a wet plop on the floor.


    Sword glistening red, handle gripped tight in hand I couldn''t help but stare at the corpse diffusing copious amounts of crimson over the stained floorboards. Having cut the nose bridge clean in two up the center two lifeless eyes now stared up at me from either side of an inch gap in his skull that by all rights should not be there.


    My stomach had no taste for the sight. No matter how many men I kill it''ll always be the same. Lord Collifer wasn''t even the first. This thug wouldn''t be the last. That didn''t mean their faces wouldn''t haunt my dreams.


    ''Who''s there?'' Asked a strained voice ravaged by hours of crying.


    I flipped the bolt up and slide it away from the frame. With a loud echoing creak the door opened up shedding a sliver of pale light into the room beyond it.


    At first the thread of light revealed to me her pale legs. Removing the lantern from it''s rusted peg I hung it over a cell barely big enough for a dog. She sat there with her legs fixed underneath her small frame. Two delicate hands rubbed raw by the cell bars she must have gripped so tightly held over her face shielding her unaccustomed eyes to the blinding light.


    ''My name is Agarn, Lady Katharine. I am here to rescue you.'' I told her and as if she had met the Forty-Two in person she dropped her hands revealing the face of an angel and fixed a steely stare on me.


    ''How do I know I can trust you?'' She asked cautiously recoiling with every step of mine that drew me closer to the lock.


    Bending down with the lantern placed beside the cell I noticed her legs thick with shallow cuts where they had beaten her with a sharp, light malleable object. Seeing where my eyes drew she pulled the over-sized shirt she wore over her wounds wrapping herself up like a ball a look of shame on her face. Looking away I studied the lock hoping it were possible to pick or even break it.


    ''If you''re worried I''m somehow in league with Lord Sosis I can assure you I''m not. I''m a Slayer from Thornwood. My allegiance is to the Rumbling Thorns, not to some Lord whom I''ve never met.'' Plucking a pin from my armor, notably from a place it wouldn''t be missed I twisted the thing metal barb to a slight angle and pressed it into the keyhole slowly working it until I found the pins.


    ''I know you. You were to be with my father to Noviger. Is he here? Does he know of Lord Sosis''s betrayal?'' Her parched throat squeezed the excitement from her throat causing her to cough but the light of hope in her blue eyes burned brightly. When I hesitated to answer that light waned and died.


    ''Just keep quiet. I need to listen for the falling pins.'' I told her avoiding eye contact. The innocence in her eyes kept my mouth shut but she wasn''t an idiot. Idiots don''t study at the Royal Academy since the age of seven.


    ''He''s dead...isn''t he?'' She whimpered. ''Was it Lord Sosis? He knew about Father''s leave. Was it him?'' She asked me more questions than I cared to answer nor did I have any solid answers to give. I kept my silence but to her that was as good as any answer.


    ''No....Maurice and Father....I-I-I-I- Why did this have to happen?'' I paused in my work as I watched her wrap her arms around herself desperate for comfort. After today whatever partying, no care in the world sort of girl she might have been would be violently torn apart leaving a shell of a woman in it''s place.


    Katharine laid her head back against the cell bars trying to gather her wits. But the suffocating dark made that an impossible task. So in the silence, save for my occasional scrape of metal as I picked the lock, the sole surviving ruler of House Collifer began to cry.


    Finally with a deep click the lock let loose it''s prize. Without a moment to spare I swung the screeching cell open and reach into it''s black depths pulling Lady Katharine into my arms. Forgoing any sense of status the young lady wrapped her arms around my neck and began to cry into my chest. Looking down at the dirty mess of long black hair my heart began to drop. If only she knew what I had done.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.''Lady Katharine we must go.''


    ''Go where?'' She cried out then looked up into my eyes. There was a certain joy to her having someone to hold. Though I suspect a stuffed animal might have been as worthy a thing to cuddle as myself. ''I cannot return home. Once Lord Sosis knows I''ve escaped that will be the first place he''ll look.''


    ''No. Of course not. It''s unsafe there with the Lotwai still prowling about.'' I brushed my hand over her head as though she were a child needing consoling. But she wasn''t. She was a human being like any other. Scared beyond her wits. And when we''re scared we''re all like children. ''I know a safe place. As safe as this city can be for you.''


