Champions Vol. 01

As soon as his dagger wielding opponent attempted a thrust at his left hip, he quickly stepped to out of the way and countered with a series of lightning strikes, working up the man's over-extended arm in an 'S'. First he sliced upward and outward, severing the arteries and tendons in the wrist. Next he came back down and in, striking the nerve cluster in the inside of the elbow. Then he completed the 'S' by slicing back up and out, cocking his wrist to catch the brachial artery and nerves near the armpit, finishing with his arm out past the attacker's right shoulder and the point of his knife inward, lined up just below the man's occipital lobe. Looking into his enemy's horrified eyes; David mercilessly drove his point home, burying his knife in the man's brainstem.

Leaving his knife buried, he moved away from the last attacker and drew his second M9 from the thigh holster on his left side. At this range point shooting was perfect, so he merely pointed the index finger that ran along the trigger guard at the man's sternum, then lowered his finger to the trigger and fired off four rounds. As the man dropped to his knees, pouring his lifeblood onto the street from a cluster of bullet wounds in his chest, David turned 180 degrees to reacquire the knife thrower from earlier. Failing to see movement from that end of the alley, he turned back to see Sapphire, squared off against a man with a stout wooden club. Closer to him, the man with the severed arm had fallen to his knees in the middle of the alley, and was in silent shock as his life's blood poured from the stump of his right arm. David leveled his pistol at the injured man's head and fired one round into his skull. Severed arm or not, in the soldier's mind the man was a threat until he stopped breathing. Then he carefully aimed down the alleyway. He was slightly less accurate shooting with his left hand, but at this distance he could still put his next round where he wanted it to go. Firing a single round, he destroyed the kneecap of the club wielding assailant.

Sapphire was no knife fighter. She had learned how to throw knives as a hobby, just something that was fun and entertaining when she was younger. Now she was fighting for her life with a man that seemed to know what he was doing with that club, and she was quickly exhausting herself dodging his strikes. She lacked the knowledge and skill to use her shorter weapons and reach effectively in the fight, and her opponent refused to give her enough room to throw one at him. She had already tried to use her magic to push him away, but it had failed. These attackers were protected as well. Sapphire had heard David fire his weapon a few times, so she knew he was still fighting, and just hoped he could finish and help her out soon. This thought had barely passed through her mind when she heard his weapon fire again, and the assailant before her dropped to the ground, clutching his knee and screaming in agony.

"Keep an eye on him," she heard David say to her, and she looked over to see him already moving back down the alleyway that the first attack had come from. Between them lay the circle of devastation he had left behind.

David's arm was killing him, but the adrenaline and his anger helped to block out the pain. Moving down the alley with his pistol leading he came to the edge of the building that the knife thrower had ducked behind, and he swept the corner. The man was nowhere to be seen. Scanning the area, he saw no additional places that attackers could easily approach from. Recalling the pattern of the previous attack, he also checked the adjacent rooftops for movement, but found them empty. Returning to Sapphire, he retrieved his fallen M9 and knife along the way. Moving up to stand next to his love, he checked to see if she had been injured.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "But you aren't," she said with concern, looking at the knife sticking out of his arm.

He ripped the knife from his arm, gasping at the pain, and poured his magic into healing the wound. In less time than it would take to explain it, the wound was closed and the damage repaired. Moving and flexing his arm, he smiled at her. "See, good as new."

His expression hardening, he turned his gaze to the only attacker still breathing, and gave Sapphire instructions without even looking at her. "Check on Laurena, and get her moving to the side of the alley. I'll be with you in a moment." He wasn't sure how long they had, but it was time to get some answers. As she walked toward the acolyte David called out to her grimly. "And Sapphire, no matter what you hear, don't look this way..."

***

Claudius was making his way along the rooftops towards the fighting. He recognized the sound of David's magic weapons. Given the number of the loud noises he heard, he assumed the fight was going badly for his people. As he raced along the tops of the buildings, jumping from roof peak to roof peak, he realized he might not make it there in time. What would happen if he arrived late, and he had to face down the trio alone? This thought caused him to slow his rush a few buildings away from the conflict. Pausing to listen, he no longer heard the sounds of David's power, or the clash of weapons. The only thing he heard was a single voice crying out in pain.

