Tor panted and it seemed that every muscle in his body ached, mainly from physical exertion but also from what he was forcing his men to endure. “Hold!” bellowed Davos again and again as it seemed that every time they had managed to clear the square of the abominations more had emerged from the cracks to fill their place. “Blast, how many of these freaks can there be?” asked Tor, already knowing that the answer was as many as citizens were being slain and resurrected elsewhere. Already he had witnessed too many of his men die tonight, each one being like a part of him torn away by these foul enemies. Moments ago he had seen a young lad Cedric Siloti take a direct blast from a necromancer and melt into a pile of fleshy gloop on the street. Only three days ago Tor had shared drinks with him and they’d told stories of their childhoods – and now he was nothing more than foul gloop on the ground. This hadn’t been the plan, this was too much too soon, and they were now paying for their lack of preparation with their lives. His men were used to knowing his plan, used to having orders to follow to the letter. A mistake Tor would not repeat. He dreaded how things might be going for his men elsewhere in the city. As again the last of their enemies fell it seemed for a moment that they would have time to regain their positions and composure. As the fight had worn on the city guard had sprung into action, men emerging and joining with Tor as they held the inner city gate. There was a cheer from the walls that surrounded the inner city as the archers that had been positioned there saw the last necromancer fall. “Davos” shouted Tor, his tone and mood showing that he was now practically fuming with anger. “Take the men and the rest of these city guardsmen. You’ll do as Mahakam has ordered and go to the Cultivator's Plateau, once there make sure it’s safe and secure”. Tor hesitated for a moment before he added “But your orders still stand, you are not to deviate from the plan in the slightest – don’t do anything I wouldn’t. I‘m going to the slums, if I can help the day or night master at all then I don’t want to miss the opportunity. Now go – oh and Davos, I don’t want to see anyone else dead tonight, the lives of our men are paramount”. With that Tor turned and sprinted away from them, heading towards the slums as quickly as his feet would carry him. ------------------------- It pained Tor to lose his men, but the thought of losing their contract pained him even more. They were too invested to pull out now, and he’d be damned if he was missing out on the ridiculous amount of coin that was offered just because the city had fallen under attack at this early stage. He would make sure tomorrow that the office of the Magnificent one knew how many men he had lost down to the cities unpreparedness, and that he would be expecting some form of redress for each man. As he moved through the city it became clearer to him that the necromancers were trying to cause as much damage as possible, but now the city was starting to fight back. People rushed to and fro trying to combat the fires and prevent them from spreading any further, whilst some had armed themselves and were now guarding certain streets against any of the undead abominations that were roaming the city. As he got deeper into the slums it became clear that the poorest area was suffering quite heavily, the older rackety wooden buildings going up like kindling and many abominations roaming about the place unchecked. As he approached a junction in the street ahead he spotted a necromancer strolling casually as he launched flames from his fingertips and set fire to yet another row of buildings. At that moment a trio of figures leapt from one of the buildings, Tor only spotting them at the last moment as they emerged from the shadows and simultaneously attacked the man with lightning quick speed. One man plunged a long knife down into his neck, the second driving a pair of savage spiked knuckles into his gut as the third assassin lopped his arm clean off with a great swing of his curved sword. The Necromancer screeched and cackled as blood spurted from him in fountains before he spoke a single word of magic, his blood suddenly beginning to burn like a corrosive acid – some dark curse that he had evoked as he died. The three men cried out and began to convulse as the foul substance ate through their clothes and flesh, the necromancer himself still cackling as every drop of blood in his body turned to acid and he began himself to melt away. At the last moment he pulled the nearest assassin into an embrace, the gruesome sight and chorus of agonized screams making even Tor feel sick to his stomach as both men completely bubbled away. After what seemed like only seconds after the assault had begun all four men were dead, though Tor couldn’t waste time reflecting how damned unfortunate their fate had been. He knew that he was now only a few streets away from the Blooming Orchid, every source he’d found in the city pointing at that as the best place for someone to contact the rouges guild – and a good as place to any to start. He also knew that quite a large number of his men would have been frequenting the many establishments around the same area, so he was hoping he’d run into a few good men he could use at the same time. Soon he was there and began his search, a few corpses here and there, but relatively few compared to where he had come from. Tor heard screams from a building ahead and so he slowed slightly and prepared himself for more fighting. Suddenly there was a smashing sound and a body tumbled from the top floor of one of the three story buildings that lined the street, the now definitely dead man crunching into the paving stones right beside where Tor had been standing. Looking up Tor saw a face glance down at him before disappearing back into the building. A few moments later after a flurry of activity a group of seven of his men emerged from the building where they had been fighting, some of them wearing very little as they were obviously caught unaware whilst in one of the brothels, one of them wearing nothing other than what appeared to be silken underwear. Tor shot the man a questioning glance before he disregarded it and greeted them, filling them in on the situation as quickly as he could. “We are with you sir” said the first man followed by nods from the others as already Tor was again making his way towards the Orchid. “Over there” said one of his men pointing down one of the numerous large alley ways that littered this area. Tor could see a small group stood at towards one end and after a moment he soon realised that this was exactly the kind of group he was looking for. He watched as a trio of men began to drag away one of the necromancers, the dark magic user somehow subdued and bound, leaving only three others stood in the alley as they disappeared into a secret doorway. Two other men looked like they were also assassins, their appearance similar to the men he had seen before – now knowing for certain these were rouges guild men. However it was the third figure that interested him the most by far. Even from this distance he could see fierce red hair which stood out above any flame he had witnessed and drew his eye to the woman who stood gesturing and giving commands – and his heart even seemed to skip a beat as he couldn’t help but stare and hop that this was the Nightmaster, the woman whose name he knew simply as Red. His eye was quickly drawn to the savage and exotic looking blade she was carrying as well as her more… subtle womanly features, not that he could enjoy them for long. Soon the temporary lull was over and the dead were again thick in the streets, a huge number seeming to pour into the alleyway from the opposite side to Tor. It quickly became clear that this was no ordinary coincidence as four necromancers soon joined the attack – urging the undead on as they perhaps wanted to recover their fallen kinsmen, at least that’s what he guessed judging by the ferocity at which they were exerting themselves. In just the first few moments of the brawl Tor was amazed by what he saw, the pair of assassins flowing like serpents as they struck at the multiple abominations that flooded in, but mainly at the woman who almost looked more like a deadly dancer as she whirled around and easily dealt death all-around of her. His men needed no instruction as they followed him forwards, joining the fight and together making short work of the reanimated dead as Tor fired arrow after arrow, each one felling one of the dead-men that surrounded the small group. One of the two of her assassins caught a blast from the nearest necromancer, his flesh seeming to crack and turn into white ash slowly as he collapsed to the ground before the second assassin lunged forwards and drove his dagger into the man’s heart. Three of the necromancers lunged forwards simultaneously attacking the woman, the fourth and final necromancer beginning to sing and chant as he started some incantation with his eyes fixed on her as they tried to bring her down. The woman dodged and ducked as she flawlessly evaded or deflected each blow aimed at her whilst at the same time whirling her double sided blade around her, felling two of her attackers in the flash of an eye as the third seemed to be protected by his wards. Tor wasted little time as he leapt forwards seeing the furthest necromancer completing his incantation and slowly beginning to pulsate with a strange dark energy that he soon recognised from his experience – the insane man was opening a channel between himself and one of the many hellish realms that existed in order to snare some demon and allow it to possess his body – the results of which would be near catastrophic. Tor pulled back another arrow, realising that it was his last and he would not get another shot at this, things seemed to slow for a moment as he focused on waiting for a clear shot, his heart pounding rhythmically in his ears. Losing the shaft he held his breath as it whipped right past the Nightmaster’s face before it hurtled into the left eye of the necromancer just as he began to tremble and lose control of his body, his other eye turning a deep blood red a second before it rolled up into his skull and he fell backwards, an anticlimactic ‘poof’ sounding as the magical energy was dispelled from his body and passed harmlessly into the air. At that moment the woman decapitated the final necromancer with a swing of her exotic blade before she turned and came face to face with Tor and his men as the last few undead were easily finished. A slight smirk on his face Tor nodded his head towards her in greeting as he said “The Nightmaster I’d wager?” before he gestured to himself and his men “Company of the Bloody hand at your service”. Several of his men (including the man in nothing but the silken briefs) bowed enthusiastically as they were introduced. “Tor Balith” he said introducing himself “but I’m sure you know that already. It would seem that it takes an undead infestation to flush you out, you’re quite the elusive woman” he added. He couldn’t help but stare slightly, the combination of her impressive display of martial prowess combined with the fact he had finally found one of the woman he had been searching for practically since he’d arrive in the city serving to blind-side him a little as the adrenaline rush started to subside. He couldn’t help but think that Davos had been right when he’d joked about her appearance what must be not even an hour ago, practically finding himself not being able to take his eyes away from her as he spoke. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Davos was thick with sweat and already covered in blood and grime from head to toe. His heavy half-plate armour was nicked and dented all over and he was fairly certain he had received a broken rib or two. He hated fighting magic users with a passion, the cowardly nature of magic combined with the damn arrogance of every mage he’d ever met having cemented his opinion long ago. “Is this it?” he grunted between pants as they finally arrived at the large gatehouse that lead into the Cultivator’s Plateau. The city guardsman that had been leading them, Veldron or whatever he’d said his name was nodded, his attention now focused on the gate before them. Where there had once been a set of heavy wooden doors reinforced with numerous metallic bands there was now a gaping hole that was still smouldering with a thick noxious smell hanging thick in the air. “This cannot be!!” exclaimed Veldron, his sentiment being mirrored by the many other guardsmen that had now joined them. “How many of them could be inside?” he gasped in an exacerbated manner, his voice thick with distress. “Pull yourself together man…” grunted Davos as he pushed past him roughly and moved through the remnants of the gate, glancing at the twisted and blackened bodies that had obviously once been the guards stationed here. Veldron commanded half of his men to stay and hold the gate, stopping anything else from getting in before he followed Davos with a deep scowl on his face. As the muscular mercenary led the group of men onto the Cultivators Plateau he marvelled at the vast fields that soon stretched out before him, chuckling a little to himself at the thought of seeing them without the express consent of the priesthood that watched so fiercely over this place. Veldron pulled ahead of the group once more, leading them towards the towering Great Temple that dominated the flat landscape. As they moved it became obvious that there were many of the shambling abominations wandering through the fields, several of them mindlessly attacking the group of experienced warriors only to be cut down in moments. “Veldron, take your men and sweep the fields” barked Davos “take half of my men with you and focus on finding out if there are any of those necromancer bastards out there. Kill any you find and make sure you get every damn one of those deadmen”. Veldron turned and glared at him and for a moment Davos thought he would question his authority, each man holding the other’s gaze with a fierce glare. After a few tense seconds the city guardsman turned and stalked towards the fields barking orders to those that followed him. A small grin formed on the huge man’s face as he turned to the rest of his men and said “Shall we see if we can stop these Necromancer fucks from crashing that chubby little man’s party tonight?” before the group turned and began to make their way as quickly as possible towards the Great Temple, weapons and armour clinking as they did.