    She looked up at me with hope. Tears glistening across the edges of those bright blue orbs. I didn''t deserve those eyes.


    I couldn''t recall the pattern but that didn''t stop me from trying. After avoiding any populated zones for the past hour it didn''t sit well with me to have our efforts ended simply because I couldn''t remember exactly how Hagsby had knocked on the door. I could almost picture Sister Mary sitting with the kids waiting for the stranger at the door to leave. Eventually my impatience got the better of me and I slammed on the door with the back of my curled fist.


    ''Sister Mary! It''s Agarn, open up!'' I shouted causing Lady Katharine to jump. With her arms wrapped around her she looked to me to be terribly frightened by the ordeal. Not that I blamed her, she was subjected to all manner of torture.


    The familiar scrape of wooden boards being hauled away pierced the door and with one giant heave it swung open revealing the shocked face of Sister Mary who stood silently staring at me. I almost thought I saw a smile.


    ''Agarn?'' She breathed but before I could explain my body turned to grab Lady Katharine and throw her into the orphanage.


    ''Inside quick!'' I told her uselessly as I''d already thrown the poor woman inside. Quick to follow I slammed the door shut behind me replacing the boards.


    When my flurry of actions ceased I turned to face a dozen quizzical looks. The children had gathered in a small semi-circle behind Sister Mary. Their tiny hands gripped her gray dress almost afraid until they saw who I was.


    ''Slayer!'' They all swooned at my appearance.


    ''Agarn, what are you doing here I thought-,'' The Sister''s eyes shifted quickly to the woman I had brought and with a look of shock recoiling as she gasped, ''Lady Katharine!''


    ''Sister. I apologize but I don''t believe we met.'' Lady Katharine gripped my back. With a slight rotation of my head I caught her worried stare.


    ''Don''t worry, Lady Katharine. You''re safe here.'' I told her but behind those big blue eyes I don''t believe she trusted that.


    ''Agarn, what trouble have you brought this humble home?'' Mary sneered angrily causing the children to snicker.


    ''Oh, he''s in trouble again!'' They giggled.


    ''Kids, go upstairs.'' She told them earning disappointed whining in return. ''Stop your whining. Upstairs. Go. Go. Go.'' She shooed them off then turned to me. ''What''s going on here?''


    ''A lot of things.'' I told her showing Lady Katharine to a seat.


    ''Agarn if you brought problems into this house...I will have to ask you to leave...'' She took a once over of Katharine''s bleeding legs where a whip had torn away flesh. That''s when her stance faltered with a deep sigh. It was not in her nature to turn away those in need. ''What happened?''


    ''I only have assumptions. Lady Katharine has to fill in the blanks.'' I told her.


    With a defeated look the young Lady glanced at us both. There was misery in her eyes. Disbelief coiled around her very being as if the very idea of betrayal was foreign, a ghost story told around campfires. Obviously she was no more a player in the grand game of politics than I but unlike her I had the choice to relinquish any involvement. Sadly, she was already too far into the plot to be pulled from it''s corrupting clutches.


    ''Lord Sosis betrayed me and-'' She chocked on her words.


    ''But it''s not just that is it?''


    ''He came here with his honeyed promises of helping Cravenholm''s people when in the end he unleashed a monster in the castle that slaughtered everyone. He slit his own knight''s throats and took me prisoner.''


    ''Do you have any idea why?'' Sister Mary asked offering her a cup of water.


    I watched her take the cup and drain it''s contents. Happily accepting the liquid down her sore throat. She took another sip and another until the wooden cup was drained. Content she handed it back to Mary who filled it once more from a barrel struck through with a pipe that I assumed lead down from the roof where a collection bin filtered rain water down. They might not have food but there was no lack of water. If anything there was too much of it. Drowning crops and carrying disease which had lead to the city''s sorry state but in that moment Lady Katharine did not think on such matters. All she knew was the relief afforded by the cool liquid.


    ''Thank you. And all I know is what he told me. He couldn''t risk me emptying the city as if he had big plans for it. Which admittedly made little sense to me. Considering he and I struck a bargain for asylum in Solheim.''