Crouching low, the Shadowmaster crept toward the noise. He was surprised when it peaked to a crescendo, a piercing howl of agony flying through the night. He recognized the voice as one of his men, and realized that it was a very bad sign. Pulling his bow from across his shoulders, he prepped an arrow and crept to the edge of the building. Looking down into the alley, he saw the man, David, crouched next to one of his men. It was the voice he recognized, and after taking in all of the bodies scattered about the alley, he realized it might be the only man still alive.

Only somewhat listening, he scanned the surrounding area to try and find the two women. If they were both dead then he could kill the man and complete his mission. He noticed the pair crouched further along the alley - in a doorway - at the same time he realized what his man was talking about. He was telling David everything! Turning back he drew his bow and sighted in his target. He couldn't allow their secrets out.

***

The wounded assailant had been belligerent when David asked his first question. So the soldier drew his knife and buried it into the man's uninjured knee. Once he finished howling in agony, David ripped the knife back out, and placed the tip against the man's crotch.

"Listen up asshole. Every time you lie to me, or refuse to answer a question, I will destroy something you value. Both of your knees can be healed, but I doubt anyone can re-grow your balls. So I'm going to ask you again, how many of you are there?" David asked him.

"Scores," the man gasped in pain and fear, "nearly a hundred. I don't know exactly how many, but I know it is at least that much."

"How many more are after us tonight?"

"None. We were the back-up teams. We were only supposed to join in if you avoided the trap or managed to get through it."

David took a moment to think about this information. It was what he most needed to know, but if it was true it meant he could take his time and get to the bottom of this whole fucking mess. Deciding on his next line of questioning, he asked, "Why are you after us?"

"We were ordered to attack you. The boss wanted the three of you dead."

"Why?"

"I don't know. The boss didn't say, and none of us are dumb enough to ask."

"Who's the boss?" David continued, annoyed.

"Shadowmaster Whisper. He's in charge of protection and enforcement for..." the man trailed off.

Rolling his eyes, David grabbed the man's wrist and pulled his hand away from his torn knee, laying it out on the hard packed dirt. Then he stabbed his knife through the man's hand and into the dirt, pinning him to the ground. After the next round of screams stopped, he addressed his captive, "You were saying?"

"He's in charge of protection and enforcement for the Night Lord!" the man screamed.

"And who is the Night Lord?"

"I can't talk about it. He'll kill me!" the man cried.

Pulling a throwing knife from his vest, David waved it slowly in front of the man. "What the fuck do you think I'm going to do to you if you don't answer?"

David never learned what the man thought, or anything else from him. Kneeling on the ground was hurting his knee, so he shifted his weight to the side to relieve some of the pressure. As he did so an arrow shot past him in the darkness, grazing his cheek and burying itself in the man's heart. Dodging to the side, David tucked into a roll that ended in a crouch, pistol drawn. Searching the moons-lit darkness for the archer, he heard a scuffling noise from one of the rooftops. Deciding that reconnaissance by fire was an acceptable option, he shot the rest of his clip into the eaves of the building near where he heard the noise. As soon as the last bullet was fired he ejected the clip, and performed a tactical reload.

Moving into slightly better cover, he waited for retaliatory fire, but none came. After nearly a minute of waiting, he figured that whoever had shot that arrow was gone or hiding. Either way he had more important shit to do. Retrieving his empty pistol clip from the ground, and his knife from the now dead attacker's hand, he linked up with the two women and led them back to the temple.