    ''Bargain? I know of the deal from a letter I found but what bargain did you strike?'' I asked her.


    ''Simple. Solheim''s economy was growing and it needed workers. Men for it''s army even. In exchange for granting each citizen of Cravenholm citizenship to Solheim we would be allowed to live, work and even die there. Not only that but House Solsis has been a long standing ally since my grandfather. For him to just throw that all away....Father would scold me for trusting such a man.''


    I gave an uncomfortable sigh. ''That is a bit odd. What about the other men he said he would bring? A return letter mentioned one hundred knights and thirty wagons. Where are they?''


    ''Camped to the west of here. He came only with the two knights to discuss logistics. That''s when he, well-'' She stopped but had no need to continue further.


    Leaning up against the wall I wondered for a moment what to do when I noticed someone was missing. Particularly an old fool who spoke in swears and referred to the weak-willed as Glass Spines.


    ''Sister Mary. Where''s Farmer Hagsby?''


    ''He left an hour after you. Said it was wisest to return home and work on his rice fields.''


    ''Oh. That''s a pity.'' I shrugged. ''Now then. Why did he bother to take you prisoner? If he wanted to make sure you didn''t uproot your people, well, he could have just killed you. Honestly, it would have been easier.''


    ''Is that supposed to comfort me?'' She scowled.


    ''No.'' I told her bluntly. ''I''m just stating.''


    ''Lord Sosis intended to give me off as payment. The guard you killed was a part of a gang lead by someone called Big Lou. From what I understand he''s been gaining power in Cravenholm''s thriving underworld do to my House''s inability to fund the required guards and feed it''s people.''


    ''How can a starving land like this hope to support anyway. Even criminal organizations?''


    ''They bring in food and export slaves. Families have sold off their children for a month''s ration. And my father''s decree for the Law of Equality did little to slow the final nail hammered into our coffin.''


    ''This Law of Equality. I saw something rather peculiar occur do to it. Two guards came to a farmer''s house recently forced their way in to search for food. Claimed it was due to the Law? Is that how it works?'' I asked her.


    ''Not every province has the law. It''s only during times of great famine where all food is collected then divided equally among the people except my father''s ignorance to Cravenholm''s criminal realm only made things worse. Those guards were most likely on Big Lou''s payroll. They might have brought some of it to the exchange but most found it''s way to their boss''s vault used as leverage to force people to his will.''


    ''Smart man. If not immoral.'' I commented earning a rather dirty look from Sister Mary. There was a fire in her eyes that reminded me of hate and for a second an emotion she was forbidden to bare danced freely through her.


    Nervous hands tickled their way up her sides where she hugged herself ever so subtly. Certainly not enough to draw Lady Katharine''s attention but I saw it and it made me wonder. That name was what had set her off. Was he the man that tried to rape her two years ago? The same bastard that robbed Hagsby of his wife? From her reaction- he was.


    ''I''m sorry if my opinion there offends. I grew up among thieves, murderers and rapists. He''s using an otherwise abysmal situation to his advantage. In the Capital he would be considered a shrewd businessman.''


    ''Agarn''s not wrong. And the fact this scum has come to my home to pick at it''s carcass....This city might be dying but it doesn''t deserve to be ran over by a horde of marauding thieves. Not when it''s people still cling to the hope that Cravenholm''s glory might return with my father. But even now, that hope has been dashed-'' Lady Katharine''s wet eyes glared at me. For a moment I felt them judge my actions but she knew not what I had done. Sister Mary, anger yet burning in her eyes caught the implication of her guest''s words.


    ''What does she mean? What happened to Lord Collifer?'' She asked me.


    I hesitated for a moment to even mention it but even to Lady Katharine all she knew was he was heading to Noviger to retrieve his son.


    ''Lord Collifer and the young master, Maurice, are both dead. Save for myself, there were no survivors.'' I didn''t bother to mention Djerik. His survival wouldn''t interest them much. I wondered how he was doing?


    ''Was it quick?'' The Lady asked behind her quivering hands, violently sloshing the water over it''s tip. Beat red eyes stared at me readying at any moment to break out into tears, her scarlet lips curled down with a soft trembling.


    All I could remember was Maurice''s face of pure horror staring up at his father who slit his throat. That look of utter disbelief as he desperately clawed for his distant father hoping for all the pain to vanish in his strong embrace. Then I saw the rabid sneer permanently pulled across his face as his own actions enacted their brutal repercussions. Sure, I had a hand in turning him into a feast for a zombie horde but what else did he expect? Slayers were not pure in any sense. But Lord Collifer; his own greed hurt so many.


    ''Yes, it was.'' I lied through my teeth. The act was as common to me as breathing. Nor did she have any need to know the truth.


    ''Good. I would hate for my little brother to have suffered.'' She gave a grim smile to which all I saw was Maurice''s dead eyes locked on his father.


    I sighed deeply. ''Now that you''re safe. I must know something. Did your Father or even Lord Sosis mention anything about having met with a man. Specifically someone called the Broker?''


    ''Hard to say, Slayer. My father became increasingly erratic since my mother''s death. And his recent mental health before his death was not sound. I often found him locked in his personal study. Sometimes I thought I could hear him speaking to someone but whenever he came out he was alone and the room was empty.''


    ''Loss can often prove dangerous to anyone''s mental health. Even Lord''s cannot replace love that has been lost.''


    ''Love doesn''t end with death, Agarn.'' Mary pointed out. I nodded with a hum.


    ''So another dead end. Unless I find Lord Sosis and ask him on this matter.''


    ''If you did I''d ask you stab him for me.'' Katharine spat angrily. ''And the only way you''ll find him now is through Big Lou. If they have some sort of agreement Id'' imagine Big Lou would know where he was. He knows where everyone in the city is.''


    ''And do you know where Big Lou is?'' I asked her.


    ''No. If I did I would have had the guard shut him down long ago-''


    ''He''s in the East Quarter. A rundown manor on Bayelor Ave.'' Sister Mary stated angrily. Her fist shaking in frustration.


    ''How-'' I cut Lady Katharine off.


    ''Lady Katharine can I have a moment with the Sister?''


    She looked at us both before agreeing. ''I''ll go greet the children then....''


    I waited some time before training my attention on Mary. Her downcast eyes avoiding me for a time as several minutes of silence passed. Soon her thoughts began to bubble over.


    ''You must be wondering why I''m so angry?''


    ''It''s crossed my mind.'' I said. I wasn''t one to show such open emotion. Anger, perhaps, but only to get the point across.


    ''I heard Hagsby tell you the story....do you know what my biggest fear is? Especially now.''


    I shook my head. ''I wouldn''t even begin to know, Mary. I''m guessing it has to do with how Big Lou almost raped you. Him and his accomplice.''


    She nodded with tears flowing down her pale cheeks spearing into the cloth that lined the edges of her face.


    ''Everyday I stay trapped in her with the children. I fear for them outside these walls. And I fear that one day Big Lou and his men will come barging through that door and I''ll be powerless to stop him just like before.''


    ''So you live your whole life in fear? Trapped in her like an animal? Were it not for Hagsby you''d have died of starvation long ago.'' I said coldly but it was the truth. A necessary truth. I chose my words carefully.


    ''And how can you seem so distant? Do you even think of helping this city or just helping yourself?''


    ''I''m a Slayer, Sister Mary. By very definition of what I am. I am and always will be a loner save for my brethren and sisters. The Coven is my family and I will do anything to save them. But outside of that I''m expected to be a monster. A heretic warped by the witch''s sinful magic. For the crime of witchcraft. Is that not why in the eyes of the One Faith we are labeled Sinners?'' I paused and took a deep breath before belting out. ''Have you ever thought of just leaving?''


    She eyed me harshly for trying to change the subject. I had grown tired long ago of explaining myself. Thus I tended to limit my interaction getting to know people. That was Master Holom''s strange shtick. I never got close to others outside the Coven save for a special few. Cause I never knew if I''d ever see them again or if I''d die causing them grief.


    Sister Mary sighed. ''Of course I have. But alone with twelve children? We would never survive. The Faith would turn us away and I could not support them on my own...Where could we possibly go?''


    ''I''m sure orphanages in the Capital would have room for them.''