*** Chapter 31: Departure ***

252110MAR13 DW

Temple of Eros, Exitibus, Erosius

The trio made it back to the temple unimpeded. During the attacks all David wanted to do was stash the women safely in the temple, then go hunting. He hated people who tried to kill him, and he REALLY hated anyone who would dare to hurt the woman he loved. But, as he led them back, he realized that staying in Exitibus was the wrong call. He was well trained, and could easily handle himself in most situations; but a large part of his effectiveness was based on having a squad of well trained people with him. Operating alone, in a foreign city, was less than ideal. Trying to do it while some group of assholes was hunting him, or them all, was just fucking stupid. He needed to get them all out of the city, tonight. They had a small window before whoever was in charge came after them again, and he needed to use it to get them all away. The moment the back door of the temple was closed and barred behind them, he explained his plan.

"But what about Phoebe and Varus?" Laurena asked immediately. "This is their city, and keeping the peace is their job. Shouldn't we stay and help them?"

Looking to Laurena he noticed she had been crying, and the fear in her eyes was obvious. Realizing that she had always found safety and comfort in her faith, it made sense that she would want to stay at the temple. The problem was that the temple would be the first place this group would look for them. He may have thinned their ranks by at least ten to twelve earlier, but that still left about ninety of them. There was no way he could stop half that many from killing them all if they were determined to assault the temple.

"We can't stay," he explained gently. "We have to assume that these are the same people that killed the old priest. Our very presence here puts Phoebe at risk. We need to leave, now. She should too. Gather your things quickly, Sapphire you too. Once you get to your rooms lock the doors, and don't open them until I come get you. I'll bar the other doors and check the temple. Then I'll grab my shit, come get you, get Phoebe, and take her to stay with Varus on the way out of town. We can brief her on the way, and answer any questions she and Varus have when we get there. But we will be out of this town in the next two hours. That's non-negotiable."

Laurena hated the plan, but she also trusted David. He had saved her life once in the mountains, and twice tonight. Whatever his faults - and she began to think Astinus was wrong about the Champion in many ways - he had proven that protecting others was his goal. Even if that meant being more lethal than the men who attacked them. She nodded her acquiescence and followed them to her room.

Dropping off Laurena first, he made sure he heard her lock the door before stashing Sapphire in her room as well. Then he went to his own room, grabbed, loaded, and slung his M4, filled the six M4 magazine pouches on his vest, swapped his depleted M9 clips for full ones, and then proceeded to clear the temple.

It took him nearly four minutes to go through the large and unfamiliar building and secure the entrances. He couldn't do shit about the stained glass windows, but he figured the noise of the windows breaking would give him at least thirty seconds notice. Moving back to his room, he gathered the few items that had drifted from his rucksack during the day. Swapping his M4 for the Mk 48, double checking the tie-downs securing the two rifles he wasn't using, and cinching the straps tight took a few extra seconds, but he wanted to be damn sure his shit was squared away.

While he did this, everything that had happened in the last hour finally hit him. His adrenaline crashed, his hands started shaking, and he began to think about all the men he had killed. He also thought about the man he had tortured. It had been the right decision at the time. There were lives at stake. They were outnumbered, had barely survived two attempts on their lives, and he had no idea how many others were coming for them. He didn't have time for twenty questions. He needed information that would be the difference between survival, and death; for him and the two women.

He had plenty of reasons that justified what he did. The problem was that was always the case. The innocent civilians that died when his Afghan trainees didn't listen to him: the major had ordered him to let them fail if they refused to listen to him. Shooting fleeing Afghans: they had attacked first, his team had wounded members, and it was pretty much guaranteed those assholes would try to ambush his team later. Executing five men in the mountains: they were about to rape, and probably kill, an innocent woman. Killing three guys in Wolfsvale: it was self-defense. The four he killed in the first attack tonight: he had to defend himself and protect the women. Lobbing a hand grenade at the archers: he either did it or watched Laurena die. The four he killed in the alley: same thing. The man he shot and then tortured for information: it was either that or gamble on surviving the next attack. Each time he made the right decision, and each time he hesitated less. He was losing his soul a piece at a time, and he was starting to realize that the man he used to be would be horrified at the man he had become.

Staring at his shaking hands, he did the same thing he always did when this happened. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one.