    ''That would require us to travel there. Two weeks journey through untamed wilds and unsafe roads. We would never survive the trip...'' Sister Mary''s eyes turned dark with disappointment when a really stupid idea came to mind.


    ''¡­..fuck....'' I breathed quietly.


    ''Agarn?'' Her eyebrow cocked. She wiped the tears from her face.


    ''Depending on how things go after I''m done with business here you''re more than welcome to accompany me back to the Capital. I wasn''t planning on going there right away but I can pass through it on the way to Thornwood...''


    ''You mean the Rumbling Thorn?'' She smirked.


    ''That''s the coven''s official name. The actual place is called Thornwood....''


    She stayed quiet for a moment as she mulled the offer. ''Thank you. Agarn. I graciously accept.''


    ''¡­..you''re welcome....'' Truthfully I don''t know what compelled me to pitch such an offer after all it benefited myself little and only harmed further plans to investigate Holom''s abduction but seeing her eyes light up with even a hint of hope told me exactly why it was the right thing to do.


    ''Now I have to go see this fellow- Big Lou or whatever.''


    ''Agarn, please be careful. He''s a criminal. A horrible human being.''


    ''Perfect. I grew up around criminals. This shouldn''t be anything new.'' I took a deep breath and made for the door. ''Mary? If Lady Katharine gets any ideas of leaving make sure she stays here. It''s hard to say who is an ally and who is an enemy to the young miss now. So as far as she should be concerned, everyone save myself and you is an enemy.''


    ''You expect me to restrict a noblewoman? That''s grounds for kidnapping.''


    ''Trust me, Sister. There''s a lot worse going on right now than just that.''


    Begrudgingly she shrugged with a nod. ''I can only do my best.


    ''That''s all I ask.'' I gave her a cocky smile as if it that meant everything would be alright but my heart did not mirror that same lofty feeling.


    Something felt wrong. There was this thickness to the air. As if all the questions in my head that needed to be answered had trapped me in a game that I had no understanding of. I felt all these pieces were scattered about and just how they stitched together was a feat beyond my comprehension. I suppose that was the point of investigating and my next lead would bring me before a criminal boss who I hoped would provide some concrete answers. Assuming of course, he didn''t kill me first.


    They certainly didn''t try to hide their whereabouts. Two thuggish looking characters stood outside the outer door guarding the derelict manor''s front door. From my vantage point just around the corner twenty yards down I could see their toothless grins and gleaming bald heads. Clad in thick clothing they excreted exuberant amounts of sweat creating deltas of dirt and grime around their collars. I could almost imagine the smell of them. Unwashed and a salty smell so strong I could taste in on my tongue. Just the thought made me gag.


    ''Well, Sister Mary got the place right. Now do I sneak in or go through the front door? Act like a thief or come as a friend?'' I contemplated the two obvious choices then cursed my fate. My life as a Slayer left me in a more advantages position when dealing with criminals but as I would soon find out this lead me to a false sense of ability.


    Approaching the guards slowly they were quick to bare down on me shouting for my co-operation. To show my wish to see things through peacefully I unclasped my belt and held the scabbard in front of me. One of the guards was quick to take it away in his dirty fat fingers.


    ''I come looking for Big Lou.'' I told them trying my best to make my voice as unimposing and soft as possible.


    ''Big Lou? What''s a man like you want with Big Lou?'' One of them asked hooking his index finger under my chin, angling my head about as if he was inspecting merchandise.


    I shook his dirty hand off glaring at his brown eyes that had succumbed to a murky gray building in the corners from years of drug abuse. Judging by his attire, rags upon rags laced together with ancient threads the man was clearly not paid in gold. Then again no amount of money could keep even the most loyal thug in this city. Only the unbearable thirst to fuel his addictions. From his shaking he was already a few days past without a hit.


    ''I''m a friend of Clayton Ramon''s. Here on terms of business.''


    ''Clayton Ramon? The Black Plague?'' He blubbered nervously.


    ''The one and only.'' I stared at him. The man backed away and looked at his partner.


    ''Go tell Lou he''s got a guest, Namen.'' He ordered the other who appeared taken aback at the sudden request.


    ''Excuse me? Why do we have to let this guy in?'' The man barked back earning himself a rather vicious backhand from the other.


    ''Don''t fucking question it! Go tell Big Lou!'' Without further argument, his will to do so literally smacked out of him, the man left in a huff soothing his red cheek. Turning back to me the junkie appeared to bow as if in awe of my presence. ''Any friend of the Black Plague is a friend of Big Lou''s. Come let me show you inside.''


    And then there I was. A seemingly random stranger being welcomed into the belly of a criminal boss''s hideout simply over the fact I knew a man by the name of Clayton Ramon. Or as his short-lived enemies would call him, The Black Plague. Sure, it was a play on the man''s skin color but that didn''t hide his hideous nature.


    See Clayton had a bit of a problem. He liked to kill. And not just by the standard methods. No, such things were too brutal and barbaric for him, those being his exact words. In place of a blunt object, a knife or even a sword Clayton''s weapon of choice was disease. Often times ones that were fast acting. Sometimes to really hurt his enemies were they lived he would employ slow reagents. Diseases that took days, weeks even years to fester.


    It was his more precise methods and love of biology that made him so dangerous. He was a smart man with a dangerous mind that fell in love with crime. Now he ran the criminal underworld permeating the Capital''s back alleys. If you wanted to build an organization you needed his permission first. Find yourself on his bad-side and chances are you''re already dead, you just haven''t died yet.


    Slayers knew him personally. Whether through their previous lives or in matters of business. Criminals had a nack for getting places they weren''t supposed to be, finding people that didn''t want to be found and attaining items that should never be obtained. That was why Clayton Ramon was a friend. If ever I needed something he would get it.


    Suddenly I realized that bringing Sister Mary and the children to the Capital wouldn''t be such a bad idea after all. Assuming I found Lord Sosis and he proves incapable of leading me to the Broker than Clayton would most likely have something on the mysterious phantom. A small part of me almost wanted to simply abandon my current action and head straight there.


    ''So what''s he like?'' The thug asked me like a child awaiting a story of some legendary knight. Anticipation gleaming in his murky eyes.


    ''The Black Plague?'' I mulled over the man''s personality in my mind. Finally with certainty I told him. ''He''s kind. Despite obvious occupational hazards there''s this kindness about him. He doesn''t desire his friends to fear him but instead to respect him. Don''t get me wrong. There''s no one worse in all of Synn. Do anything he doesn''t like, so much as speak in a manner he doesn''t find pleasing to his ears and he''ll have you rotting inside out hung from the rafters.''


    ''Sounds like a bad bad man. Is he looking for any muscle? Cause you know I''m pretty strong and I listen to orders.''


    ''I''m not here to recruit. I''m here to talk to Big Lou.''


    ''Oh, alright. In here.'' The thug gripped the door handle and twisted.


    When he lead me into the stone manor I had already built up an expectation of what to find inside. I thought maybe, maybe it would be filled with thugs acting tough, junkies slinking off to their corners to inhale another whiff of pixie luck, a silvery powder that was said to make you forget the concept of reality.


    Yet after the first few door-less rooms, wherein women were fucked for money, some tied to the bed posts against their will only to have the next room over be filled with corpses any and all expectations I had fled in a hurry. My stomach churned with the smell of rotting flesh and unwashed bodies. The stale, salty stench of semen permeating fabric wreaked havoc on my nose and I gagged.


    The thug leading me through a throng of inquisitive junkies inspecting the new arrival seemed nonplussed by the living conditions. Nor did the people I spot sleeping on top of the corpse piles, reveling in death like some mad cultist. And that is where I understood the difference between a criminal and the depraved.


    Men like Clayton would have burned this place to the ground with everyone in it, innocent or not. But a man like Big Lou, well it appeared this was his idea of a criminal organization. Such pith standards, he''d never survive in a city that was otherwise capable of controlling it''s crime rate. He thrived only because the city was dying.


    Coming across a room I noticed a man perched over a lady. Her ass perked up in the air, face pressed into the soiled mattress that lay on the floor. The man thrusted deeper and deeper into her ass, his thick frame causing the mattress to move under his momentum.


    ''Yeah, you like that bitch! You like that!'' He moaned in his disillusion for the woman appeared to have been dead for some time. Or maybe he knew. My mind could not comprehend which was worse.