***

Claudius had to run. He knew he had no other options, because his assignment had failed. The Night Lord didn't accept failure - he punished it - and the soon-to-be-former Shadowmaster Whisper had no intention of joining his predecessors in the afterlife yet. If only that fool hadn't moved, he thought. He was no master with a bow, but the shot had been a fairly simple one. Then David had shifted to the side at the last second. Cursing his luck, Claudius snuck through the secret entrance to his home. He had to gather the essentials and flee the city before the Shadow Lord, or worse the Night Lord, came for him.

Rushing to his bedroom, he flung open his wardrobe and pulled up the loose board in the bottom, accessing his secret cache of valuables. There wasn't much, but he had enough stashed away to make good his escape and start a new life elsewhere. Extracting the coin purse and grabbing a pre-packed bag from the corner of the wardrobe, he turned to leave the room and stopped short. He wasn't alone. Standing in the doorway of his room was the Night Lord.

"You appear to be in a hurry Shadowmaster," the deep, raspy voice emanated from beneath the hood of the long cloak and mask he wore.

"I...I was on my way to report t-...to the Shadow Lord," Claudius stuttered.

"Indeed," the Night Lord replied. "What happened tonight?"

"My Lord?" Claudius inquired, terrified.

"You were given an assignment, one that was well within your abilities. What happened?"

"My Lord, we took every precaution. My men were ready for the sorceress, and the priestess was no threat at all...but the man was more powerful than we were told. He was more powerful than I could even imagine. He slaughtered my men. I even took two extra teams, just in case, and they were barely able to wound him," the Shadowmaster pled his case.

"I see."

"Please my Lord, let me try again. I can get more men; we can attack him in the temple...urk" his voice trailed off as a crushing telekinetic grip closed around his throat.

"You are an incompetent fool. If you were unable to stop the man with the element of surprise and sixteen of your best, what makes you think you can do any better now that they know you are coming?" the Night Lord inquired. "Further, I commanded that no action be taken near the temple. That order was not up for debate, or negotiation. You have failed. More, you have compounded that failure by lying to me. You are a fool, and I should turn you into another object lesson for the others..."

Claudius was barely conscious now - only a small bit of air was passing into his lungs - but he heard the threat and knew his fate had been sealed.

"...but I do not have the time, and you are not worth the effort," the Night Lord finished, using his magic to twist his failure of a lackey's head until it snapped.

***

David finished his cigarette and shouldered his rucksack. For some reason it seemed a lot lighter than it should, but he had already checked and knew that everything was packed. He'd puzzle over it later. His hands had stopped shaking, but his mind was still troubled. He knew he was becoming less humane, if not less human, but there was little he could do about it right now. The man he used to be was moral, ethical, and conscientious; and he was also naïve. That man would have tried to do what he thought was the right thing, and he would have died multiple times by now because of it.

Drawing his pistol again, he swept the hallway and moved to Sapphire's room. Knocking he whispered, "It's me. Time to go."

She opened the door, her saddle bags slung over one shoulder and one of his knives in her right hand. Nodding she followed him to Laurena's room. Knocking, he whispered the same message. Then he waited. And he waited some more. He knocked again, and then tried the knob. The door opened, and he moved in, sweeping for danger. The room was empty.

"Fuck!" he cursed quietly.

Moving back out into the hallway, he stormed to Priestess Phoebe's room and didn't even bother knocking. Throwing the unlocked door open he saw Laurena and the priestess sitting on her bed. Phoebe was wearing a thin dressing gown, and was holding Laurena as she cried. They both looked to David as the door slammed open. Phoebe face held shock and anger at the interruption, but Laurena's face was tear-streaked and filled with fear. Once she realized it was David, and not more attackers she calmed somewhat. David suddenly felt like an asshole. Of course Laurena was frightened, and sitting alone in that room was too much for her. He should have had Sapphire wait with her.

"What are you doing here?" Phoebe demanded.

"It's time to leave," he said to Laurena gently. "Are you packed and ready?"

Realizing that he was not mad at her, Laurena nodded and motioned towards her bags sitting haphazardly next to the door. David scanned them, and they seemed to be everything. Looking back to the priestess he told her what she needed to know.