    Soupy bile washed through my teeth pressing at my clenched lips. Lungs begging for air I forced the vomit back down tearing my eyes away from the disgusting sight. I could feel the burn of stomach acid singe the back of my nostrils. One quick breath later I composed myself and focused on the hulking back of the thug that lead me in.


    ''You''re going to love it here. Big Lou has got the local guard by the balls and anyone that tries to be an upstanding citizen gets thrown into the jail down below.''


    ''You have a jail?'' I asked him trying to move my mind past that disturbing image. ''What do you do with the prisoners?''


    ''Nothing. They rot down there.'' The thug relented on his words. ''Well, that''s not true. Sometimes we sell them off. Good money in slaves.''


    ''Good money....sure...'' I said looking into another passing room.


    In it naked menials worked on drugs tentures with thick cast iron chokers locked around their necks. Each held that same hollow look in their eyes, almost every eye milky white from intense drug usage. That''s how they kept them in line. Keep them dependent. Compliant. A smart method if not unseemly.


    ''We''re almost there. I think Big Lou is going to like you.'' The thug said with a cheery smile.


    ''Really?'' I said out of the corner of my mouth the manufacturing room disappearing behind us. ''You think so.''


    I felt a strange sense of aggression to his words thus causing my hand to settle on the sword that was no longer there. I groaned in my stupidity allowing myself to be disarmed so easily in hostile territory.


    ''I really think so! He loves new business. And if you''re here for The Black Plague that can only be good news. Ah, here!'' Without another word his dirt black fingers curled around a rusted iron handle re-slotted lazily into the body of a thick dark oak door. Two bent nails curved out desperately holding the handle in where it had been hastily repaired.


    ''Whenever you''re ready.'' I told the man who grinned then opened the squeaking door and immediately I saw him.


    Broad back towards me with a naturally bald head that poured sweat trailing down his thick neck and soaking the collar of his loose brown shirt. He held something in his hands, small, from the way his shoulders spread. With a quiet hum he turned towards the opened door and I noticed the red leather bound booklet he held. Quickly he slammed it''s browning pages shut, removed the half-oval glasses that hung at the tip of his nose and smiled pulling at the nasty scar tearing across his right cheek.


    ''Gum? Who is this?'' He spoke sweetly, betraying the brutish appearance his thick body birthed upon him. I could see why they called him Big Lou. His small kind eyes dropped down to a table separating us and I could tell whatever he looked at forced him to recall something. Whatever it was was hidden by a dozen stacks of books.


    ''Oh, right,'' Big Lou sighed. ''You''re the man sent by the Black Plague.'' He sized me up, eyes turning sharp and observant. ''I''ve never dealt in business with the man personally but I''ve heard stories. And you don''t resemble any of his ¡°Plague Bearers¡± whom I''ve heard so much about.''


    ''Plague Bearers are known to strike long after their presence is absent. Diseases don''t operate in the short-term. At least if you want to wipe out rival operations.'' I told him allowing myself in.


    ''And a rival operation we are not. Please, sit.'' He motioned for the thug, Gum, to bring up a chair that I cautiously accepted. ''Worry not,-''


    ''Agarn.'' I told him.


    ''Agarn. You''re in good company here. As I have said we are not a rival operation and willingly seek a partnership with the Black Plague.''


    ''You assume I''m here for a partnership?''


    ''What other reason might a man such as yourself have to come to this forsaken city?'' The man asked me with intrigue whilst slipping his red booklet into the back pocket of his trousers.


    ''I''m looking for someone.''


    ''Aren''t we all?'' Lou laughed taking a seat himself. ''Who? Family? Friend? Miss perfect?''


    ''Nobody is perfect Big Lou. We''re all just monsters masquerading as people.''


    ''What a funny anecdote. Whoever this person must be, surely they are of great importance to you. And by extension The Black Plague?''


    ''More-so to myself.''


    ''And I''m to help you find this person?'' Big Lou shrugged.


    ''I can help set up a partnership between you and Clayton Ramon.''


    ''In exchange for helping you find whoever it is you''re looking for I presume?''


    I shifted uncomfortably feeling Gum stand right behind me. His eyes burning a hole in my neck. The air was growing thick with tension and I just couldn''t peg why.


    ''Yes.'' I said. ''If you want to deal with him I can help set a meeting up.''


    Big Lou chewed his cheek mulling over the offer. Truthfully, I knew what kind of scum he was but I needed Lord Sosis who might hold a clue to finding this Broker Lord Collifer mentioned. And for that reason I wasn''t worried about trying to end this slime''s life. But my own inexperience lead me into a dangerous position.


    ''Gum, if you''d be so kind?'' Big Lou''s eyes flicked down at me and before I could react thick arms wrapped around my neck pulling tight as every muscle fought for a breath of air to fuel my kicking legs.


    ''Shhh. Shhh. Don''t struggle. Otherwise I''ll order him to snap your neck like a twig. He might not be the brightest of my....employees...but he''s strong.''


    I could feel the muscles tense in Gum''s arms pulling me down in my seat. His weight pushed into my shoulders keeping me pinned leaving my legs free to wag about if I so chose but elected it wiser to save my strength and breath.


    ''I can tell.'' I hissed through clenched teeth, neck muscles bulging to relieve the pressure.


    ''Gum. Let the man breath.'' Big Lou ordered his thug who did as asked maintaining a firm enough lock to abolish any thoughts of escape. The sudden rush of blood fleeing my straining face felt cool until I noticed Gum''s hot wet breath washed over me.


    ''Could you not breath on me?'' I asked, Big Lou laughed to which I shot him an apologetic look. ''It''s unnerving.''


    ''So calm despite the fact your life hangs on my whim.''


    ''Let''s just say I''m used to living in peril.'' And I''ve always had Master Holom to save my skin. But now I had handed myself over on a silver platter. I needed to play this smart.


    ''And you''re very candid how you speak, even when faced with your own inevitable demise. But then again, aren''t all Slayers like that I suppose?'' My eyes opened wide. The bastard knew.


    That''s when from behind his wall of books his left hand lifted my black scabbard complete with it''s stowed blade. His warm eyes scanned the length of it before his right drew the sword and twirled it overhead blue runes burning brightly in it''s fuller.


    ''A beautiful sword....Capable of slaying monsters and men equally. Never before have I see such a weapon. What do they call it ¨C Witch''s Steel, right? Absolutely gorgeous.''


    There was indeed a marvel to my sword that outclassed all others. Surely it was not as unique as the sabers smithed in the shady oasis kingdom of El Elysi nor was it as brutish as the two-handed weapons made by the Vos in their mountain home far to the West. Taking homage to the basic longsword that has permeated knight culture since it''s inception long before Synn''s formation after the Coalition of Crowns, a Slayer''s blade was simple. Defined only by it''s black leather grip and the witchcraft that caused it''s inlet runes to glow a bright blue my sword was a rather simple thing.


    ''It is said that only the smiths of a Coven can forge such an exquisite blade. It is also said that those Slayers who have yet to fully complete their initiation must wield Witch''s Steel with a black grip made from the skin of Soul Geists. Lest they touch the black magic imbued within and find their bodies corrupted. Or so the stories go.'' Big Lou smiled contemplating touching the blade. For a moment I wished he would if only to discover that stories were in fact just stories.


    ''Go ahead, touch the blade,'' I coaxed him on aware I wasn''t playing it smart.


    ''I think I''ll pass.'' The crime lord grinned defiantly.


    Stowing the sword in it''s scabbard Big Lou stood up once more portraying his name perfectly. Thick bulging muscles kissed the sleeves of his shirt. Tightly cutting into his tanned flesh. A broad, armor like chest threatened to split the poor fabric at his v-neck. And though the man was as big as a house as he moved towards me with startling grace.


    ''See, I know who you''re looking for. Four knights came through earlier with the same purpose. Before they could stir the hornet''s nest my whores brought them here. And now they''re receiving the extended tour of my prison down below,'' Lou rounded up to me with a big smile. ''Because I''m not one to risk the hero foiling my plans, you''ll be joining them rather soon.''


    ''No, wait! I can-'' All I remember is the absolute brutal feeling of being thrashed about as something hard smashed into the back of my skull. Beyond that I recalled nothing save for the taste of iron filling my mouth. Fuck.